Evening Star Newspaper, July 2, 1922, Page 58

~ THE SUNDAY STAR, WA rg ™ WASHINGTON, A MYSTERY OFFICIALLY REMAINS UNSOLVED. SECRET OF THE MISSING BRIDE | T HE secret of Joan Wharncliffe, aged twenty-two, who had not been married a week, was per- haps one of the most jeal- ously guarded that I have ever known. My own connection with the affalr—of which I know that many different versions have been told, all of them wrong—came about in a rather curious way. 1 happened to be staying with an elderly aunt who lives just outside the pleasant little town of Helmaley. in Yorkshire. between Pilmoor and Malton, and who, having lived there for twenty veats, had naturally many friends in the neighborhood. One of the most intimate was a widow named Calvert, who lived with her daughter Joan at Heddon Manor, about a mile and a half away. When on visits to my aunt 1 frequently called upon Mrs. Calvert, but on only two occa- sions 1 met her daughter—a young and extremely attractive fair-haired glrl. The Young lady In question fell in love with a man named Charles Wharncliffe. who was well off, though somewhat her senior. He was en- gaged in cotton trade in Manchester, but, for some unaccountable reason. Joan's mother objected to the mar- riage, and it was quite six months before she reluctantly gave her con- sent. * % % % i HES facts were told me by my aunt on the night of my arrival 1 was the only guest, and we sat together after dinner in the old-fash- ioned drawing room. which smelt sweetly of the potpourri in the biue- and-white Chinese| jars. Has Mrs. Calvert told you the n?" 1 asked. “No. She won't. She savs that she tnstinctively dislikes him. Why, she can't say."” “That's curfous,” T remarked. “But a mother usually knows best, doesn’t she * “Joan does not look at it in that light” laughed my aunt. “In fact. to tell you the truth, she came here| a month ago and told me in confi- dence that if her mother continued to object she intended to run away | and marry Charles” | A wonder she didn’t do so.” 'Well, 1 advised her not to be| foslish and pain her mother. Run-| away matches seldom turn out well. | Nevertheless, it's all over now. They were married at Malton the day be- fore vesterday and are now on their | honeymoon. 1 had an invitation, but ORDERED THE BODY TO 1 dared not go to the church on a ED IN SECRET.” count of my cold. I was at the breakfast and Joan looked a most| “First.” I said. “have you quar- delightful bride.” reled? “Where have they gone for their “Quarreled? Why, of course not oneymoon? v o & s v > | h ‘t‘l";r<!)l: Gonten End ihen e el love each other far.too well for | we gave a photograph of your wife to | _\s a matter of fact T had had a LBl n il S he de;'lar:d.‘ We \he m:\';—r had | the newspapers they would publish it | chat with the head porter of the 5 s word. And vet, she’s left me:|and, no doubt, she would soon be|cari v And our conversation drifted on to | show: chic B 1 e g ol = howed me a telegram which| <No he promptly replied. “I'mbe- | liffe, and had described to me how ther topics . 2 3 otheritopics. ad been handed in at Maidstone. in|ginning to think that she changed her | very happy the pair had appeared. A wee er. o day < > chic 5 Calvert drove up in her car and was | soon.. JM , Worry. Shall return|has discovered we are unsulted to]porter had called him a taxi at 10 usiered in (to ‘where T was mawe) each other. So she has simply dis-|o'clock, and the bridegroom, who was tea with my aunt. | Tk appeared.” standing in the hall with his wife. “Oh. my dear’ she gasped, her|(CERTAINLY it was curious that a “What causes you to imagine that ” | had bade her good-bye, promising to COrRTHDES Tals L 4AE. ey anae) bride of a week should leave her|! 2Ked with curiosity. return to lunch. He had then driven trembling in great excitement. “I've|busband suddeniy without explana-| -Well. evervthing polnts to itfoff to the city. had such awtel mews. Joam is mise |tion and send him that reassuring|'WhY Should she get up in the morn-| An hour later the young wife had ing. She can’t be found anywhere!" | Message ;ngw::ld 1\'\"a(:l l‘!:-m“ (hefl:o;’e‘:(i::.li\nrdcrfld her two dressing bags to be ity brought down, and soon afterward a “What do you think of it. he: ssi we both echoed. "Reafl"f’ns. aa :h:’:n:‘l‘( a tele-| “How long has she been gone?’ 1| Then. on my return, I found thit she | hired touring car had driven up. £ram from her bag, which she handed |azked. had taken her two dressing bags and | This she had entered and she drove to me. “Three days. 1 intended to go to|EONe away. 2 away. It was from Charles Wharncliffe at | the police tonight. but I thought the | “‘What money did she have?’ I in-| And that had been the last seen of the Carlton Hotel, London. and read: | PAPErs mignt get hold of it, and 1|auired- .. her. - “Joan is missing. Ts she with you?:|don’t want that under any circum- Oh, she had about 70 pounds. I| The head porter had, unfortunately, “What will you do, my dear?" ask- | Stances.” thinicy ‘Not. more. _|mot taken the number of the car. So Eibie it z “Well, first tell me what happened| ~That would not last her forever.” | (here we were, absolutely at a dead “Do? What can I do Tt is use-|eVer since you arrived from Malton,” | | 84id. T knew she had a banking ac- jend. Her bags, however, were mo- less for me to go to London. If they |l said count, but up to the present mno|rocco ones. with green waterproof Have |quarrered ‘she: will surely. veo Nothing much. We've been about |Checaue had been drawn since her|cases, and bore the initials “J. F. W."” turn home.” ) a good deal, shopping and to the |disappearance. in giit. Nos 1 said, “I don‘t think so. She |theaters. We had to stay in London| “You see, she had an important en-| It struck me as very peculiar that in order to get my passport vised for | g2gement on the afternoon of her | Wharncliffe should give up the search Jacquard to communicate with Mrs. Wharncliffe and gave my own ad- dre This I thought would attract her, as she would believe that the lady who wished to engage her had returned. This advertisement wau placed by an advertising agency In Fleet street in three London morning papers and three of the principal pa- pers in Parls. Then I waited—and very anxfously. About a week later I recelved a letter addressed to “Madame Wharn- cliffe” It was in a thin, angular hand and bore a French stamp. The writer gave her address 78 Rue Royale, Nevers, and the note, which was in French, read as follows: “Dear Madame: At last I have news of you! Dieu! T have been much worried and frightened. Where have you been? At the Cheval Blanc they lied to me and sald you had never arrived there. I knew they lled, for aid T not arrive with you? Do, I beg of you, tell me what has happened. The police of Marsellles did nothing. ‘They did not believe what I told them. Shall I join you in London? I thank heaven, madame, that you are safe. “Your obedient servant, 'EORGETTE JACQUAR! ‘This, indeed, was a curious re- sponse. The Cheval Blanc was evi- dently a hotel, and the mention of the police showed that it was in Mar- seilles. * % x % o~ the day following the receipt of the letter I left London for Paris and traveled stralght through to Nevers, where I arrived at the old Hotel de France late in the evening. Next morning I called at the address in the Rue Royale. It was a small modiste’s kept by the sister of the girl Georgette Jacquard, a good- looking young person of the usual type of French maid. When I inquired for her and she came forward she regarded me with distinct suspicion. “You have written to Madame Wharncliffe in London, mademoi- selle,” 1 sald in. French. “I have come here to inquire what you know of her.” Her face changed and I saw that she was much agitated. “I know nothing, m'sieur.” “But pardon, your letter to her shows that you know a great de: “I repeat that I know nothing; girl declared. “May we go into that room yon- der?’ 1 asked, indicating a small room at the back of the obscure lit- tle hat shop. “I have some ques- titons to put to you.” the | Her face went as pale as death, but she consented. “Now, mademoiselle,” I commenced seriously, “I want you to answer my questions frankly, for much depends upon you. What do you know con- cerning madame? You saw her at the Carlton Hotel in London, did you not?” “Yes, and madame engaged me as her maid.” “But you called at the Carlton and saw Monsieur Wharncliffe after his wife disappeared? “She sent m was the reply. Why?" “I do not know madame's reasons. was her rather sullen answer. “How can 17" “But you were in madame's confl- dence,” T said. “Why did she leave her husband?* “Madame is not missing now. I wrote to her in London in response to her advertisement in the Petit Journal “Madame " is still missing,” I sald gravely. "I put that advertisement in the papei The girl was silent for some mo- ments. Then she exclaimed: “I see. You are an English police officer, eh?" To this T gave denial, assuring her T was not there with any hostile in- would be too proud to return home so goon. She will more likely write to you and go into retirement for a while.” “T have replied to Charles that Joan | is not here and asked for further de- for his wife in such a hopeless man- ner and return to his speculation on the cotton market. True, he was making & vast pile of money, with his shrewdness and his knowledge of disappearance. She had seen a French maid two days before and had made an appointment with her in order to engage her, it being proposed that she should enter my wife's France. She had hers six months ago. We intended to go to Biarritz for three weeks, and should have left yesterday. She was looking forward to it very eagerly, as she was there tails.” explained Mrs, Calvert. directly after she left school. She |Service after her return from France. |the markets, but that was hardly “Well, my dear, T shouldn't worry |had a school-girl friend there—a |The maid. a girl named Georgette |what a man would do if his bride had 1f T were you,” my aunt urged, “She's|Mademoiselle Vinel. Shall we go |Jacquard, called, and I saw her. She|disappeared after a week of mar- safe enough somewhere. Joan is|to Scotland Yard and report that my |expressed surprise that madam had |riage. quite able to take care of herselt.” |Wife is missing What db you ad-|not kept her appointment and went| Was there some secret which he had “Ah. but vou hear of such awful|vise " away in apparent disgust.” not told? things nowadays. don’t you?" I reflected “How did you find this maid?" Mrs. Calvert became frantic. She “True. But T don't think there is| “At present I think I should refrain| “Joan advertised.” hombarded me with letters and tele- grams untll, at last, in order to pacify her, I went to Scotland Yard—with- out the husband’s knowledge, be it “Where did she come from?” “She was from Dinard. She had come to London to seek an engage- from raising the hue-and-cry. Better advertise in half a dozen of the daily any cause for alarm. We must first find out if there has been a quarrel,” Faaia papers and see whether we have any “You will be in London tomorrow |result. It is evident that your wife | ment, she told me. I gave the girl 10 said. night, William." remarked my aunt.|has gone off of her own free will. If|shillings for her trouble and asked| The police were ready, as they Why not go to the Carlton and see |She sees that you are really distressed |ber to write to madame. I never |always are, to raise the hue-cry and Wharncliffe on Mrs. Calvert's be-|She will, no doubt, communicate with thought, of course, that Joan had left |to circulate the photograph of the half™* you.” me." lady—one taken by a New York pho- * % ok We went across to the writing “And did the maid write?” tographer a month before her mar- table, where we drafted an advertise- 'No. I've heard nothing,” he re- |riage. HESITATED. 1 have often found| .n¢ brief but the point, and which | Plied. But to this 1 could not give con- that in trying to do a favor for a sent. Of course, the missing girl's rea !r!en;fl 1 have made myself highly un-| “To Joan—It is unfair! Come back RES kT mother was most eager that due'in- popular. of 'wiite] Have forgiven lyou.— quiry should be made, but Wharn- “1 see vou do not feel inclined to|Charles. 5 N EXT day the desolate bridegroom |cliffe had set his face against it, & left the Carlton agd returned to Manchester to couduct his business, while the same day I went up to Helmsley. and there saw the mother of the missing girl, to whom I told the exact facts, omitting, of course, the incident of the Soho restaurant. “There's something wrong, radi- cally wrong, somewhere!” declared Mrs. Calvert, as we sat together in the big drawing room at Heddon Manor. “Fancy! He has gone back to his money making in Manchester instead of going to the police and getting Joan's portrait in the papers.” The widow was furious, and, after all, I did not wonder at it. “Your daughter was at school in France, was she not?’ I asked, when her anger had subsided; for though at first I had refrained from entering into the affair, my curiosity had now been thoroughly aroused. “Yes. She was at Mme. Binet's, at Versailles, for four years. It is a most excellent school. I went there several time: “And that is why she wanted to go to France for her honeymoon, per- hap: ‘Probably,” said her mother. “And because of it she wanted to engage a_French maid?" g “I know nothing of that. Joan did not mention it to me. I suppose she had arranged it with her husband,” replied the muther of the missing girl.: “But why did she telegraph from Maidstone?’ she added. g That was just the point which sorely puzzled me. I could suggest no explanation, save that she had done it for a blind. Truth to tell, fact which further increased my sus- piclon. He had not behaved as one would have expected a distressed huskand to behave. At Mrs. Calvert's Tequest T went up there and saw him again. His manner was that of one annoy- ed by my reappearance. “I don't see what we can do if Joan refuses to answer my appeal” he said. “It was repeated in the pi pers twice last week. and yet we receive .no reply. She's all right, otherwise I should not have received that telegram from Maidstone.” * k X ¥ RETURNED to London more pus- zled than ever I had spent two days with Charles Wharncliffe and had found him so engrossed in mak- ing money In cotton that he seemed already to have forgotten his young wife's unaccountable absence. 1 must here declare that my sus- picions had become greatly increased. That he was aware of some important fact which he was concealing I now felt quite confident. Gradually, by degrees, I had been drawn into that tangle of mystery, and ‘now, even sgainst my will, I found myself im- pelled toward a strenuous effort to solve the mystery. ‘Was it possible that Joan Wharn- cliffe had crossed to the continent alone? ~And if she had done #o, what could have been the motive? If she had gone to France, it was within the bounds ‘of probability-that she had not seen the English newspapers. But. would she go abroad alone when her husband was to take her In a day or two? Besides, she would not have left England - without h ‘| passport. Had she taken It with her? ‘An hour later T got Wharncliffe by telephone and his reply was: “She had her - passport In - her interfere.” Joan's mother remarked. “But 1 do beg of you to see Wharn- cliffe tomorrow and try to discover what has occurred Well. Mrs. Calvert,” T replied, “Wharncliffe may resent my intrusion upon his private affairs. If I were in his place I should probably object to the inquisitiveness of an outsider. Of course, he has to answer to you. his wife's mother. and to nobody else. “Yes. And he shall answer to me. sald the well preserved widow In a tone of great determination. “But you will do me this favor, won't you? What time shall you be in London?" “1 arrive at Kings Cross about dinner time.” “Then let me wire to Charles say- ing that you will call on him on my behalf—say. at 3 o'clock tomorrow night. Do, I beg of you.” “I think you ought to do this for Mrs. Calvert, Willlam,” my aunt sald. So that decided me, and I con- sented. Next day T left Helmsley, Mrs. Cal- vert having already sent word to the bridegroom that I was calling upon him at the Cariton. This appeared In the papers two days later, but as day after day I called upon him—having, of course, reported to Joan's mother—no answer came. It became quite clear to me that there had been no quarrel between the pair. Each time 1 saw Wharn- cliffe he seemed to be increasingly anxious, and yet there was one small fact which T discovered and which set me thinking deeply. * % % x ABOUT a week after the advertise- ment had appeared 1 happened to go with a man who had invited me to dinner at’a small restaurant in Soho, and there, as I entered the ®oor, 1 saw Wharncliffe seated at a table with a rather good-looking girl, some- what flashily dressed. For an instant I drew back, 8o that he should not see me. It was, to say the least, curious that if he were so infatuated with his young wife, who was missing, he should now be found in a little foreign restaurant where he might not be recognized with a girl whom I took to be a chorus lady. ‘When at 9 o'clock I called I found I made an excuse to my friend and him awaiting me in the hall. I saw|we dined elsewhere. But the circum- that he was.pale and nervous. I had|stance set me thinking. only met him once before, and then Next day I called again at the only for half an hour at a tennis|Carlton. party at Heddon Manor. “I fear T'll have to be back in Man- “Come up to my room,” he said in|chester,” he said. ‘My business is & low, hard voice. “We can talk bet- | going on anyhow. ' At the office they ter up there.” are asking me to return. I've' some ‘We entered the lift and went to his | big deals on just now.” Dedroom on the third floor. “Surely you won't give up all hope ‘When inside he closed the door and|of tracing your wife?’ I said, not said: without suspicion. What I had dis- “Look here! There's some infernal|covered on the previous nixht had|however, I was wondering whether mystery that I can’t understand. I'm [caused me much reflection. Did he! Wharncliffe had been to Maidstone glad you've come to see me, and I|know of her whereabouts? 1 won-)and sent the message to himself. only hope to heaven you will be able|dered. Had he himself sent that tele- ““The whole affair is exceedingly to find poor Joan. gram from Maidstone? Besides, why | strange,” Mrs. Calvert,” .I said. “I His words were not those of a|should he be averse to the affair get- | have done my best, but I fail to see man who had quarreled with his|ting Into the papers? - Further, by|how we can proceed further. No 1 newly wed wife. marrying Joan he had become pos-|doubt your daughter is safe some-|maiden name, so it is quite possible “Well,” I said, standing with him |sessed of certain funds which would | where and will either come home or | that she's’taken it'with her. Defore the dressing table, “be frank|help him considerably in his busi- | write to you'in due course.” Then, after exchanging-a few more with me, Wharncliffe, and tell me|ness. “But have they quarreled?” words, we were cut off. . . cxactly what has happened.” “Don’t you think it is now time| “I certalnly don't think s0,” wasmy| Next day I drew up an advertise- o ST tell you all that' L know,* _ - Ithat we weat.to Scotland.Yard? Iflreply, : 5 muent -asking —the . mald - Georgette an Lmissing. and: you. must. asslst. me-la tent, but merely to solve the mystery of the bride's disappearance. “I am afraid, m'sieur, that I can- not help you,” she replied, shaking her head. ‘Madame's disappearance is just as great a mystery to me as it is to you.” “In your letter to her you mention the Cheval Blanc at Marseilles,” I re- marked. Again her face blanched. “Yes,” she faltered. “Will you explain why you went to Marseilles?” “I don't know. went there.” Madame simply “Alone?’ “No. I was with her.” “Where did you meet her after you called upon Monsieur Wharnciffe?" “I took train to Folkestone, where madame waited for me. She had gone down by car by way of Maidstone from there. I joined her at Folk stone and we crossed to Boulogne t gether, and on to Paris.” with any person?” “Not to my knowledge, .m'sieur,” previous day, unknown to her hus- band, en?” “Yes. She told me to call she had gone -and pretend that she had not engaged me." to put her husband off the scent, no doubt. “I think so, m'sieur. In Paris we ! refrained ‘at the Ritz Hotel for three Madame had telegraphed to days. some one in the south of France and ‘awaited a reply. “Did you discover to whom she had telegraphed?” “No, m'sieur. practically nothing.” “But what conclusions did you form?” T asked. she murmured. "“Where did you last see your mis. tress?" ’ “In her room at the hotel in Mar- sellles”" ¥ “Now, sellles The girl shrugged her shoulders, but made no reply. “Was it not to meet a man in se- cret—a man who had gone to Mar- ellles to see her? Am I correct?” . “I don’t know,” was her reply. “Have ‘I guessed the truth?™ I asked with a smile. X But she still preserved silence. * %% MO“ than ever I felt confident that the dainty Georgette knew the truth and could tell ‘much if she chose. “Now, look here, mademoiseile” I said at last, looking straight into her face, “I must ask you to travel with me down to Marseilles. I mean to clear up this myster: She started: In an instant I saw reluctance writien -upon her features. “I'm afraid-I can not do that,” she “But_you must. Your mistress is why did she go to Mar- D. C, JULY 2, 1922—PART %~ By William Le Queux tracing hef,” I said determinedly. She made: many excuses, and it was not until I had pointed out the re-! sponsibility, and her half admissions that she knew more than she had told me, that she consented to accom- pany me to Marseille on the following morning. We met at the station, and through the long, tedlous journey to the Mediterranean 1 tried In vain to get from her what she knew concerning madame’s mysterious friend whom she was et meet in Marseille, But T dragged from her the story o what had occurred at Marseille, Georgette had, on arrival, suggest- ed that they should go to the Hotel Louvre et Paix, one of the most famous hotels in Europe, so well known to travelers going east. but madame had been persistent that they should go to the Cheval Blanc. “I know Marseille, 1 said, have never heard of the place. “And 1 aiso, m'sieur,” she said. “I did not like the idea. But madame insisted. She thought she would be recognized at the Louvre et Paix. Her brother-in-law was on his way home from India and was due in Mar- 13 but 1 Relief for Commuting Bootleggers: Trade Jobs Lardner’s Advice et O the editor: An idear has just been broughten to my tension which it looks to me like it would work wonders towards the betterment of liveing and laboring | conditions In certain parts of the U. S. | to say nothing about insureing a big improvement in the pubiic health, mo- | rals and etc. Tais idear was hit on | {the other day by C. Wm. Duncan| i that works on the Evening Ledger in { Philly and *it come to him while he was on his way to work from his home in Camden, N. J. “This is kind of silly.” he says to himself, “for 2 man that lives in Jer- sey to be working in Philly and vice versa. What a person should ought to try and arrange to do is trade jobs with a man that now lives in Philly and work In Camden and then they wouldn’t neither one of us haif to waste | and had sent monsieur a telegram “Did she keep any appointment “But she had engaged you on the after “She had a motive In that, {n order, jlained to the night porter of being Madame told me “I formed no conclusions, m'sieur,” sellle. PShe feared to meet him there. So on arrival we took a taxi to the Cheval Blanc. I don't like the place and T am sorry I am returning there.” “Why?" “Weli, m'sieur. I shall say nothing. Judge for yourself. S0 much time double-crossing the Dela- ware.” . Truer wds. was never spoke by a newspaper man or nobody else and the people interested should take up this proposition. * % % ¥ is needless to point out that Phila. business is over in Windsor Is gents who only crosses the river dureing the racing season and bets on the horses. On the other hand the folks that re- sides in Windsor and works in Detroit is employs of automobile factorys and ete. - Well, the factory workers ought to make good at picking the winners as they wouldn't be handicapped by no knowledge and as for the gamblers be ing able 1o put a autemobile together, | why T have rode in some products of the factorys that felt and acted like they was built by a man who had made a exclusive life long study of horses * % x % "THE situation in St. Louts and East St. Louis is different. St. Louls people that spends thelr days in East St. Louls is use to fighting colored | people wile the ones that makes their home in East St. louis and works in what 1 call the Mound City has got themselfs accustomed to battleing with Dutchmens only. It might take a cou ple wks. for the boye to learn to han dle strange weppons but when all is said and done the closter to home you T Z happened there?’ 1 ..;‘E:l e, e |‘l and Camden ain't the only 2 places “Simply this” she said, in a | which the scneme applys to as it fits strangely changed voice. “We ar-|30¥ 2 towns which is ciose enough rived at the Cheval Blanc very late at night, and found it an obscure place in a side street off the Canne- biere—a third-class hotel. Madame was not very well—overtired after the journey from Paris. Otherwise she would have gone elsewhere. I saw her to bed and left her, but next morning when I went to her room, No. 42, the door was unlocked. I went in, but found it empty. The bed had not been slept In!" “Madame's bags were there “No, m'sieur. The room was empty, with clean towels prepared for the reception of visitors™ declared the girl. “I' went to the manager, ‘a beetle-browed little Ttallan, and asked where madame was, but, to my amazement, he denied all knowledge of her. He told me, laughingly, that 1 had arrived alone on the previous night and that madame only existed in my imagination; I w naturally indignant and demanded to know where madame’'s bags were, but he simply dismissed me, telling me to go to the police if I had any com- plaint.” ‘And you went?" “I went to the prefecture of police and made a statement. I was told to return In six hours. When I did so the sous-chef saw and told me that the most searching Inquirles had been made and that madame had never arrived in Marseille. 1 re- mained a week at another hotel, try- ing to identify the cabman who had driven us to the Cheval Blanc, but, being pnsuccessful, I went to my sis- ter at Nevers. I dared not write to Monsleur Wharncliffe, because I fear- ed that some accusation might be made against me. And, besides, I had given my word of honor to madame.” * % X ¥ story was, indeed, a strange one. The more I reflected. the more curious the whole affair ap- peared. Three hours after she had related it to me we ascended the steps of the rather unwholesome Cheval Blanc and T demanded of the beetle-browed manager to know the whereabouts of the young English lady. He, how- ever, denied all knowledge of her. Later T went to the prefecture of police and there saw Monsieur Jules Guerin, the director of police, whom 1 happened to know. He greeted me pleasantly, but when I told him the object of my errand he pursed his lips and his manner changed. A silence fell between us in thal cold, bare officlal room. At last he spoke. “I suppose, Monsieur Le Queux, it is useless for us to further preserve the truth concerning your poor lady friend. Now, can you keep a secret if T tell you the truth?” “I can not keep the secret from her husband,” I replied. “Certainly not. It is only right that he should know. Poor fellow, he must be greatly distressed. We know all the circumstances. His wife came here in secret to meet a young Frenchman named Monier, who had been. blackmalling her—a young blackguard whom we have since ar- rested on another charge. He had some letters of hers which she came here to purchas “Ah! Then it was fear that caused her to leave her husband so mysteri- ously, and she intended to return.” “Yes, fear,” replied the director of police. “But her disappearance came about in this way: On the day of her arrival the exhibition was opened, and Marseilles was full of visitors from France, Spain and Ttaly. In the night madame rang her bell and com- “AN IDEAR HAS JUST BEEN together so that people lives in one and works in the other, but a spe- cially towns which is separated from each other by a river, lake or ocean. Like for-inst. you take N. Y. City and Newark or any of the nearby Jer- sey towns. A man that lives in New- ark and spends 8 hrs. a day working in N. ¥. finely geta so as he don't know what state he is in. Further and more if he uses the tube to get from home to the office his ears is bound to be affected sooner or later and if he uses the ferry the day is sure to come when they will be dragging the bottom of the river for his final remains. This ain't saying nothing about the time and temper which is lost makeing the trip to and fro. ‘The same holds true in the case of Detroit and Windsor, Ontario, St Louis, Mo, and East St. Louis, IIL, and probably a whole lot of other places which I can't name on acct. of always being backwards in regards to geography. The Detroit-Windsor prop- osition is probably the most important as it involves international complica- tions and might of been took up at the Genoa conference if they had of thought about it. No doubt some people will try and crab this scheme by saying that a Jer- sey bootlegger for inst., that makes his home in N. Y. would hardly be wil ing to change positions with a prom nent N. Y. lawyer that lives in Jersey on acct. of the financial sacrifice. * x % ¥ HIS objection has been foresaw and overcame by those who has gotten interested in the scheme. The lawyer will do the bootlegger's work but he ‘won't drag down the bootlegger’'s prof- its. He will continue to get his law- yer's fees once a wk. from the boot- legger who is tending to the law busi- ill. He summoned a doctor, very when it was found that she was suf- fering trom bubenic plague, and at 5 o'clock. in the morning she died. We were informed and at once took pre- cautions to suppre: the news that plague had broken out in Marseille: So we ordered the body to bé buried in secret and imposed the strictest silence upon the hotelkeeper and the servants. That is why all knowledge of madame was denied at the hotel.” I sat aghast. The mystery was ter, where I revealed to the bereaved husband the bitter truth. And if to- day you go to the high-up cemetery of Notre Dame de la Garde you will find a great white marble cross which Charles Wharncliffe erected to the memory of his wife. (Copyright, 1922.) “THE LAWYER WILL SEND THE BOOTLEGGING PROFITS WEEK- LY TO THE BOOTLEGGER.” - ness in N. Y. By the sume tokem the lawyer will send the bootlegging profits weekly to the bootlegger. In other wds. you get the same pay like you are getting in your present position and the only differents is that you don't half to wear yourself out traveling to get it. Further knd more the bootlegger should ought to jump solved. Four days later I was in Manches- Electro-Chemical Colors. TBE preparation of mineral and artificial organic colors by the aid of electricity has made consid- erable progress and it is suggested are when vou get killed the freshe: you will look when the neighbors comes in All and all 1 can't see no argument BROUGHT TO MY TENSION.” 0 which will hold water vs. Mr. Duncan’ {M‘mee and if it only done good in ti localitys T have mentioned why it wou’ certainiy be worth a trial, but thin! how much more good it would do ii the way of saveing money, time, and etc. in the case of people thar lives in Hoboken and works vice versa. in Liverpool and RING W. LARDNER. Great Neck, Long Island, June 30. Facts About Buttons. UTSIDE of China. where they in- dicate rank, buttons are just but- | tons, but men who have studied the jsubject say that they represent mod- ern civilization: that since their ap- pearance in Europe in the thirteenth century they have been emploved by the most enlightened people as the {proper way of holding clothes to- gether. Savages use strings or sticks and the orientals employ hooks. In its effort to keep up with civili- zation the United States produces each year more than $20.000,000 worth of buttons. Buttons are not carried over from one year to an- other; they either go out of style or, like pins, are lost. This means that buttons to the amazing number of 8,000,000.000 are made for our use in a single year. Here is a greater | quantity than was made in the mem- orable era of the industry when the Birmingham button millionaires were as common as Pittsburgh steel mag- nates today, when men and women covered their clothes with fortunes in the baubles and “plunged” in but- tons as they did in tulip bulbs or Mississippi bubbles. Women are now the greatest users of buttons and they have the great- est choice in material—agate, bone, celluloid, glass, horn, ivory, pearl and shell. Man. however, takes bone or horn forh is coat and vest and pearl or shell for his white waistcoats. He uses fewer white buttons than form- erly. But in one division of the industry he is superior. The 700,000,- 000 trouser buttons are all his. Woman has taken his hat, coat, boots and socks. but -she has not taken over his buttons—his badge of civilization, according to some au- thorities. A blow to buttons as severe a when the Mennonites, Ammanites and Dunkards—no fighting men among them—took to hooks when modern men took to belts. Sectional strife and prejudices lurked in the ques- tion. In ante-convention days of 1912, when the agricultural picture of Jthe great Nebraskan appeared, some easterners made bold to jeer at the suspenders. Nebraska stood as a man for suspenders; likewise Kansas, pointing to old John Brown and a few southern states. Belt wearers were “dudes.” denizens of the “effete east.” laggards in civilization, traitors to the sex, fit to rank with the wil- low-withed savage of the miserable hooked-up Tibetan. Alcohol and Plant Life. that the products of the industry may eventually replace those derived from coal tar. Among the colors now pro- duced in commercial quantities by the employment of the electric cur- rent are vermilion, Scheel's green, cadmium yellow, Japanese red, cerise or cherry red, Berlin green and sinc white, besides a number of organic l'u}u‘m /The process consists essen- at this plan as it would save him from the danger of getting arrested under the Mann act for going from one state to another for immortal purposes. Most people that lives in Camden and works in Phila. is said to be po- licemens where as most residents of Phila. whose work is in Camden is also policemens. in this case they wouldn't be fio such difficulty as try- ing to master a new profession and the only differents would be that both towns would have a better police force. As near as I can learn the majority tially in sending an electric current through a solution containing the eslements required for the production, by peeeipitation, of the eslering mat- A ingenious Frenchman recently administered alcohol, through the soll, to a geranium plant for the purpose of observing the effect. It was sufficiently startling. The leaves of the geranium began to turn yellow and gave off a peculiar etheric color, symptoms of poisoning appeared, the rootlets turned black aand seemed to have been burnt, the circulation stopped in the branches, the leaves drooped toward the earth. and in four, days the alcoholized geranium, 'hlch\ had beéen a very besutiful plant, was cheered by Willlam Allen White; also