Evening Star Newspaper, November 20, 1921, Page 70

i THE SUNDAY BTAR, WASHINGTON, D. O, NOVEMBER 20, 1921-PART 4. A Thrilling Tale From the Pen of H. Hesketh Prichard MEMBER OF CONGRESS ) THE DAUGHTER OF DON Q. . ON Q. sat in his cave. For'a long time nothing of note bad happened in the slerra, and it was at such perlods that ennui .grew upon the great brigand. He was sitting over his fire, touch- ing occasionally the strings of his guitar, for music was always a great solsce to him: Indeed at timee he would chant in his sibilant voice songs of old Spain and its long dead glories. He had always given strict orders that none was to interrupt him while he made music. It was, therefore, with an eye bright with anger that he turned toward the sound of scuffing and of voices, ‘which evidently came from the nar- Tow path to his cave. “T tell you,” said a voice, that of a woman, “that I must see my lord at once” “It cannot be” replied another voice, this time a man’s, that of Gaspar. “My lord plays upon the guitar.” On this there followed sounds of a struggle. Don Q. went to the door of the cave. “Gaspar, did I not recognize your volce? said he. “It is not my fault, lord. She would come here, and though old, she is as cunning as a pine-marten and fights like a wild cat. Hold her, Gregorio, hold her!” But it was too late. The woman had broken from the bandits and run past Don Q. into the cave. “I mu see you, my lord,” she painted. “T am Marta, old Marta." As he recognized her, Don Q.'s face grew pale. “Rest assured, Marta,” sald he, “that I will listen to what you ha to say, but first—Gaspar! Gregorio he called. The two bandits presented them- selves. Don Q. looked them over with his bleak, unfriendly stare, while they shifted from one leg to the other. “What were my orders?" said he. “Did I not say that I was not to be disturbed?” “Yes, my lord, but—" Don Q. held up his hand. “In the mountains there are no excuses.” Don Q. turned and once again sat down before the fire of pine logs. “And now, Marta,” said he, “you ‘will tell me to what I owe this visit.” * ok ok * “ HE old woman—for she looked old, though -she was not more than fifty years of age—had thrown back her mantilla, exposing her crag- &y and wrinkled face. “My lord,” she cried, “a terrible thing has happened.” ‘Dona Nieves, is she dead?” ques- tioned Don Q. “No, lord, no, she flourishes, bu! The relaxation of his muscles showed the strain of anxiety through . which Don Q. had passed. “Then,” saild he, “you will tell me in as few words as possible what is this terrible thing that has hap- pened.” “Yes, lord, yes. I have said how the oung caballeros cluster around her. i’hl\‘a reported it to my lord in the letter I write each month. Does my lord remember the names of two of them—one_the Count of Polema, and the other Don Jaime de Ral”" “Yes, Marta, I have noted those names. There have been Counts of Polema since the days of Philip the Second. and the blood of the de Rals t least as ’rfu back. What of ese young men?’ L “It ’1’! !:lt she is too beautiful. | ‘Where are the brightest stars when the moon swims up into the sky? It is that these two caballeros have be- come importunate. The other night, on Friday night, both of them, one after the other, begged to find favor in her eyes and she answered them- oh, my lord, she answered them— “what did she answer them?” “They told her all that they had to offer the ancient names, the rich lands, the broad vegas. the countless herds of black bulls—thus the Count de Polema—Don Jaime talked of his mines from which each day a thou- sand men dig up his wealth. But for all this Dona Nieves cared nothing. She said that in these modern days men think more of wealth and of po- sition than of honor, of deeds, and of fame, and she said that knighthood was dead in modern Spain, and that #he would marry no man who had not done a worthy deed. Then these two , said that there were no great deeds left to accomplish and then, my lord, it was that my mistress Dona Nieves said the dreadful words that 1 must; o™ e o what_were these dreadful ‘words. Mar! " he asked. “She sald, let any who sought her ki1l Don Q. and then she would speak with him again. To each one sepa- rately she said it, for they spoke to her within an hour of each other, and by night it had been whispered abroad through Seville that the road to the heart of Dona Nieves lay through the Il:eu; log you, my lord— ‘you who are her father! ¥ At the words Don Q. sprang to the opening of the cave and looked out. The night was still, and the brigands lay around their fires. Reassured, he ed. oA ta!" said he, “twenty years ago you swore not only to me but to her . mother, who bore my name, that :name which only you and I in all the /world know was once mine; you swore that you would forget that between her and Don Q. there existed , any and now you have broken our oath.” i “Forgive me, lord; forgive me, but ' this is indeed 2 fearful thing. These ‘men are strong, and there is that in her eyes which would drive the least brave of them to terrible actions for her sake.” Tt was on the second day after Marta had brought her news into the mountains, and had renewed her oath of secrecy in such manner and under such circumstances as insured that never would she break it, that Grulla, watching at the lower escarp- ments, beheld far below him a man upon a horse toiling upward. Grulla had been provided by Don Q. with an excellent Ross telescope. and with this the bandit soon made out that the stranger was of the aristocrat and that from his costume he purposed a journey through the mlerra. Grulla’s course of action was obvious. He at once descended, and meeting the rider at the posada, where he was drinking 2 cup of mountain chocolate, descanted upon his own personal skill as a guide. After some inquiries, he was en- ®aged, and the same night he con- sclentiously led Don Jaime de Ral (for it was he) into an ambu: * X x x BY the next evening the prisoner was in the glen of the Boca de Lobo. As he sat by the camp fire, his eyes released from his own tightly knotted handkerchief, he became aware of another procession of men! similar to that of which he hlm!el!l had just been the central figure rging into the retreat of the ban- :l?tl:.‘A‘mong them walked a man with bandaged eyes, and, when the bandages were removed, he was sur- prised beyond words to recognize by the light of the fires the dark and handsome features of the Count of Polema. At the same moment Polema caught sight of Don Jaime, and uttered a loud exclamation. The handsome fellow who was his escort turned upon him. “Silence!” Polema was not & man of cool . and betrayed it. “""‘smne.!" again commanded the “Men do not speak here in the mountains without the orders of my lord,” sald the man, who happened to be Robledo. At the end of half an hour both prisoners were led by the narrow 0 the cave into the presence of Don Q. Although the weather had turned warmer, they found the bandit sitting huddled in his cloak over a mfi.m wood. He rose and sa- luted them in his usual punctilious manner. “Ah, gentlemen™ said Re, “this is an unexpected joy. for a very lonely Shall we s: dollars apiece? When this sum is paid, senores, you will be free.” cried Polema, and paused. perhaps a rel ly seven days should have passed without incident. clearly they were engaged in tempting to take each other’s Ii haps you will be so good as to explain why you were fightl . ‘woman, u{ sald Doa with an odd flicker of his nstlldl. sajd Don Jaime, man. Few friends seek me here in the mountains.” “We hardly count ourselves friends,” replied Polema, in his suave- 1y insolent voice. “Yet you are here,” sald Don Q. softly. “Not altogether of our ewn will,’ put in Don Jaime, with a laugh. “I do not know how it was with the count, but I was ambushed in the foothills.” “Indeed! then my men must have been patrolling lower than usual.” “As for me, 1 was staying for the night at the posada of the Three Rats,” said Polema bitterly, “when a man came in for a cup of wine. He had with him the head and horns of a magnificent ibex. In reply to my questions he informed me that there were several rams with heads as good on the eastern side of Sabio Blanco. He offered to guide me." “THERE,” SAID HE, “VANISHES FOREVER THE DANGER WHICH THREATENED DONA NIEVES.” said Don Q. “you are the nteenth.” ‘What?" “I mean that sixteen caballeros be- fore you have been decoyed here by my good Robledo with the bait of that very ibex head. It is indeed a fine one. The right horn measures 38% inches along the curve, the left alas! is a trifle less. I know, for as a matter of fact I shot the animal myself seven years ago next Febru- ary.” These details were received by Don Jaime with amusement, but Polema held to a sullen silence, and Don Q. continued: said de Ral s “As these days g0, V! held to his sullen silence. “I do not think it will be a hard- ship,” said ,Don Q.. “if I put down vour ransafns at the same figure. one hundred thousand “A hundred _thousand dollars “and to be paid within " 1 will arrange for a essenger to depart for Seville with- m. in a couple of hours. He will take with him the letters which vou Willignother figure comes into the story. and one which had no small part in its denouement. write explaining your unfortunate predicament. And now, senores, all this necessarily been so happily arranged between us, I beg that you will both consider vourselves my guests, and I trust that you will enjoy your stay in the mountains. You will give me your sordid detail having where a couple of my men will guard you. Have I your promise?" hold all the cards, senor. I submit,” said he. Jaime spoke. “As soon as we free, count” said he, bowing, “we shall do ourselves the honor of re- suming our interrupted duel.” sald Polema. away in the Boca de Lobo. Between Don Q. and one of his prisoners at any rate there was no love lost. Many < a man before Polema had been Don “It is quite clear, is it not, that|Q's guest in that cave. Some he had both of you caballeros have been the |ljked: others he had endured; but victims of the enterprise of my men. Good. Now let us_get to business. You are both rich, I believe?” there was something about his latest captive which caused Don Qs gorge to rise—in fact, he found himgelf on many__occasions _sincerel 13 with a laugh and a shrug, but Polema | that” Polema's. ransom would fan o arrive. Polema, on the other hand, had retreated from his earlier attl: tude of rather sullen agrogance, and had substituted for it a kind of fur- tive politeness which was intensely galling. As to Don Jaime, he found favor in Don Q.'s sight. There was lqu‘c_vmq lthou‘:h of gay spontaneity about ie w re.ihim that appealed to the brigand. A Bundeed thoussnd dollars K& :who always liked a gallant man. fifteen day allowed ei=nts to work themselves out along their own lines can never be told, but it so happened that here prisoners, seeing there wi of escape, were allowed to do) and paroles. of course.” “Pparole?” questioned Don Jaime. “Yes, you will give me your word that you will not make any attempt to escape, rm an :;Il wu{l!d be out of keeping with your position as my guest.” or for that matter to per- act while you are with me The count shrugged his shoulders and quoted the Spanish proverb. “Needs must.” sald he, n between the sword and the wall. i “when one is “] am infinitely indebted to you, senor.” sald Don Jaime. “and T have the honor to give you my parole. * Kk K K JCH were the circumstances in U S which this strange party of three assembled in the mountains, and it is markable fact that near- There was the usual round of _the brigand camp, and in the evening Don Q. would play cards with his visitors. or ten days, and down the guiti a sweet voice. fays passed. W pened which bearing upon the sequel. tell them tales of forgot- a sometimes he even took ar, for Don Jaime had Thus, as 1 say, seven hen an _incident hap- was to have its own It was about 5 o'clock in the even- . and Don Q. had gone ‘forth ::s\'hdt his sentinels who were set at advantageous Spots around the brigand camp. From these they watched for the signals of the sec. ond line of sentries, who were placed Jower down the mountain, and these again in their turn watched for the signals of the outposts. about that it an event occurred far down In the foothills news of it could be telegraphed up to the Boca de Lobo within a few minutes. ‘Thus it came It was a wild evening as Don Q. returned from his rounds and once more entered the cave, which was lit by the leaping flames of the fire and the light of two rushlights set one at either end. As he entered he was aware that both Don Jaime and the count were on_their feet, and, each of them armed with a knife, were circling round one another. Most - Don Q. advanced swiftly. “Se- he cried. “What does this ? Put down those knives!" on Jaime stretched acros hand to obey, when at the same mo- ment Polema stabbed at him. Only Don Q.'s quickness saved the situation, for he seized the count's wrist in'a grasp of iron. “You heard my order?” he cried. “Your blow was & foul on Men have died here in the mountains for less.” ‘With an_effort Polema recovered “I heard nothin or,” “I did not know you were “And now, senores,” said h ng. " said Polema. Don “It was & duel Q. _looked toward Don"Jaim J e. ~And is it permitted to ask about ha ™ what you may have quarel “What do men usuall [uarrel about?’ ssked P°,’."“1. with & smile. e perha; “For my part,” he would often go, to fall, to the patch, of wind-blown pines that stood upon its eastern rim. One evening he had wzndered up and sat down with his back to & pine tree, and was rolling a cigarette when a volce spoke, as it seemed, at his side. the sound; and was aware of & man lying at full length in the scrub. you not ' recognize me?” said the man slightly lifting his bearded must be swift. Were I found here, my lord count knows what would happen.” tinued. employed me as a ganadero with his bull herds until—" when you had the misfortune to steal from me—you who were in a position of trust—and then you fled into the mountains.” I wish to go bacl tains, and to be a rich man in the plains. I have a secret which my lord count woul wealth to know. If my lord count will promise me that he will forget my theft, and will pay me 5,000 pe- setas 1 will tell him.” There must be something in the man’'s story, since he had run so grave a risk in meeting him. worth them, yes.” days, before my lord was captured, - |an old wom mountains. Her name is Marta. heard some of the words—not many —but some.” :.lu name of one Dona Nieves, and I zour daughter.’ Then my lord Don looked out, Hut hie did not see me, for I _had crawled into the shadow.” ments. At length he spoke. pesetas, but ten th You must go down the mountains. You must carry a letter for me to my major domo at Las you do this?” ‘WAl 1) But the letter—ca: ‘ sive it me at onoe in minutes?” b.::ll to write. At length h o “Ijwhat he Lad writtea ia aa envalope, had the misfortune to quarrel with the count because I do not like the scent which he us So far as I am concerned, that y_grievance.” on Q. bowed to Don Jaime. *“I pérceive,” said he, “that you are true caballero. But enough of th senores. While you are my here you will do me the kindn to attack each other, for if one :; you were kille¢ I should not be able e tha {l:d had n‘ h;nd In his death! ts: ere must e no more fighting. Hn;eh I! your promises?”’ Shies “That seems fair,” said Don Jaime, but Polema replied, “If I l‘llll‘."m’t will happen?” “That is quite simple. You lodged in that :lrnw?coveud h:t“lhbn: you see on the other side of the fires, Polema gave a sour smile. “You se. ‘Then Don re There was a P “Certainly, 1 shall be delighted,” And now the days passed steadily ‘What would have occurred had fate « s e T was Polema's custom to wander about in the Boca de Lobo (as all no chance evening began *“My lord count!” said the volce. Polems looked in the direction of ‘What are you doing here?’ satd iwaiting your coming.” ‘Who are you?" “Do s’ = ‘And what do you want of me?” “I wish to make a bargain. But we Polema nodded, and the man con- “My lord count remembers how he “Until the fiesta of Todos Santos, my lord, but now from the moun- “That 1s all true give half his Poléema blew a smoke ring or two. “Well, tell me this secret.” “Does my lord promise me the the things that I have asked?” “If what you have to tell me is “It is worth more. Two or three came up here into the “Marta!” said Polema sharply. “Yes.’ “And what did she do here?” “She spoke with my lord Don Q. I “What words did you hear?” “[ heard your name, my lord, and eard old Marta cry out the words ran to the door of the cave and Polema was silent for somre mo- “You shall have not flve thousand d,” sald he, scape. ‘'on one condition. Neuvas. Can “Yes, for tomorrow it is my turn to tch the foothills. The rest is easy. out a pocketbook and Dlaced R PLCEREE “here is the You will deliver it as I say.’ He slipped the document across into It was addressed to and on the outside was written, “If I do not return with- in fifteen days, open and act.” sald Pedro, “go, for all is settled, and there is no more need of words." S b The next few days were, for the! Count of Polema, a period of waiting. His one aim was to discover whether Pedro Agachona had really escaped. Until he knew this he could do noth- ing, and as it happened it was Don Q. himself who supplied the necessary information. All three were sitting one evening the conversation had turned curiously enough upon ingratitude, when Don Q. sald, “Would you believe ever service you may do a man—or at least a man such as these,” he waved his hand toward the fires around which the brigands congre- “it_will make no impression | ‘These men have no grati- his major domo, after dinner, that what- “Indeed!” said Polema. continued Don me fleeing from and ready to take any oath, and then they are just as ready to break it. ‘Why, since you have been here, one has deserted—a fellow., count, who was once in your Pedro is his name. though his comrades usually call him Aga- chona, which means ‘the snipe.’ Three days ago he did not patrol in the foothills. Polema suddenly leaned across the eturn from his escaped. May I beg for a few m ments with you in private, senor? Don Jaime rose from the table, bowed, and wandered out into ti southern dusk. “I am all attention.,” said Don Q. “You will perhaps tell me why you wish to speak with me alone.” said Polema. inform you that I intend to leave this place tomorrow at dawn. “What does this “It means that whereas up to now you have been master here, you are ter no longer.” “This is a ver: id Don - “I wish to i N endless chain of visitors A swarmed over Dewey's flag- y bad joke, senor.” am waiting for you I tell you that I 1 knew that Ped: Agachona was going to escape, and he carried for me a letter down the mountains. That letter he has ha: to one of my representatives—never I have many. outside of it is written, “If I do not re- turn within fifteen days, open and Do you know what is in that letter, senor?” “There _must be something in it in the efficacy of which you believe very thoroughly, count, or you would hardly forget yourself so far as to But what is it?” “The mere statement of the rela- and Dona to_explain it “T do not joke. am master here. “This_enemy of man will soon be mind which. speak like this. tionship between N Q. leaped to his feet and his instinctively sought weapon, but Polema sald smiling, “If you kill me, do not forget what will happen. Next Saturday the whole of Spain will know your secret.” “And suppose I do let you go to- morrow — what |Th. chalk-cheese man seconded the obtain possession of the letter again,” said Polema. “And when you have done so, senor,” said Don i1s my wish to warry Donna Afterward I will destroy that er. ‘And if she is unwilling?” ‘In the face of what I know. I do Don Q. was a man of instant de- He glanced at Polema with a curious flickering of the eyelids which might have been a warning to any one who knew him woll. “You are at liberty to ‘morrow morning,” said h A little later Don Q. Jaime were talking together out in the soft Spanish night. Polema had gone to make his preparations for his departure. . “Senor,” said Don Q. °T am gol to ask you a strange question.” *“Yes?' sald Don Jaime. “When you and the count fou what was the real cause of Don Jaime patsed a moment before “T do not think I can answer that,” he said at length. “Se: id Do sal n o in the sh have known me, you recognise that I do nof ynn. sary As to your duel, I know the reason why you fought. You see, the count is not so reticent as you sare L the name of “I_am sure rt space you th: taking responsibility for what 1s Donna Nieves to you? I|passage, he threw open the door. me, do_not ask without a reason.” “She is a lady whom I would go any length to serve,” sald Don Jaiwe sra “She is threatened,” said Don Q. “by & very great danger, and the question is this: Are you willing to strike & blow In her behalf?” “Willing and ready.” said Don Jaime with a smile, “for, indeed, it does not seem to me that the world is ?ll enough to hold both the Count of “That 1 cannot tell you, said Don Q. “You must take my word that it exists. And now, senor, sleep well, for it may be that there are strenu- ous days in front of us” Next morning Count Polema left the glen at daylight. He was to be accompanied over the first stages of his journey down the mountains by Robledo as gulde. Robledo’s orders were to take the count within s of the village of Encierro, wher: would be easy enough for him to get a mountaineer to guide him into the plains. But the village of Enclerro, even when one starts at dawn, is a very long da; travel from the Boca de Lobo, and dark had already fallen when Robledo pointed out some wink- ing lights, and then without a word turned and began to lead the mule once more up into the mountains. Polema walked forward on fool until he entered the outskirts of the wild hill village. He was quite un- aware that Robledo, his late com- panion, having tied up the mule, had followed him down_until he entered the single street. Hére Polema was shown to the house of the local priest, where he passed the night. The next d e continued his Journey, now guided by a villager. Several times as they rode down- ward' they passed single travelers winding their way upward. At last the count reached a small wayside railway station, and pushing his way through the sellers of oranges and cigarettes, climbed upon the train which by good luck was in the sta- tion. He tra was quite unaware of two wild look- Ing charcoal burners who traveled in the nearest third. These charcoal burners, however, took a quite undue interest in his movements. Indeed. it is safe to say that at no period was Polema out of sight of these two charcoal burners from the moment he left Enclerro until he arrived in the neighborhood of Las Neuvas, the headquarters of his farm. not far from the great yellow stream of the Quadalquiver. Here Polema arrived in the middle of the afternoon. It was a profes- sional wild fowler who made his liv- ing by shooting ducks from behind a stalking horse. who saw him enter the house. and it was he who sent back word along the train of com- munication to where Don Q. was waiting. It was 11 o'clock when, through a night of clear starlight, two men made their way iInto the great court- yard of Las Neuvas. The great bull farm. though it waa surrounded with innumerable out- buildings, consisted of a compara- tively small living house, built of sun-baked brick. As the two approached a figure rose up out of the shadows. “Well, Grulla " said the voice of Don Q. ““The count is within,” said Grulla. “Who is with him?" “‘“There is the major domo, Don Jose.” “Good,” sald Don Q., and turned to his companion. “Come,” he added, and they went toward the door of the building. Round most Spanish farms at night numbers of podencos, or hunting dogs, { Jaime parted. prowl, but curiously enough there was no sound of warning as Don Q. and Don Jalme approached the door. “Now.” said Don Q., “it is for you to demand to see the count. Don Jaime knocked heavily upon the do:r'.( It was the major domo who ed it. ‘I wish to see the Count of Polema,” | satd Don Jaime. The count was sitting smoking in a cane-bottomed chalr. “Good evening, my dear count,” sald Don Q. "I trust that you had an enjoyable journey down the woun- tains?” ‘The count sprang to his feet. “May I ask why you have done me the honor to visit me?” “It is not I who sought this visit,” said Don Q. “but Don Jaime here. I come merely as his friend. You will remember, my dear count, that interrupted duel? Don Jaime is most eager to continue {t."” “I shall be happy to meet Don Jaime under proper, conditions and with proper seconds.” “The conditions will suffice,” said Q., “the duel will be finished here and now.” “You fool!” cried Polema. “Are you aware that I have five-and- twenty men sleeping within call and that I need only to raise my voice to summon them?" If that is so,” said Don Q. “why not do it?” “Ohe! Ohe!” cried Count Polema. “Miguel! Basc Montes ‘There was no answer. “Now let me try in my turn,” said Don Q. and he clapped his hands smartly. In a moment Gaspar and Robledo were in_the room. “I think you have met these two charming fellows before,” said Don Q., “during your stay in our moun- tains.” Then turning to Robledo: “You have secured all the count’s men?” he questioned. “Yes, lord,” said Robledo. “You wlill stay, Robledo, and you, Gaspar, also,” said Don Q. “The count and Don Jaime here are about to fight and four witnesses will be more correct than two.” “We have no weapons,” cried the count. Don Q. immediately placed upon the table a pair of foils which he drew from under his cloak. “There are the weapons,” said he, “and for the rest, should you be so fortunate as to overcome Don Jaime, 1 shall inform you of my name and lineage, and then you will have to deal with me. Come! Time presses!” It made a strange scene, that fight fought by the light of four tallow dips set in the corners of the lofty room. The swords crossed, and for some moments the struggle raged without advantage to either combat- ant. In that fight it almost seemed as if the characters of the two men stood out in relief, for whereas Po- lema seemed to be maneuvering to get the light into the eyes of his opponent, Don Jaime fenced with freedom and dash for an instant de- cision. Nor was it long in comin for suddenly, before the spectato could realize it, one of Don Jaime's lunges went home and Polema fell to the ground. His second, Don Jose, sprang to his side. “Right through the throat,” said he. “He is quite dead.” . Robledo and Gaspar conducted Don Jose from the room and then, and not till then, Don Q. went across to the body of the count. From the left breast pocket he drew out a let- ter, glanced at it, tore it open, read what was written, and next. lighting the paper at one of the tallow dips, he allowed it to burn. Then crum- pling the black sheet in his hand, he turned to Don Jaime, who was clean- ing his sword. ““There.” said he, “vanishes for ever the danger which threatened Dona Nieves. As to you, senor, I think you will be wise to leave our beautiful Spain for a little period.” “1 shall do so," said Don Jaime. Half an hour later, Don Q. and Don Don Jaime was about to board one of those sailing vessels which ply between Seville and San Lucar, and which happened to be moored against the bank, as, indeed, they always are during the night ti e. Farewell, Don Jaime,” “Have you any money?" " said Don Jaime. “Then permit me to hand back “He is not here,” answered the|Your ransom; it will be useful to you major domo. At these words Don Q. slipped out of the shadows. “You will be s0 good as to lead us to him at once™ he sald. The major domo recolled with a gasp. in getting out of the country. You are a man after my own heart, Don Jaime, and may the blessings of all the saints go with you.” There was a pause. “Will you not tell me now,” said “Ah!" said Don Q. “I see that you,Don Jaime at length, “what was the recognize me, my good Don Jose, |danger that threatened Dona Nieves which is all the better, since you are now aware that subterfuges are of |Count of Polema no use. Lead us to the count.” * ¥ ¥ % “Certainly,” sajd Don Q. “The ‘as the danger, but he exists no longer.” Then, without a further word, Don Q. turned and, followed by his men, DO.\Y JOSE licked his dry lips, and |get his face toward the hills. walking in front along the paved (Copyright. 1921.) | AROUND THE CITY | ship as she lay at the navy yard dock last Saturday after- noon. The sailors were kindly hosts, and ome youngster—white as a marshmallow in the matter of uni- form and a face joyous with youth helped out by life on the ocean blue— extended hospitality so far as to un- cover a cannon and turn a crank to show how it went off when fired. Two men who happened up while the de: onstration was going on were indi vidually interested in the gray mon- ster, though their views differed as the traditional chalk differs from the traditional cheese. at the bottom of the sea, sir. Such is my confidence in the parley that I am satisfled it will lead to immedi- ate and everlasting peace.” “I'm afraid, friend, your confidence is in for 2 bump. If we ever do have peace it will come through the league of nations. The way I look at it- And while they shuttlecocked argu- ments the sailor covered the cannon with the care of a mother who does that same for her baby, folded his arms and smiled until he was caught in the talk: “What is your belief, son?” The request came from the man who had “sponsored the millennium. question. - The boy's face took on al “careful” expression: “Peace will fine, if we get it, but until we do you couldn’t find a better friend than this one,” and he patted the cannon. You might merely consider this safe and sane concession to both questioners as_the outcome of one who had no definite idea on the sub- Ject, unless it should occur to you that not even the scriptural sage who advocated being all things to all men could have framed a more subtle reply. s To stand out for a conviction is just ordinary truth. To cover your tracks 50 as to seem to belong to two sides either is diplomacy. And it is di- plomacy of the inscrutablest kind that must guide a sailor boy who wants to keep out of a fuss. ‘Which shows the worldly superior- ity of diplomacy to the lady who lives at the bottom of the well. * X K K THE jewel department of Aladdin’s cave had nothing in the way of shine on Columbia’s necklace as rain- bow searchlights played on it the last night of the illumination. The crowd was quiet—you notice how quiet crowds are these times?—but in the shifting masses in a darkness intensified by the concentrated radi- ance, parties were apt to lose each other—with this case for illustratio) There were three of them to start with, two women and a man. d at the point where the man mislaid his companions he called out with im- pulsive disregard to convention “Nellle!” And a strange man on the side chirped in confabbily: “Seeing Nellle Home?"" The reminder of the old song caused the lost one a chuc- to pause for kling remark that it didn’t look much like it. Then the other man joined had s good' little chuckle together—which isn't much to tell about, unless you know what in, and the two a good chuckle means. * % ¥ % for making helmets. And the little union grew and grew, like the song- peach on dear Hub Smith's tree. When armistice came along they changed into & housekeepers’ club for spreading wisdom as to the upkeep of the home. Then the president moved into an apartment, the secre- tary bought a player-piano and a Wwhole lot of ordinary members went in for phonographs, which evoluted them into a “study hour,” with music for its motif. And now that they have added literature on the side, the time has come to call it a salon. So it is a salon, and: The other night they invited a woman with two letters tagging after her name to tell them exactly what books they should select for the five- foot shelf that is to serve as a mental cafeteria from which each member may help herself to knowledge. Be- ing one wily woman, she played safe by advising the Bible, Shakespeare, Webster's dictionary, and o on. _And, after a rising vote of thanks, refresh- [ERED war-time women banded L their knitting bags into a union ments were served and everything was perfectly lovely, as long as it lasted, which was precisely one-half minute after the speaker had gone. A “discussion” is a highly satis- factory feature of an amateur club. In this case it allowed each member to mention how much better a shelf she could have selected her own and as there were “quite a few' among those present, there were planks enough to have fitted out double the closets you get in the official six rooms and bath—which is an idiotic thihg to say, besides sounding as if the women were deceitful, which they were not. They were simply objecting, as many schol- arly others who elect to make thelr own literary shelves have been ob- Jecting ever since the doctor set up the first one. Nobody can be ex- pected to be entirely satisfled with another body's dictum, for the reason that no two minds are alike any more than any two faces—from humans to sheep. Anyhow, the salon wasn't satisfied, 80 it took a psychological pill and mo- tioned the dullest member—the one who made her helmets lopsided—to report on a shelf next month. And there's no telling what will happen, except the one sure thing that all the others will feel within themselves that they could have done it better, and maybe they will up and say so! And you couldn’t blame them if you had heard the dullard saying to an- other woman after she got home to belated bananas and cream: “I couldn’t suit 'em if I picked every blossom of literature from Adam's apple orchard to Ziegfeld's garden of me. The only selection that could be safely relied on to hold down the attention of book shelvers would be, say, ‘Memoirs of the Man in the Moor'—the sun, of _course, could chronicle everyday affairs, but the moon knows the secrets of the night, and it is mystery that s head- lines; 'History of tha Red World,’ by Mars, with = special chapter to ex- plain why it is, since Martians are eons ahead of us in civilization, they haven't let down a string with a ‘message tied to it instead of leaving the Columbus act to us; ‘Reminis- cence,’ by the Still Small Voice of Conscience, and the gossip of “Waters That Talk as They Flow,’ edited by Neptune, would be generally inter- esting, and a long-distance record of the words that the ‘Morning Stars Sing Tofe_ther.’ would appeal to——" ‘Then the other woman shut her up. And that was the end of that. NANNIB et e b TREATS “SICK” CITIES - NAT, Puo”‘ REPRESENTATIVE DANIEL ALDEN REED OF NEW YORK, he only “city dector” im tion of education. civie, commercial HERE is n o E is one—and only one—|. g jngustrial activities. He had t city doctor in Congress. Hel co-operation is recognized as an expert andlas well artist in directing communi-|% ties in the pathway that leads to a bigger, better, brighter, busier future. He has practiced this profession—cur- ills—In practically every state in the Union. In spite of being one of the busiest men in Congress, and devoted to the interests of his home district, this man is in demand an adviser and speaker before educational and in- dustrial associations to such an extent that he has to decline two-thirds of ali the appeals he receives. This city doctor is Representative’ Daniel Allen Reed, republican of Dun- kirk, N, Y., and to read his biography in the Congressional Directory no one would suspect thut he is one of the most noted civic organizers in the world. Civic and industrial leaders coming to Washington, however, from the places where he administered his | to! prescribed and kept his fingers on the public pulse until it beat healthily and vigorously, him credit for spreading a new spirit of zeal, progress and co-operation as journeyed here and through ihe United States. Unlike most reformers—and Reed is not a reformer or uplifter—he be- gan his work of charity at home, improvements and bringing new helpful agencies into p home town of Dunkirk, the backing of manufacture zens generally. Whi ing their improvem dollars, had a city plan adopted. and a fifty-acre The way the people of that con ppreciated his labors am as shown when t and urged ht to the theater with them 1o b strenuous day and preferred the cc (forts of home with his family noted practically all leading citizens in boxes and in the orchestra seats. went up ke could not believe his eyes On the stage was the lates one of the best factured, and seated wife ang two children, whom he h: waving to him. car was a gift of appreciation the friends whom he working among them as a—city doc- the curtain autemobiles m: nu- r. After three years in this work, all the time maintaining Dunkirk, N. - home district decided the sort of man who ought to help that he was plans for the entire country, so they elected him majority, and then re- more than 40,000. Since he came to Congress he has been more in demand than ever as i speaker and in an advisory capacity throughout the account of his congressional dut which he takes very seriously, ¢ sidering his first duty is to the ho entire country ‘HROUGHOUT his entire forty-six years “Dan” Reed has been “in| foiks, who sent him training,” keeping himself fit for a| man’s work in the world and to help make' his native land a better place He first came into accept only a limited number of si However, he s in five or six a mon this month he is to with clvic leaders it Reading, P in which to live. prominence at Cornell where he was on the foot ball team 1897 and 1898, and was one of the best players of his day. Col. “Joe” Beacham, now stationed at the | as a civic organizer: but a sense Army War College, was captain of | the '96 team and one of the greatest. halfbacks of that time, and so chosen by Walter Camp and public opinion. Reed played guard, and those were the days when the guards played pack and took a very active part in Sdvancing the ball. He played oppo- site such famous players as and other place is_at considerable sacrifice that Representative Reecd in Congress — from i financial point of view, can command a muc obligation, duty and satisfaction the work of Congress as one of t best ways in which a man can ser his country keeps him here. is recognized as one of the rral experts in this line of promotion work and has the support Edwards of New York and|jargest manufacturers in the country. In spite of the fact that he { them in the bluntest kind of lan- guage when he thinks they are mak- ing mistakes and what they should He spoke thus frankly to then recently at a conference of the United Industries of the State of New. discussing the tance of housing and providing gor living and recreational facilities, emphasized suring living and recreational facil ties comparable to American stand- ards of living was the surest way {o cure the turnover is one of the biggest industrial haz- Bemis Pierce, the Indian. He played hard, fast, but clean. Reed—that's how he's best known from the Atlantic to the Pa- cific and from the Canadian border to the Gulf of Mexico—coached the line for fifteen years. He also coached Penn State, and while on that job took the since-famous “Mother” Dunn as a green man and made him into an All-American cen- ter. He coached Cornell the first year it beat Penn State, and the only team that beat Cornell while he was coach 1901 was Princeton, at Syracuse, by a score While at Cornell Reed was heavy- weight wrestler and never lost a match. He also threw the hammer some and rowed on the crew under Courtney. Here's the big point about his college career: athletics while standing high in his classwork and Representative that the labor turnover at several a community would pay for all the improvements called for by his prescription. And he insists when talking to the manu- facturers that this is only fair to That the manufacturers take this in a good spirit is shown by the fact that he has been called to Day- ton, Ohio, three times within a vear for conferences on contemplated im- provements. This appreciation of his work is not Representative Reed’s own version by any means, because, while he is in- tensely interested in it, and thinks it is_one that can command the best talent of any upstanding American, he seldom talks about it and few of his colleagues even realize thst specialist along_these lines is sitting Public opinfon in the communities where he has worked and accomplished has these appreciations in newspaper edi- in the indorsements of leading men_who have come here to Reed to come back and These include working his waiting on table, clothes, working in a bookstore nd even running a boarding house. After finishing at Cornell e for twelve years. So well as a city doc- tor. For five years he was an attor- for the state of New York. Then indulged himself in the work for which he had been fitting himself— civic betterment. He started in at home town by improving the parks, playgrounds schools and in other ways too numer- ous to mention, so that the home ople swear by him and will follow js lead in any public mal ‘He was drawn into practiced law he is_a lawyer as work of ad- the best method ing themselves for civic, d industrial expansion. labor in New Eng- and the ultimate sick calls is too but here are some of show the scope of his and active, personal co- those who were striv- thelr eommunlll;s he&l{e“': , N. Y.; Hasieton, oo, T Jl.ck-onvillet. Fl;.Ol?lk- F ., Okla.; Youngstown, Ohio; i ; Manistee, Mich.; Flint, and Auburn, Me. In all of these others he wat tion work fol Here is one partic tke sort of service he performed: among them. of organiz commercial an: This called him to land. the far Wi south. His list long to recoun them, just to ministrations operation wi girls, any more than they could suit|ing torials and help them some more. men like F. A. Aldrich, secretary, and J. D. Dort, president, of the Dort Motor Company; Leonard Freeman, president of the Freeman Dairy Company, t, Mich., and Edward Vaught, pres- ident of the chamber of commerce of Oklahoma City. Representative Reed has no fixed lan_of ten commandments or e! atitudes or anything of that sort to be preached and applied generally to cities that meed a little spiritual rejuvenation. He works with the communrities that want to improve themselves, studying each locality in- applying _whatever corrective measures are best fitted to that particular place and the local needs, not only of today, but also for Pontiac, Mich. places and scores of doing special organiza~ r civic improvemént. ular illustration of BOUT 1915 he was called to the|dividually and city of Flint, Mich., to undertake a solution of the givic, commercial and industrial problems that had sprung up by reason of the rapid de- velopment of the automobile indus- bult. of his survey and recommendations the community pro- vided him with a fund of $10,000 a hich was later voluntarily in to $50,000 & year, for promo- But Dan Reed does establish one which he sets forth everywhero he “No man is worth cial, civic, spiritual and industriay ng of the community in which e