Evening Star Newspaper, September 21, 1921, Page 22

= Up-to-Date The story opens at a race track nigety miles from San Francisco, where bookmakers. are one ‘of them mobile (Skarvan's to San Franciwo, where be ls to o tain $100.000 trom Martin K. Tyde: e ia e e ‘toer of Bookle then returniug to the house about hour later and demanding It. Arri ing In San Francisco he goes to his comfortless room at the Tooler House and examines abandoned pigeon cote, where he plans to hide the $100,- 000." Tells Tooler he will be in town only about en hour, returning to the track by train. He goes to the Tyde. man home and plans to make rald of the library while Tydeman is at his six-thirty dinner. (Continued from Yesterday’s Star.) The edge of the chisel slipped in be- tween the sill and the window-sash, and with the leverage the window was raised an inch or two. His ques- tion was answered. It had not been locked at the top. ‘And now his fingers came into play again—under the window-sash. There was not a sound. The window went up easily and silently; and with a lithe, agile spring Dave Henderson swung _himself up over . the sill, dropped with a soft pad to the floor, and stood motionless, shrouded in one of the portieres. The room was empty. The door leading from the library, he could see as he peered out, was closed. From the other side of the door, muffied, there came a laugh, the murmur of voices, indeterminate _little sounds. The set, straight lips relaxed a little. The way was quite clear. The chances ir his favor were mounting steadily. The family was undoubtedly at dinner. He made no sound as he stepped quickly now across the room. The rich, heavy pile of the velvet rug be- heath his feet deadened his footfalls. And now he reached the massive flat- topped desk that stood almost in the eenter of the room. It was the most likely place, the natural place, for Tdyeman to leave the money. If it Was not here—again there came that d¢bonair shrug—well, then, he would ok further—upstairs in Tydeman's exiroom, if necessary—or anywhere Hfe. it necessary. One thing only was Ftain, and that was that, having rted on the job, he would get the ney, or they would get him—if he ldn't fight his way out. It was ite natural! Of course, he would of that! What else would he do? He #d always done that! He had been ught up to it, hadn’t he? Win or se—he had always played win or Jose. Cold feet and bet hedging was jker stuff—and that was in Bookie karvan's liné, too, not his! ! Keen, alert, his ears were sentinels gainst the slightest external sound, e was gnawing now in a sort of &rim impatience at his low lip, as he ulled open drawer after drawer. trange how his d worked! The slickest crook in the U. S. A., they had said he would make. Well, perhaps he would, but, even so, it neither al- lured nor interested him. This was Ris first job—and his last. There was enough in this to see him through for the rest of his life. It wouldn't have been worth the risk otherwise, and Re wouldn't have tackled it. Once @ast and he could pretend to amass money little by little until no one would be surprised that he was worth & hundred thousand dollars. That was the trouble with the bunch he knew! Some of them had brains, but they worked _their small stuff—and they had to come again—to keep the living expenses going—and sooner or later they came once_too often—and then it was the jug for theirs! He bent down suddenly to a lower drawer that was locked—the only one that he had found locked—and pried it open with the cold chisel. “Sure!” said Dave Henderson im- perturbably under his breath. T guess this looks like it—what? And all done up in a nice little package, too! Even more thoughtful of ‘em than I had hoped!” He took out a parcel from the drawer. It was_securely tied with stout cord, and heavily sealed with great ‘blobs of red wax that bore a bank’s impression. There could indeed be but little doubt_ concerning the contents; but Dave Henderson, never- theless, made a slight opening in one end of the wrapping paper—and dis- closed to view crisp piles of brand- new yellowbacks. He nodded pleas- antly to himself, as he consigned the package to the little black handbag. It was what he had come for—and got—one hundred' thousand dollars. He closed the drawer, and knelt for an instant to examine it. Closed, it did not show enough of the chisel's work to attract attention; open, it at once became very apparent that the drawer had been forced. He smiled in satisfaction. That was exactly little later, he drove up in Skarvan's car to the ront door and requested the money, t was only then that it was likely to e missed for the first time, and cer- tainly under such circumstances the last man on earth against whom any suspicion could arise would be him- self. He had told himself that before. Well, why not repeat it? It was true, wasn't it? He retreated to the window, low- ered himself to the ground, and re- gained the street. The thing was done. He was in possession of one hundred thousand dollars. There had not been-the slightest difficulty or obstacle. He hummed an air under his breath as he went along. It had been very simple—more so even than he had expected. It had been almost tame! II. The Trap. Dez.ve Henderson lost no time on his return journey. Within some fifteen or twenty minutes after leaving the residence of Mr. Martin K. Tydeman he slipped into the lane at the rear of the shabby house on the shabby street fhat he called his home, and, entering the shed, closed the door softly behind him. Here, it was but the work of an instant to take the sealed package of banknotes from the black handbag, reach up, slide the e in through the little door of the old pigeon-cote, push the pack- age over into one corner, cover it with the!chaff and old straw with which, relics of bygone days of occupancy, the bottom of the pigeon-cote was lit- tered, and to close the little door again. He stooped then, a2nd, unlacing his shoes quickly,-removed them. He had only one thing to guard against now, and his alibl was perfect, his posses. sion of one hundred thousand dollars secure. Tooler must not hear him en- tering the house. Tooler must be morally convinced that he, Dave Hen- derson, had never left the house. As :mnnhanv.hckwhummmln ‘would put on his shoes, call up to Tooler that he was going, and,. with the empty black bag, get into his car—and drive up to Martin K. Tydeman's! . G “Some uproar!” confided Dave Hen- derson to himself. *“When I ask old K. to fill the 1i'l old bag, and 6 _goes for the cash, there’ll be—" ‘Hijs mental lolil::gqy_anded abrupt- ;y, He hi ope the door noise- jessly that led into the house, and was creeping without a sound along the hallway toward the door of his room ati the front of the house—and now. ota. " Wan It fancy. his Imsaination A ination ‘lnmr tricks upon him, or zud i brains overtime—on ; Tooler come downstairs? It seemed as' though he had caught the sound of a lowered voice; and it seemed as though it had come from his own room there along the hall And then he smiled sarcastically at himself, and_began to creep forward again. He had complained of the whole thing being tame, and now he was getting an attack of nerves ‘when it was all over! -How could he have heard s lowered voice through the | closed door of his room? It was a physical Impossibility. And 'Tooler, in_any case, was not in the habit of talking to himself! Tooler never talked to any one If he could help it. The man always seemed to be nurs ing a perennial grudge that he hadn't been born a mute! Dave Henderson's smile broadened at his little conceit—and the next in- stant vanished entirely, as his lips compressed suddenly into o hard, stralght line. He had halted for the second time, hugged now close against the wall. The door of his room was not closed, and it was not Tooler—and it was not nerves. The| door was slightly ajar, and the words came quite audibly, and the guarded voice had a haunting familiarity about it: 1 “Sure, I grabbed the train, an'| Bookie stalled on being able to get old Tydeman on the long-distance uptil after the train—an’ me on it— was on our way. Tumble Dave Henderson did not move. Into his face there had come, set in a gray- ish-whiteness, a look that mingled stunned amazement and a gathering fury. He had recognized that voice| now, and, in a flash, what that voice | meant. It was Runty Mott, a miser- able little red-haired rat of a race- course tout and hanger-on. Runty Mott—Bookie Skarvan' He remem- bered very well indeed that Bookie Skarvan could not get Tydeman on the long distance until after the train was gone! i Another voice chuckled in malicious it was Runty Mott again—"Bookie Skarvan's got some head! Some wiped out all right, but I guess this puts him on Easy street again. Fifty thousand for him, an’ we split the rest. Bookie says to he, he ‘It Dave_goes an' gets that money. an’ disappears afterward. he says, ‘it's cinch, with the ragged reputation he's got, that he stole it, an’ beat it for parts unknown, an’ if them parts un- known,’ he says, ‘is a nice little mound’ of earth somewheres in the woods about six feet long an’ four feet deep, due to Dave having collided with a blackjack, I guess the police'll be concluding after a while that Dave was smart enough to give 'em the slip an’_get away with the coin for You grab the train for 'Frisco, * he says, ‘an’ wise up Baldy Vickers to what I say. You got a good two hours,’ he says, ‘to set the stage up_there before Dave blows in.” Came that malicious chuckle agal “An’ the poor boob went ah cracked the crib himself!" ejaculated Runty Mott's companion—and chuc- more. sald Runty Mott. “Bookie called the turn all right on the guy’s reputation—he was born a crook. Well, it makes it all the easier, don't it? it might have been harder to get | him when we wanted him if he'd just gone up there an’' got the money on the level. As it is now, he's ducking his nut, trying to play innocent, an’ he comes back here to make a nice fresh start up to old Tydeman’s again. Only he didn't reckon on any one trailing him from the minute he got out of his car! I guess we got him— good. Spike telephoned ten minutes ago that Dave was on his way back. If he comes in by the shed, the boys'll see he don’t get out that way again: an’ if he comes in by the front he get a peach of a welcome home! Tumble? This is where he croaks— an’ no mnoise about it—an’ you look out that you swing the lead so's you won’t have to swing it twice. We can carry him out through the : get_the mortal remains aw with no one the wiser.” Runty Mott was chuckling now quite as mali- ciously as his companion. “Can’t you see the headlines in the papers! “Promising Young Man Succumbs to Temptation.’ Say, it's the safest thing that was ever pulled, an'—" He stopped suddenly. A low whistle sounded from the street in front. “Keep quiet!” cautioned Runty Mott. “He's coming in by the lane.” (Cantinued in Tomorrow’s Star.) 1 ITTLE CTORIES [/‘6‘B£1S>Tn??r: Striped Chipmunk’s Little Joke. BY THORNTON W. BURGESS. A little laughter every da; Will chase and keep the blues away, —Striped Chipmunk. Striped Chipmunk loves to laugh. He is one of the happiest and most merry-hearted of all the little people of the Old Orchard and the Green Forest, as you all know. He has a temper, but he never keeps ill-tem- pered very long. That Black Pussy should have so nearly caught him made him very ai gry, and the discovery that his little round doorway in the middle of the path was no longer safe, and so he must make a new one, made him more angry. But after the new one was made and he had a good rest he was his usual good-natured self. The next morning Striped Chip- munk sat on the stone beside his new doorway. You remember it was be- tween that stone and a big mullein plant. The mullein leaves hung over and quite hid it. And that stone was a Landy place to sit. Striped Chip- munk was even more pleased with his new doorway than he had been with the one in the middle of the path. A friend, Farmer Brown's Boy, and an enemy, Elack Pussy the Cat, had found that one. But no one knew of this one, and he daidn’t intend that any one should. Pretty soon he saw Farmer Brown's Bay coming down the path. Striped Chipmunk whisked away through the grass and when Farmer Brown's Boy reached the little hole in the path Striped Chipmunk was sitting beside it as usual, waiting for the good things Farmer Brown's Boy was sure to have for him. Farmer Brown's Boy fed him and petted him as usual and never once suspected that Striped Chipmunk was no longer using that hole as the entrance to his home. Hardly was Farmer Brown's Boy out of sight when Black Pussy came stealing "down the path. Striped Chipmunk sat on the stone by the UCKLED INSIDE AS HE W HOW INTENTLY SHE WAS WATCHING THE PATH AHEAD OF HER. mullein plant and watched her. He. chuckled inside as he saw how in- tently she was watching the path ahead of her. He chuckled still more as he saw how stealthily and care- fully she crept along as she drew near that little hole in the path. A foet away from it she crouched, just as she had done the day before, all ready to spring. Striped Chipmunk realized now how narrow had been his escape. Only when she turned her head for a hasty look to make sure no one had followed her or was watching her did she take her eyes from that little hole a foot in front of her. It tickled Striped Chip- munk to think that the one for whom she was watching was all the time right in plain sight watching her. Finally he had to go down inside his house so as to chuckle without being heard. Black Pussy was just as patient as she had been the day before. Striped Chipmunk made half a dogen trips along the old stone wall, taking care to make no sound. Each time when he returned he found Black Pussy watching that hole, motionless save for the twitching of the tip of her tail. o At last Striped Chipmunk could stand it no longer. He scurried along the old stone wall for some distance, then out through the grass to the path. In the middle of this he sat up. His bright eyes twinkled. He f | | ' (Copyright, 1921, by the Internatioaal Syndicate.) . MILLIONS OF PENCILS USED IN SCHOOLS O U. S. EVERY YEAR ‘Washington. Dear Travel Clubbe: Now that school is with us again I thought the juniors would like to take a little trip to a pencil factory. Maybe they do not like the sight. of a pencil so soon after vacation and I know they seen: awful heavy to me. The hardest part about a pencil to me is to keep it sharp, so they have little grinder: for doing that, but I break them jus the same. On my trip to Jersey City, Newark and New York city I passed right through the center of the pencil- making territory and I found that close to a billion pencils are made out of American cedar. They say about a quarter of this number are sent to other countries, which leaves 750,000,000 for the people in the United States. The census shows about 110,000,000 people iIn the United States, so that would be about seven pencils for each person. Now what I want to know is why it is no one hardly ever has one? I can hardly ever find one, I know that. 2 The middle part of the pencil, which is the part that makes the mark, is graphite. Ceylon furnishes most of the graphite used in the United States and about 180,000 tons of graphite are produced every year and a lot of it is used in mak- ing pencils and for ‘other things. Ever since the world began I gues: people have tried to make marks in one way or another and the marks we find on stones of ancient times are studied by scholars. But when the pencil came along that was some- thing all could use, and I suppose from then on there came to be more schools. In 1812 a man named Monroe made about flve hundred pencils, one at a time, and sold them in Boston, but the war came and the people did not have much time for pencils. Then Joseph Dixon tried it some years later, but they could make pencils cheaper in Europe, and he had to give it up. In 1861 Eberhard Faber be- gan making pencils in a factory in New York city and now we have pen- cils of all shapes and sizes for almost any kind of use. They come in all colors, too. They are the ones I like. Now that they say wood is getting scarce and forest fires are burning up thousands of trees every day, along comes the paper pencil. But paper is made of wood so maybe some day we will not have so many pencils after all, but I am afraid all the members of the Junior Travel Club will be out of school by that time. How many got out their pencils and wrote down the questions of the last “trip” of the Junior Travel Club? Of course, you all found that Chester A. Arthur followed James A. Gar- fleld as President. Then, of course, you found that Washington was in- augurated in New York city the first time, where the United States Sub- Treasury building stands. Maybe it was a little harder to find that P. T. Barnum was the man who managed the trip of Jenny Lind, when the singer came to this country. You see I did not say anything in my letter about her being a singer, and I won- der how many Junior ‘avel Club members knew who she was. She was —_— e chuckled softly. Then at the top of his voice he began to gcold, telling Bfl.l(l:k Pussy just what he thought of her. There never was a more surprised cat in all the Great World than was Black Pussy. She glared at Striped Chipmunk. Then she glared at the hole in front of her. It was plain that she couldn’t understand at all how Striped Chipmunk could be out there in that path. Striped Chip- munk hugged himself for joy. It was the best joke ever. At least he thought so. (Copyright, 1921, by T. W. Burgess.) W. &7 SLOANE {1508 H STREET, N. W. NOTE WASHINGTON, D.C. ~ The selling prices of our merchandise have been reduced in full proportion to all lower replacement costs For those desirous of making satisfactory purchases of CARPETS, ORIENTAL and DOMESTIC RUGS and LINOLEUMS No time is more opportune than the present. Complets stocks of new merchandise — prices strongly appealing to the careful buyer—standard qualities assuring satisfactory service—all combine to further your interest. , WILTON CARPETS Both figured and plain effects—in all the usual widths, are now in stock for immediate delivery. ‘ SEAMLESS CHENILLE and ENGLISH CARPETINGS in 6 ft., 9 ft, 12 ft., and 15 ft. widths. These are obtainable in a very great variety of colorings, and being seamless, can be used either in Rug form, or to you—the variety and excellence of our merchandise will - make easy the problem of selection. T Store hours 8 A. M. 1.5.30 P. /. { born one hundred years ago in Octo- ber and came to this country in 1850, after singing in all the big cities in Europe. While over here she mar- ried the man who played the piano for her when she sang. Upon re- turning to her home in Sweden she founded a famous music school with the money she had earned over here. The profits of her trip were about $300,000. That sounds very small when we remember the money Caruso made before he died. But Jenny Lind could not sing for the music boxes, 80 _her voice is gone forever. What members of the Junior Travel Club know some of the things Ralph Waldo Emerson and Nathaniel Haw- thorne wrote? You remember I said something about them in one of my last letters. Write to me and tell me of the Interesting places you have seen. RUSSELL BURKE. The Travelog Boy. Joe McGoern: William McKinley died in Buffalo at the home of Mr. Milburn. 5 Anna Miller: Bryant Park is on 424 street, New York city, and directly behind the Carnegle Library, which is at the corner of 5th avenue. Horseradish Sauce. Melt two tablespoonfuls of either bacon fat or butter end fry in it until brown one-fourth of an onion chopped fine. Add two tablespoons of cracker meal and three tablespoons of grated horseradish and gradually stir in one cup of boiling. water. Cook until smooth, then stir in two tablespoons of vinegar, two cloves, onc-half tea- spoon of salt, one-eighth teaspoon of pepper and two tablespoons 'of sugar; cook for five minutes longer and serve hot with meat. This is especially good with boiled beef. —_— White batiste blouses run with threads of red linen. MADE IN U, §. A. FEATURE Potato Souffle. Select four large potatoes, pare, quarter, boil and mash, then stir in two tablespoonfuls of butter, salt and pepper to taste, and two teaspoonfuls of minced parsley. Add one cup of hot milk and the beaten yolks of four eggs. Beat the yolks in thoroughly and then fold in quickly the stiffly- PAGE. beaten whites. Place in a well but tered deep baking dish at once and bake for twenty minutes in a mod- erate oven. —_— Silver brald an inch wide mad« into a girdle. Little segments of the braid are held together with black etal buckles. Look for the “Wear-Ever” . trade-mark on the bottom of EVERY aluminum cook- ing utensil that you buy— * McCutcheon; “The Linen Store” says— James McCatcheon & Company is one of the leading merchants who have recently made a thorough investi- gation of the safe way to wash fine fabrics. For their own 83 well as their customers’, these manufac- ing directions in booklet form sent free ", turers are urging that their products be laandered in Lux. - Complete e Isundering on request. Lever Bros. Co., Cambridge, Mass. L. . W' injure anything pure evater alone won’t harm —and be sure of getting utensils that you candepend upon for quality — utensils that will give satisfactory service for years and years. A BIG “Wear-Ever” special offer next week-Watch for it! 4 Madein U. S, A