Evening Star Newspaper, November 6, 1921, Page 73

! y THE SUNDAY: STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, NOVEMBER 6, 1921—PART % | BLOOD MONEY_ One of the Exploits of Don 0. They’re Off! And Nerves Go HE actlon of Don Manuelo Tuiz, the civil governor of Castelleno, when he had sent Ramon Fuentes, the bull fighter, ® join Don Q.’s band 'and then to take scrne opportunity of murdering him was bitterly resented by the brigand chief. As he sald himself, he had many enemies.. Agalnst the civil puard and against those who met him face to face he had no enmity at all, but for anything that savored of treachery, and more especially of treachery which necessitated for its carrying out the abuse of hosplitality, Don Q. had an abhorrence. It was the governor who had started the hunt, but he had not realized what a dangerous creature it was that he was chasing. Day after day and night after night Don Q. sat in his cave, and much of his time was occupled with thoughts of the unpaid debt which he owed to Don Manuelo. At length one evening while he sat brooding Robledo came up the path and an- nounced that Isabellilla, one of the most trusted of Don Q.S intelligence department, had come up the moun- tains and wished to speak to her chief. A moment later she was brought into the cave, a flashing, dark beauty, as full of vitality as women seem to be only under the southern sun. She wore a coarse vellow scarf upon her blue-black hair, and only her extreme fear of Don' Q., a fear not unallied to affec- tion, which was shared by all the peasantry and charcoal burners of those regions, kept her from break- ing at once into her tale. Don Q. looked at her with a grim smile. “Well, Isabellilla,” said he, vou have, I trust, obeyed your orders?" “Master. eagerl in the house of Don Manuelo, governor.' “How did you galn entrance? They say that Don Manuello walks in fear and trusts none.” cried the young woman have spent many houl:a the Isabellilla laughed. “There is al- ways a way when my lord com- mands,” she said, “and I now do the In this way I secrets of the governor's washing. have earned the house.” said Don Q. “You have “Good," dono well. Now tell me what you have heard.” * ok ok T"H buxom Isabellilla broke into speech like a hound in full cry. “The governor,” she said, “has in his safe a paper signed by the great ones in Madrid, and in this paper it is said that $50,000 will be paid to the man who takes my lord's life.” “And who will pay this money?” X - says that the payment will hands of Don Man- uelo, Don And does Don ever speak of matador?” yes,” said Tsabel- day last week he to Urcaro. nis old servant, that if e heard anything—any gossip in the town—about Fuentes, he was to tell hiim of it at once. S “And did Urcano hear anything? He heard the storles that my lord ordered to be spread abroad.” And what were these stories?” “That it was reported from the mountaing that there had been much singing of masses in the chapel of Pedro, as though some great i the mountains were dead. It wits ulso Ramon reported that Don as hiding in the mountains, men of my lord were 1t was whispered 1 Don Manueio was told , what did he say, Isa- been successful? ™ at all he said?” v lord, except that he gave hat was this order?” that a geant and a file s shauld camp in his garden by the house. They are there now, my Jord.” Don Q. nodded. “You have done very well, Isabellilla,” sald he, “and no doubt your husband, Robledo, is waiting for you. Tell me, how are your children? ‘There are three, are there not?” “Three boys”” =ald Isabellilla, proudjy, “so high, so high, and so high.” She indicated the heights with her hand. “Presently no doubt, the cldest will join Robledo beside my lord's fires.” And will that please you, Isabel- asked Don Q. almost sadly. ill it please you that your son ghould become as we are—here in the mountains?” “We are my lord's servants,” an- swered Isabellilla, “and already the boy's eyes turn to the hills. Only jast week he slew a deer on the land of .the count of Polema. He— ‘“snough!" broke in Don Q. “Go. By H. Hesketh Prichard Tonight you will sleep by our fires. Tomorrow you will go back to Cas- telleno in order that you may keep watch upon that very sordid cabal- lero, Don.Manuelo, the governor. * X Xk % T was after dinner two nights later, and the governor had dined well. He was now engaged in smok- ing one of those brown clgarettes much doctored with saltpeter, which have thelr mouthpleces toustcd with some sweet substance, and which are so popular in Spain. Old Urcano had just brought the coffee, when once more he entered and said that a priest wished to have audience of his ex- cellency. “No. no, no,” cried Don Manuelo. ; annot be disturbed at th hour.” ‘The holy father made his apolo- gies,’ said the old servant. “and feared that would be the case. He suld If it were 80, 1 was to hand mis‘ WY exeien He passed across a little piece of| Daper, a corner, as it were, that might have been torn off a document. The governor stared at it. You will bring the holy father in here at once,” said he. A moment later a little, fragile- lo(lklng priest limped into the room. Permit me. to introduce myself, \ X and forgive my ‘importunity. excel- lency. I am Father Sebastian, and I look after the souls of those who live in the village of Enclerro.” The governor bowed. “I am glad to meet you,” said he. “Is not En- cierro the parish that lies beneath the mountain of Sabio Blanco?” “Yes, yes,* said the little priest, “and there are terrible men who dwell upon Sabie Blanco, though the most terrible of them all: " He checked himself. . “Well, what of the most terrible of them all?” asked the governor. “Nay, nay; I know not” said the priest, “for I am a man of peace, and it is my duty to give the con- solations of ‘religion equally to the just and the unjust. But a strange thing has happened, for one morn- ing four days ago, two wild-looking men came knocking at my door and demanded to see me. I came down and met them. Each éne produced a sack of money, which he placed upon the table, and each said that this money was to pay for masses for the soul of one who was dead, or who was about to die. Then they turned, and without more words walked out of the village, and I saw them climb up the foothills of the mountains with the speed of goats™ “This is very interesting,” said Don Manuelo. “Two sacks of money, you ,* sald the priest, “and that is not the most strange part of it, for it was not copper that was in these sacks, but silver and gold.” “And you saw no more of these men?” The little priest shook his head. “I am a man of peace,” said he, “and these are terrible men—men beyond the law—they frighten me, for 1 am of very timid nature.” “But this,” said the governor, “this piece of paper with nothing written upon it which you sent in by my servant. What s the meaning of h, I forgot,” said the priest. “It was handed to me in my chapel of Pedro, and with it a letter.” ! “Where is this letter?’ cried the governor. “Here, excellency, here.” Don Manuelo tore it open. It bore but a few words in Spanish. and was addressed to no one in particular. Here are the words: "It is done: but my life is in danger from the others. If' 1 can esrcape I will be with yau to report on the night of Friday in the hours before the moon rises.” There was no signature. “The man who gave you this— should you recognize him?" demanded the governor. “It was dark in the chapel, and I d not see his face, excellency.” fou have done well to bring me {this document,” said the governor, “but you will do better still to forget that you have ever been here. Good evening, father, good evening. It may be that you have served the state well." * “The saints have you in their holy keeping, excellency,” said the priest, and a moment later Urcano had ush- ered him through a side door into the night. As he walked up the street the old servant could hear him chanting softly one of the benedictions of his church. “A very holy man,” said he, “with- out doubt one of the hollest men in Andalusia.” ‘We must follow for & moment the movements of the good priest whose actions for so holy a man might now have struck the unblased on- looker as peculiar. = He drew a knife from under his poutane, paused once or twice, turned and walked back quickly on his tracks, and when he came to a corner he stood there in the shadows until, at last, certain that he-was not being followed he went off into the lower parts of the town. ‘The city of Castelleno lies upon rising ground. The governor's house and the residences of those whom we may call the leading citizens were all on top of the slope; down below, not_far from the river which runs its turbulent course among the little clift faces, lies the poorer part of the town. Into these districts the priest made his way, and passing down a poor street knocked upon the door of a dark hoyse. It was opened by no less a person than the beautiful Isabellilla. The priest entered. “My Lord Don Q. seen the governor?” breathed Isabellilla. “Yes, yes; I have indeed seen him, bellilla, but you will do well to re- mnfher that !yam Father Sebastian, and that the name of brigand Don terrifies me. Now, where is Robledo A moment later the young moun- taineer stood before his chief. “Robledo,” said Don Q., “you will go up into the mountains, and you wlill tell Fuentes that I have made appointment for him to_visit the | meet him. And now, Tsabel- . some tortillas and a glass of wine, for 1 grow weary of talking: Isabellllla placed supper before her master, and far into the night Don Q. sat at the table smoking cigarette ter cigarette, and drinking the ex- llent wine which had never paid e as s I will ! du * ok kK T was on the night of the Friday following, and the clock on the great tower, which is the salient feature of the town of Castelleno, had already struck 12, when the large form of Fuentes, the bull fighter, ac- companied by a little priest with & Iimp. stepped out from the house of Isabellilla. “You understand your orders?’ " answered Fuentes. are, fool,” hissed Don Q. me as you should o ‘Have a “You do nct address ! address a holy pr Yes, holy father, Then forward. little conversation ernor. It was not long before they came to the large square building sur- rounded with railings and its garden of shrubs, which was the official resi- dence of Don Manuelo. Fuentes looked at the great dark building in which no light showed, and would have pursued his way, but suddenly some- thing arrested his attention. “The garden is full of soldlers, holy father,” he whispered. “I see them, I see them,” piped the little priest, “and I have no doubt that there is some kind of treachery afoot. You will ring the bell and see the governor. In the meantime, I will leave you for the moment, for there are more ways of getting into a house than by its doors.” The bell tinkled, and a moment later the door was opened by old Urcano. “Who are you who come so late?’ he asked. “My name does not matte; swered Fuentes, “but my busin with his excellency Don Manuelo.” inside and let me look at * said Fuentes. Let us have our with the _gov- an- is Once within, and the door shut, the old man lifted his lantern. “You are Fuentes, the bull fighter?’ he questioned. “My name is Fuentes, and I was a bull fighter.” Urcano bowed. he said. “Follow me then,” He led the way to the presence of | SPlendid mask over a plebelan face. It the governor, who was sitting in a | lies behind a long line of palaces and! small room, which opened out upon the piazza or balcony, working at his official papers, or pretending to do s0, when Fuentes was shown in un- ilnnonnced and the door shut behind him. ) The governor leaped to his feet. “Fuentes, Fuentes!" he cried. am delighted to see you.” Fuentes bent his nead. “And what of your mission?" I have come to claim my reward.” “Softly, softly,” said the governor. You have first to prove that you ave suceeeded.” Fuentes put his hand into his pocket. “Here Is his ring.,” said he. “The seal upon it is well known.” The governor laid the ring on the table, - “After I killed him,” said Fuentes, “I had to fly or his men would have slain me.” “How did you kill him?” asked the governor, licking his lips. “One night,” said Fuentes, like a man repeating a lesson, “when the camp slept, I went up to the cave in which he dwells. 1 took with me cold steel. After it was done 1 escaped.” “Did you take anything but his ring?" T we should both regret. Take that sword from the wall, Fuentes. You should know how to use it, for I see that it is the weapon of a mat- ador. They gave it you, no doubt, as a little compliment when you were president at the bull ring last Easter, your excellency?” “Who™ are you?" cried the gov- ernor, “and how dare you enter my house in this fashion?” ) “As to who I am, have ‘you for- gotten the priest of Enclerro, who sings masses for those who dls in the mountains, and as to how I came here, there is the piazza, and the plazza has wooden supports, and for a man of my age 1 am very active, dear Don Manuelo.”” * ok ok K ITH these words, the priest re- moved his hat and threw it upon the chair. “Don Q. groaned Don Manuelo. ‘Exactly—Don Q. Now let us get to business, my dear governor, as quickly as we can. There are two ways in which we can do it. One is that we should gag and bind you, the ot her that yould give your word u will not raise the alarm. ich is it to be?" my word." sald Don Q. “Then let us What do you want?" asked the governor, in a strangled voice. “The fifty thousand dollars which the government are offering as my blood-money." “I have no such sum in the resi- dency.” “How sad!" “What do you mean?" “What I say, my dear governor. If you cannot find the money, there will be a vacancy for a civil gov- lleno within the next “The money I8 not in this room.” “Then where s it?" The pause which Don Manuelo made betrayed him. “I fear we shall have to use the cold steel, Fuentes,” said Don Q. “It was by the cold steel you killed me, if you remember, In that interesting story you told his excellency.” “No, no,” moaned the governor. money 1S in the safe.” “Then open it.”" i The safe door swung open, but' in doing so0 it came between the go; ernor and his antagonists. Don Man- | uelo sprang for the piazzo—for 50| stout a man his movements were | amazing swift—and his shrill voice| shrieked out for succor and help. But he had not_ reckoned with Fuentes. The bull-fighter, who had not spoken since Don Q. entered the room, leapad over the safe, and with the quickness of lightning drove his matador’'s sword down into the gov- ernor's body. At the same moment Don Q. swept the few papers that were in the safe into_his pocket, and crying to Fuentes, “Follow!" rushed from the room. Vith Fuentes at his heels he ran down the passage: outside they could hear a rushing and a shouting of men. With uncanny swiftness Don Q. unlatched an guter foor. and a mo. €er botl e V' Kty and Fuentes were “Do as T do!" hissed Don Bome soldiers and hatf-a-dogert Tars passers-by came rushing to the door. | and with will cries of “Open, open'" Don Q. began to beat upon it. The newcqmers, in mad excitement, fol- lowed his example. As_the con- fusion rea ched its height Don Q. and | Fuentes slipped away into the dark- | But Don Q. only accom, for, thirty or forty pacens " ied Fuentes ‘Be well on your way to the mountains by daylight,” he whis- pered, “and wait for me with Ro- bledo at the Cross of Felipity.” Then he turned back and' entered the governor's house at the tail of | the crowd which was pushing its way in. He walked straight to the room where the governor lay dead, and knelt down beside the body. ‘It 18 too late” said he. “The poor est ;h[:’ come too late!” catter'” cried the sergeaot who was in command of the soldiers, | Scatter! The man who killed him cannot have got far away. Your name, holy father, for you will be wanted at the inquiry as a witness.” My name” lisped the little priest, is Father Sebastian, and look after the souls of those who live in the village of Encierro, mountains. Ao here e 2 You can find Y ties me there at The scrgeant took down the name in_his book. ood night, senor sergeant., good night. These are terribl They terrify me.” jeiggtan Three hours later, before the. dawn had broken in the sky, Don Q. mounted on his mule. was riding upx’l\'d into the mountains. 8 soon as it grew light, h frgxn(;h Rls h‘l:louket lhag docal::l:g W e taken fro - ernor's safe. T ihe ieoved “There are sixty thousand dollars here,” 8aid he. “Well, well, Fuentes, we will keep fifty thousand that we | have fairly earned, and I will send back the rest to the new governor as soon as he is appointed, with my compliments,” (Copyright, 1921.) Narrowest Streets. has been said that Benares, the sacred city of the Hindus, is like a IT temples; these, following the Ganges, are wonderful and glorious, but they cannot compensate for the squalor that they are meant to conceal. One fea- ture alone would make the city unbear- able to any stranger used to air spaces and light; the streets are llke cracks between two rows of houses. As one passes into the alley occupied by the wealthy, it narrows more and more, until the breadth is so slight that a man might almost step from the win- dows ol one houss into those of an- o across the way. Ordinary speech front room on one side of the lane s plainly audible by the neighbors op- posite. _ One enters this lane by a gate of mas- sive wood, set in a stone archway. Tho first houses run 150 or 200 feet, and then the lane turns, at right angles, and accommodates two other opposing build- ings. Then, there is another turn, and two more houses, and so the alley runs, until it ends in a distant street. | Temperatures Underground IT used to be thought that the tem- Perature increased at a fairly reg- “Y took this—and this—and this—"Ular rate with descent into the crust and Fuentes laid upon the table three piles of documents. “And these,” he added, “which are stained with blood, are those he was writing upon when I slew him.” The governor looked through the papers, and heaved a deep sigh. He was convince “And now,” said Fuentes, “the set- tlemen “Settlement?” questioned the gov- ernor. “The $50,000. Here is the agree- ment.” “Ah, of course,” said the governor. “Let me glance at it.” . As soon as it was in his hands Don Manuelo rolled it up into a ball and tossed it into the fire. doing?” d “What are you Fuentes. The governor smiled, and went to the piazza. “This house, you will perceive my good Fuentes, is sur- rounded by soldiers, and if I reme: ber right you are wanted by the law. Fuentes started back. “But the $50,000 you promised me?” wThink again,” said the governor. ‘Was not the sum $1,000? After all, the brain that lald the trap was mine. You will do well to come to terms, Fuentes, for at neither of our inte; views have we had any 'witnesses. “You have had a witness of this interview, at least, your excellency, sald a voice, and in another m ment the figure of a little limpin, priest, with a revolver in his hand, advanced into the room from the large plazza. *“No, no, do not call out or attempt to give the alarm, or 1 shall be forced to take steps which crie of the earth, but it appears that re- cent measurements in deep mines and borings do not bear out the as- sumption. Some investigators are now disposed to think that, instead of regularly increasing, the temperature is not far from statlonary below the superficial zone. In the Witwatersand mines the average rate of increase, carried down to 8,000 feet, is only 1 degree Fahrenheit for each 2560 feet of descent. . The bottom tem- perature is 102.35 degrees. Measurements in -other places have given various results. In the Kal- goorlie mines, in Australia, practical- ly no variation of temperature is shown Detween depths of 1,400 and 2,300 Teet. The resuit of recent fig- ures shows that there is no general law governing the increase of rock temperature with depth. Dead Sea Salt. HE old question of the origin of the extreme saltiness of the Dead sea has received a new answer. It has been shown, after demonstrating that the soil and rocks can have fur- nished but a fraction of the gquantity of salt that has collected in the Dead sea basin, that the most important source of supply of this salt is at- mospheric transportation by winds from the Mediterranean. This view, it is thought, is confirmed by the fact that the ratio of chlorine to bromine in the Dead sea is the same as in the Mediterranean. 5 {animal’ with an excellent record as |day when the owner came around to The Maryland Rac- ing Season at Its Height—Spell of the Race Track. Stories of the Run- ners and Trotters. BY MARJORIE WILSON, LEAR BLUE the. sky, crisp and breezy the October day, brilliant sun burnishing the bronze and gold countryside beyond the race track to an unex- pected glory of autumn beavty. Men of all types, rougs &nd pol- ished—but lovers of sport and of the out-of-door—gathered ia grours of cameraderle in the grandstund, nesr rail and paddock, between tiose moments of tension when sleek hormes race to the wire, colorfully garbed wisbs of Jjockeys clinging to their necks. The thrill of man's mastery of this glorious animal, the horse; the ex- citement of contest, of chance; the rivalry 'tween horse and horse, joined in by owner, by breeder, by stable- men, by track followers, by slangy, 17/ e Isnt she beauti &_xl‘ul hardened railbirds. by the “flower and chivalry” in the grandstands. The running races are on! And it {s at such times between ! races that one hears horsemen re- count among themselves their favor- ite anecdotes concerning races and race horses, and catches incidental sidelights of sentiment connected with the turf. * ok %k ¥ THEY tell the romance of a Mary- land race horse and a little col- ored stable boy. A certain breeder had brought to his stables a new horse, a highly sérung winner of purses, a beautiful thing of which he had high hopes. But the change from one stable to another seemed to have affected the Beauty. She would not eat. She would not sleep. Night after night she stood in her | stall, pawing the ground, wide awake, | never dozing. | She lost weight. And looks. | Stablemen and veterinarlans could do nothing for her. They worriedi over her, examined her and shook their heads. “Nothing physical,” said they. “It's a_state of mind. Oh, yes, horsemen believe that horses have minds and souls. They know they have temperaments. 1t looked as if the Beauty was suf- fering a nervous breakdown. Her new owner was at a loss to| know what to do about her. He, watched her carefully. ht colored lad who was evidently wise in the ways! of the training stables turned up | from nowhere in particular. The boy sidled up to the owner of the ailing horse. s N “I know what's the matter with dat Beauty. boss,” he remarked with a wige nod of the head. “Uh-huh?* The horseman barely noticed the youngster. “Yaseah, you hire me to look after her, and she'll be all right, boss,” the boy went on confidently. “I don’t have colored boys around my stables.” “All right, boss. ItIl be your h funeral, not mine. But she's a fine hoss, ‘and I hate to see her die on yu jow, what makes you think you know anything about a horse—about this one in particular?” the horseman d, curiously. Nebah you min’, boss. You just hire me’ and you all 'll see,” the lad Ppleaded. “Sorry. I just have white boy: ‘The conversation ended there. Next have another Took at the Beauty, he came away from the stable more downcast than eter. And as if by chance the little colored stranger blocked his pathway again. H Again the boy urged the man to hire him to look after and cure the Beauty. And again the man refused. ‘The third day the same meeting and | the same request. But this time the owner of the horse gave in to the persistent and persuasive youngster. “I won't hire you. Can't break a rule. But if you stay around here and can do anything for the horse T'll see that you are paid well. You're an arrogant little plece of nerve. ‘We'll see whether there’s anything back of your talk,” the owner agreed finally, almost in desperation. “Yessah, boss, yassah. You all ‘Il see.” and the boy beamed. ‘The Beauty had not slept or eaten for a week now. She had lost many pounds. “If she was human I'd say she was breakin’ her heart over some- If she did I — = *C" ) At night one of the stablemen in pleased excitement telephoned the owner at the house. “The Beauty's sleeping, sir,” was his message. “She’s going to come through all right” In a few moments the owner reached the stable. He went to the stall where the high-strung Beauty had been walking nervously night after night for a week with never a wink of sleep and never an attempt at rest. There the tired horse lay in deep sleep. the stranger, colored boy, snug- gled up against her. The Beauty had been pining away for the little human bedfellow to whose presence she had become ac- customed back in her former stable. In a week's time she was her sleek, spirited self again. Her owner has broken his old rule. He has a black boy working for him now. * ok ok * TTALES of exhibitions of affection and temperament by race horses are frequent. Like prima donnas, they are petted and trained and prepared for certain performances when it is demanded of them that they put all their—talent, artistry, techni shall we say—into concentrated activity. Anything that upsets a singer emo- tionally is most disadvantageous to good performance. So with a highly nerved horse, bred for occasional bursts of speed. That slang saying, "I got his goat” —what does it mean? Where did it originate It came from the race track. One hears scores of variations of the story of how it started. Briefly, it is this: Once on a time there was a won- derful race horse. This runner had a stall companion, a goat, to which it was greatly attached. Some villian from a rival stable stole the goat. is was a couple of days before a big race in which the owner expected his horse to win a mighty big purse. The horse be- came wild and nervous when the goat did not return to him. If he had been human his actions would have been described as hysterical. Need- less to say, he lost the race. The rival stable had got his goat, literally and figuratively. Every person has a goat—some pet vanity, some suscep- tible point of weakness that he doesn’t like people to poke at, some beloved habit that he doesn't want disturbed. So that the exact meaning of the phrase, “to get his goat'—as gleaned from race-track philosophers—is to set in agitation some one's emotions by means of a well-directed thrust at his weakness, =o that he is thrown off his normal course of action or little black mare, Grace !; | | thought into a condition of worriment that makes for inefficiency. EEE A BEAUTIFUL woman is queen wherever she goes—except at a race track. At the races she retires into the background of attention. She is only part of the atmosphere, just a touch of color in the picture. All the romance and sentiment at the track centers about the race horses. Women haven't much of a chance there. Their personality, their charms avail them naught when all the men folks can see or think of ape their favorite horses. For there the horse has first place in man's heart. Poe said it all. He described be- yond hope of more exactitude the men of the turf when he wrote: ‘Whose laughs are hearty, though his jests ure coarse, And loves you best of all things—but # his horse. ‘Women who follow their husbands to the races accept this fact. A very pretty compliment H. K. Devereux, well-known turf promoter, paid to his horse, John A. McKerron, when he was exhibited on one oc- casion at the races. In the midst of the applause that greeted this famous trotter, Mr. Devereux stood up in his box, visibly affected and addressed the grand- stand: “Ladies and gentlemen, a man has three loves in his life—his wife, his dog and his horse. My dog is dead. My wife is here with me. And— there's my horse.” A sentimental lot, these men who follow the horses. * ok x ¥ S TORIES of probibition and other- wise at the races are told by old- timers of the turf. Perhaps the one of most meritcomes from Ted Kline, sport- ing writer. It is the revelation of how the Kentucky Futurity stake was won in 1904. » Kline saw the race himself. It was October. The Kentucky Trotting Horse Breeders' Association was out in full force and enthusiasm. But—let Kline tell it aimself, as he told a group at the rapes recently: P, “I¢ was Futurity day—a day that is the day of days in the calendar of the trotting - horse lover. Harness - horse fans from all the world were in attend- ance. The earlier races on the pro- gram attracted little attention. It was the Futurity they had come to see—that gathering of three-year-old stars, for a purse close to $20,000. “Some twelve greats and near-greats were carded to face the starter, but the Bond, by The { Tense! Why the Beauty Could Not Sleep. How the 1904 Fu- turity Was Won, as Toid by a Sporting Writer—A Tale of the Goat. Bondsman, and bred and the big chestnut filly, worthy, by Axw in_old Kentucky, Alta Ax- w York bred, specuiatively were the choices inclined “It took five heats to decide the win- ner. Driven by Billy Andr Grace Bond won the first and second the then fast time of 2 in 2:09%. She was so tny and 8o slen- der-boned that it leoked as though she would no longer be & factor in the race. a8 Alta Axworthy, one of the largest three-year-olds th- werld has ever. seen, won the next two heats in the slow time of 2:11% and 2:13. “Opinions differed. Some spectators thought that Andrews purposely laid the filly up during the third and fourth heats in order to save her for the fifth. Others frankly and openly said: ‘The le filly is all in. Those two fast took everything out of her. She'll never beat that camel in the worl The camel being Alta Axworthy, according to the facetious. “Finally, the horses were called for the fifth heat of the big race. The classy field stepped on to the turf. They scored down a couple of times, Finally the veteran starter, Frank Walker, gave them the word. Bond, the idol of t d the jud firs ¥ s ic the crowd shout- hoarse and the band plarved a weil-nigh forgotten d. Was Bred in Old Kentu the Meadow Grass Is Blue. What caused Grace Bond's sudden revivication, a new glossiness in her black ceat, a fresh brightness in her eyes and a renewal of her speed that every@ody noticed? “For a jong time it was 2 secret. but the vell was eventually lifted by those ‘in Jn the know,’ as the turfites would s89. ns were des- e nd heat. The Futurity snust net be lost. The litle mare must be given some kind of & stimulant. “It was against turf laws to give her dope that would be fnjurious. They couldn't do that. Finally some gne’ whispered a word in Andrew’s “A quick order and a dash for the bar under the grandstand. “Five minutes later, with the mare’s head turned toward the feed box In the stall so that no one could see, she was given a quart of champagne— Mumm’s extra dry, we used to call it in the halcyon davs—and that was phat won the Kentucky Futurity in Flowers and Sugar. IT is reported that some interesting experiments have been made in a school of agriculture in prolonging the lives of cut flowers. One hun- dred different flowers were employed in the experiments and it was found that sugar helped to keep most of them fresh, but was injurious to lilies and sweet peas. It hastened thhe opening of roses and orchids, but did not affect tulips, daisies or chrys- anthemums. Experiments were made with small quantities of chloral. ether, glycer- in, alcohol, lime water and ammonia salts, each of which served to length- en the lives of various flowers. Some of the flowers kept in sugar and water lived four times as long as they ordinarily would. The sugar does not have an ex- actly equal effect on the different flowers it preserves. Carnations seem to like a 15 per cent solution, and roses do better in a solution of from 8 to 10 per cent. Brittany Sardines. ARDINES take their name from Sardinia, but of the sardines that come to the United States only a smal percentage come from the wa- ters that surround Sardinia. One of the large sardine fishing grounds is off the northwest coast of France, and the sardines of Brittany are famous. Perhaps more Brittany sar- dines are eaten in the United Statea than any other kind of imported sar- dines. Prices paid for Brittany sar- dines by French packers are high. Last season the fishermen obtained from 300 to 400 france per 100 kilos, a kilo (or kilogram) being approxi- mately two and & quarter pounds. This season the packers are paying the fishermen from 100 to 160 francs per kilo. The normal price before the war was 35 to 40 francs per kilo. @RTUNE TELLER.FINDS A LOST DIAMOND I BY RACHEL MACK. ‘WAS just finishin' my rolls and coffee—bein’ on a reduction dlet —and enjoyin' the sweet atmos- phere of my rose-hung boodour (which 1s exactly copied from a movie), when the door bell rings, Xatie stops her dustin’ and goes to answer it. Katie is the up-to-date little combination cook, lady’s maid and business adviser, that's been with me ever since I entered the fortune tellin’ profession some years &go. Pretty soon she hurries in, sayin' it's a swell young lady, awful wor: ried, and can she see me at once! I slips out of my kimona and speed: into @ Greek robe—the kind that Katle urges on me on account of its bein’ more professional and convincin® to the seekers of knowled, As soon ss I enters my office (called ) 1 see her—young and scared lookin’, sitting on the edge of one of my new. imitation leather chgirs and, twistin' her gloves like she would tear them to shreds. She was wearin’ @ heavy figured veil over her face, ahd another veil was thrown back over her little turban hat. She didn't want to be recognized, that was sure. “Well, dearle,” I says, real calm and | many. Tell me where it iV encouragin® like, “what can I do for you?" And I sits down opposite her. She gives a funny little sob and plunges right in like the water's pretty cold: “Oh,” she says, “I've lost a diamond drop from my mother's] necklace. There was a platinum claw loose, and I was. taking it to the jeweler's to be repaired. It was in the jewel pocket of my handbag, which fastens securely with a safety catch. On the way I met him—I—I mean, I met & friend, and had tea with him at—at the usual place—" It began to look like she wasn't going to be able to go on with the story, so I try a hand at helping her out: “And when you got to the jew- eler's, dearle, the diamond drop was Yea!™ she says, sort of breath- less. “It was gone, and he was the cnly_person 1 n the world who had|bhim a wrong in your touched the bag! While we were hav- ing tea he had examined the mono- gram on the strap—I remember it all plainly now! “Oh, tell me,” she begs, “that he did not take it! You have helped so “Girlie,” I says as gentle as possible, | for it looked like 8 bad case to me, “have you got the bag with you?” She says she has, and hands it over —real alligator, and as handsome a plece of leather as I ever saw, on the stage or off. I noticed the mono- gram in twisted silver letturs, out of the corner of my eve, and mude a guess—puttin’ two and two togeth She was the real. thing, alright. I open the b and start a_syste- matic trail, tryin' to seem and hopin’ against hope. Suddenly I spy a small rough place in the soft suede lining and I follow the clue with investigatin’ fingers. I feel a lit- tle lump between the two layers of leather. “Maybe, dearie,” I says, sort of mys- terious, “this doesn’t hl’fin to be a case for fortune tellin’. ould you be very. glad to find you had done mind?” | i1 “Oh,” she answers, “if I could only lay the blame somewhere else.” And [ see by the look in her eyes that thinkin' him a thief has made her spend fifteen hours in purgatory. 1 let her sit there in her misery a minute longer, while 1 t the lining around the rough place in the suede that the sharp, loose claw has worked through. Then I fished out the dia- mond. ’ I was afraid at first she was goin’ to raint, but she changed her mind and started weepin' instead. Before I knew it she had both arms around my neck, sheddin’ regl tears dJown the back of my Greek robe. Thinkin’ it might help he- nerves some to get back to earth, I says: “There, there, girlie! Ten doliars for professional services!"” Then she laughs and runs to the mirror and fixes the two veils back in place. She presses a bill in my hand and hurries out like she's walk- in' on air, wavin’ to me from the elevator as happy as & child on a holi- And when I remember to examine the bill, it ‘Fifty dollars” in plain English. "= 7 = (Oopyright, 1920, Thompeon Feature Bervice.)