Evening Star Newspaper, January 20, 1924, Page 66

ails Tom Hortol T the clubhouse th of ti etation and others with the theate hig Juncheon ok the dining room. tie famous producer, waved nd the immaculate Pelham time that the host dies. u give un your with him.” d the m “you can have job with me. Pelham. Pelham flush His warfare with the Gray Ghost was a matter of com- mon knowledge. ertheless. he was e on the subje The criminal had had the better of the cucounter thus But he shrugged and laughed . “You look us gloomy as though you had a priv Gray Ghost walking Your own stral chambers, Ma- he me people have got it declared the manager. a minute. 1f the Gray Ghost robs a bank it doesn’t cost you @ penny if you can't find h But if I can't fita actor, where the deuce am 177 Maline to Alr, 8 a pre soft,” trade jobs n. an Pelham Jooked down at the fat, red face of Maline. Usually that face was wrinkled with mirth; the small brown eyes twinkled. But today the face was lugubrious. Pelhum glanced about the crowded dining room. “I see a lot of pretty good actors " he declared. the ones 1 want” frowned Maline. 't waste sympathy on y E ham th five plays packing New Yorl theaters and @ dozen successes on the road, you strike me a5 being one of the filthy rich. Why do you want actors, any- way? Aren't the ones you have isfactory? I've seen all your current productions, and they seem well cast to me. Maline stared at im almost angri- t u most? What v Ghost did last year or what ing to do tomorrow? is the same way with me. The plays that I've produced don't interest me. It's the play that I'm going to pro- duce that counts. and nc one t> play it. ‘The Three Wise Men' is the name of it—a mys- tical melodrama. And I can't find three ¢ e * TEWEESE, who was also a pro- ducer of note, had stopped at the table and listened to Maline's plaint “I'm in the same boat,” he said. *T 4 piay in the office which has P .iderly men's parts. Big parts. | And 1 them.” “What do you mean?" asked Pel- ham. *“Are character actors as scorce &s that?” “Good actors, like good detectives or generals or kings or cooks, are always scarce,” declared Deweese. “There arc, outside of a few recog- ed stars, just seven men on the American stage capable with distinction, the parts of men between fifty-five and seventy. I 11€an men with some reputation, who'd draw a few dollars into the Box office.” “Well, why asked Pelham. Deweese shrugged. Maline spoke. “I don't know about Deweese,” he said, “but I've written and tele- graphed to every ono of those seven :nen. I've sent messages to their ad- dresses, only to learn that they're all out of town. Minister, Septen, Planford, Kelley, Swinburn, Sheddon d Garceau—every last one of them disappeared. “Same here,” stated Deweese. Why. only last month Septen was in my office offering to work for almost nothing. And now, when I have a fat part £6r him, at the biggest sal- ary he ever recelved in all his life, he's gone out of town and left no address.” He grinned at Pelham. “How much would the Tryon Agency charge for locating Septen and the others?” Pelgam smiled. “Ld do it for noth- ing, Deweese, if it would make you offer a decent cast to a long-suffer- ing publ Deweese pression. can't find anvone to pla not eugage face resumed its sad ex- h-sh! T think I see the Gray Ghost,” he whispered. ~Pelham managed to, join in the laugh against himself @nd was still smillng as ho stepped out into Broad- way But once there, the smile left Lis lips. Walking toward his apartment, his mind’ busied itseff with the never- ending problem of the arrest and conviction of the Gray Ghost. The battle between them had be- come more than a ‘struggle between the forces of law and order and tlie forces of vice. The fight was personal; théir an- 1agonism was personal. Pelham went to the office of the Tryon Agency, in which he was a silent partner. But he found Jerry Tryon awaiting for him now at his apartment. With Jerry was a chol- crie old gentleman. Kobert Bleakie, of the international banking house of Bleakie & Horton. and it was con- cerning Lis partner that he had call- ed upon Tryon, whg, in turn, had brought him here. “And if you were a Dalai lama you couldn’t be harder to reach” said Blakie, after the introductions had heen performed. “I had an idea that any @etective would be glad to he re- ained by Bleakie & Horfon. But Well, it | And here I've got | the greatest manuscript I ever read | aracter actors to fill the bill.” | of playing, | them?” | ”* Bleakie toid 1 | Tryon here tells me that he doesn't | know whether you'll take the case or not” He stared belligerently at Pel- | ham. “What the blazes are you, any- | way A prima donna?” Pelham chuckled; he liked ths vie orous, irascible old man. “Jerry h | mors me so that T do act a little bit hie admitted. . don't act that way with me,” Lleakie. Suddenly he beamied {upon Pelham,, thereby extracting ifrom his words all possible offense. {“Younz man, it you'll find out what 'ails my partner, Tom Horton, you mey write your own check.” “Thoss are sweetly sympathetic words.” said Pelham. “I have always a chair by the fire, and a seat at my table, for gentlemen whose conversa- {tion is so interesting.” TTRYON realized that his partner ! and their new clisnt had a | quired a liking for each other. Jerry loved Pelham, and the surest way to Jerry's heart was to indicate that jvne liked Pelham. Bicakie saw the beaming face of Jerry and frowned. t like a cat that's stolen he ecried. grinning crea Guce the goods.™ ‘Suppose you describe the goods, ‘Mr. Bleakie,” suggested Pelham. Fair enough,” declared Bleakie. v partner, Tom Horton, is acting madman, and I want to know “What's he doing?" asked Pelham. “Making a fool of himselt,” snap- ped Bleakie. “There are so many ways in which that may be done,” smiled Pelham. “Meaning that you want me to get to the point, eh?" demanded Bleakie. “I would like to know what's wrong with Mr. Horton,” said Pelham gently. “Young man, I like you. I haven't {been shut up so politely in a long |time. ~What sort of golf do you [ play?” “Rotten, when TI've work to do,” re- {plied Pelham. “Why, you impertinent young jacka- { napes!” cried the Lanker. Then ho grinned cheerfully. “All right, here are the facts.” His rub\cun:} countenance assumed an alert seriodsnes: “Tom Horton and I have been pa: ners for forty years,” said Bleakie. “Although our tastes are different, I | believe I know him about as well as {he knows himself. I've always gone {in for sport and more or less of a |good time. Tom is different. He I rarely even plays cards. His idea of a good time is to collect rare antiqui- ties, precious stones, first editions of {ancient Books—all that sort of thing. {I've known him to spend four houts standing in front of a plcture, staring | at It, never moving, as though hypno- tized. The man is beauty Insane. Al- | ways has been. The things he owns | would fill a museum. And no expert ever got a dollar from Tom. He's told me that probably lots of his pos- | sessions are fakes, but that it doesn't | matter; they're beautiful. And sud- | denly this man, withiout a moment's warning. starte destroying a collec- ition that it has taken forty years to i { | gather.” “Destroying?” cried Pelham. “Dispering, I should say; but it's just as bad. He's selling all his pos- sessions. And he's selling them at any old price. You must understand that because you've pald two hundred thousand dollars for a painting doesn't mean that you can get that price for it at a .moment's notice. It takes time to find a purchaser who will meet your price. And Tom is letting things go almost to the first bidder. If he continues, twenty million dol- lars’ worth of precious things will go for two or three million.” “He's mad,” declared Pelham. said Bleakie, positively. “Can’t you have him restrained?” Iuked Pelham.” “The firm of Bleakie & Horton does | more hundreds of millions of dollars’ } business in a year than I'd be pre- pared to tell> you offhand, young man,” replled Bleakle. “If it leaked out that I was trying to prevent my de- partner -from disposing of his col- lection it might cause a panic that would ehake- the “financlal world. I can’t do that. “Won't he listen 'to.reason?” manded Pelham. “Listen to it?" cried Bleakie. “He won't even,see me. He simply tele- { Phoned me one day last weck that he | wouldn't be down to the office for a month or so. Said he was golng to sell his collection, and rang oft. T went to bis house and he refused to ‘see me. I talked with his secretary and that gentieman informed me that {he had pleaded and argued with Tom ; without result. The next day Tom telephoned me again, thanked me for what he termed my misguided objec- titons to his action; but told me that iminding one's own business was a | marvelous policy. T % “It’s @ matter that must be confi- dential. | As yet it has not leaked out to the press. Tom's secretary told me that all sales were being made quietly.” “Now, if T consult lawyers they will suggest obvious things—injunctions, medical examinations, trustees, the declaring of Tom -incompetent. -I'd rather be dead than subject my part- ner and dearest friend to such indig- nities. But at the same time IMdo not like to see him lose $15,000,000. I came to you to_have you tell me if there is any way short of legal pro- ceedings whereby I can prevent Tom from this insanity.” Pelham shrugged. “I'm afraid that such a matter 18 completely out of our line, Mr. Bleakie," he told the banker. jou may “Let's see! this wonderful partner of yours pro-i THE .SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON The Gray Ghost--Criminal vrite your ownt che “A man has a right to dispose of his property as he sees fit. Only vou or Mr. Horton's family could apply to the courts In stich a case @s this.” “I don’t want to apply to the courts. and Tom hasn't any family,” said Bleakle. “Then I'm afraid”that there's noth- ing_to be dome asserted Pelham. | He “frowned. “Stiil, because it's an interesting affair—let me think it { over, Mr. Bleakie. * ok K PU? nest afternoon be telephoned the banker. “I've seen your part- ner,” he said. “I happen to know sev- eral dealers, and I got one of them to take me to Mr. Horton's house this morning. I happen to know some- thing about jade and I was able to in- terest Mr. Horton. I asked him why he was disposing so recklessly of properties that had been expensively and painstakingly acquired. He look- ed at me quizzically and replied: ‘Young man, a time comes to every jone when he makes the discovery that 2 Quman being is free or is a slave. | I've worried forty years about my possessions. I've been afraid of | burglars, of fires, of loss. I'm ridding myself of that obsession, and it it costs me $20,000,000 to be a free man it's cheap at the price. I suppose you think I'm foolish, crazy. Maybe I am; but, if so, there are others just as crazy. Bill Smathers is doing the same thing. So is John Wilkie. In fact, seven of us, the biggest private collectors in New York, have decided that we'll free ourselves from the dreadful burden of ownership, no matter at what cost.” He's insane,” cried Bleakie. Maybe,” said Pelham dubiously. “But 1 never met a saner-seeming man. You know, there's a lot to be said on his side of the argument.” “You're a young jackaes ecried Bleakie. “Thank you,” said Pelham “Keep the change,” cried banker. ‘How about some golf?” Palham laughed. “Any time atall.” “I'll ring you up,” said Bleakie. But I won't bring any blank check with me.” And that, Pelham thought, was the end of the Horton affair. It was a week later that Maline, the play producer, called upon him. There was a worried look upon the manager’s red face. “Mr. Pelham, you remember De- weese asking you how much the Tryon Agency would charge for lo- cating Septen and the other character actors?” “I remember some joking remark of his,” replied Pelham. “It's no joke now,” stated Maline gloomily. “Have you read the papers lately? Pelham looked surprised. through all of them.” “Didn’t happen to read of Septen's suicide four days ago, did you?" asked Maline. Petham looked shocked. see it,” he admitted. - “And you didn't read of Swinburn's accidental death the day before ves- terday?" inquired the producer. | Pelham shook his head. “Septen was found in Central Park, a bullet hole in his forehead, powder marks around the wound &nd a re- volver lying beside him. Swinburn slipped on the 6th avenue L platform at 42d street and was instantly killed by a train,” said Maline. “There was nothing much in the papers about elthor of them. Just paragraphs on an inside page. But they were both Wolves, and a few of us over at the club got the idea that there is some- thing queer about the two deaths. You know, neither of them has been n evidence at all recently, They the “I skim “I didn't ! l seemed to have disappeared, along | with five other character actors— Minister, Blanford, Kelley, Sheddon | and Garceau. They were all more or less friendly, all about the same flge‘ and all actors. And it looks funny to us. Last night one of the commit- tees of the Wolves had its monthly meeting. It's a committee that has' broad powers. Talking over those two deaths and the continued dis- appearance of the flve other men, we decided—well, we didn't decide any- { thing except to ack you to look into the matter. - It's hard for us to be- [lieve that even the direst poverty would drive Septen to suicide. And it happens to be well known to all of us that Swinburn never rode on the elevated. He was in an accident on the elevated ten years ago and had ever since an obsessing horror of those trains. Of course, this isn't evidence. Neither s our belief that Septen was normal real evidence. everthele: here's a check for 00 as a retainer. Will you take he case? Pelham tore it up. ! “L am a Wolf,”" le said, “and the {case interests me. 1 don’t want Now, tell me everything you §. u looked at the check and | | | But beyond.giving Pelham, the ad- dresses of the two dead men and the five other missing actors Maline could add nothing to what he had already | told. Septen, actording to the police, was unquestionably a suicide. Swin- burn had beerr accidentally killed. JPELHAM began his investigation | by visiting the last known resi- | dence of Septen. He learned that on a day about a month ago Septen, a widower without children, had re- j ceived a letter by messenger. He had left his modest rooms and never returned. He had taken with him no baggage. The same facts fitted the cases of all the other men. Un- uniformed messengers Mad braught them letters. They had gone out hurriedly and had never returned. In three cases their rooms had been rented to other people and their bag- gage stored in the cellar. The others happened to have paid in advance, and their rooms, or apartments, were ready for the And it was not extraordinary tl their landlords had not reported their disappearance to the police. Any one of them might have obtained a sudden en- gagement with a road company or with a motion picture concern that | mecessitated instant travels One thing attracted Pelham's at- tention. © Of the seven missing men four had been observed to carry in their hands as they left their rooms the letters which had just arrived.| The letters had probably contained | instructions that they should be brought to the sender, as a matter of identification, perhaps.: Or else the address to which these actors went was unfamillar to them. Perhaps the writer of these letters had wished no evidence of the desti- nation of the letters’ recipients to be left in their homes. Pellam found a thrillnof excitement as this theory presented itself to him. At the last address which he vis- ited, the room of Minister, he found | among the missing man's effdets, to which he was given ready access on showing his card, a diary kept b: the actor. The last item'on the last page gave Pelham his first clue: “Just received letter from Ferry Theatrical Agenc: Broadway, asking me to call,” the diary read. Pelham arrived at the Broadway address, 'to learn that the Ferry agency had been a brief tenant. It had rented two rooms about six weeks ago, and a month ago had forfeited its advance rent and closed its offl The agency had appar- ently consisted of one man, Mr. Ferry himself. The elevator boys and the janitor gave Pelham varying descrip- tions of the agent, by none of which would he be prepared to identify any one. But of one thing Pelham was cer- tain. The seven character actors had been deliberately lured from their homes and had been inveigled into some adventure that had cost the lives of two of them. Even as he sat helplessly at his apartment one l {corner and telephoned m D. or,more of the five men might Be in the process of being killed. Why? The imagination failed to supply any motive whatsoever. All of these seven vanished men were poor. These men, though suc- cessful as artists, had had no finan- cial success. Robbery could not be the motive. Behind the most unreasoying oc- currence lies a reason. If ong actor had disappeared, the problem might be insurmountable, but where seven had vanished the problem should be- come easler. Parallel trzils, amazing coincldences, should offer themselves to his observation. Only they didn't. Robbery he discarded. Why, then, should any one interest himself in the disappearance of seven old ac- tors? If not for what they had, could it bo for what they were? He scemed to feel something at his mental fin- ger tips, something elusive yet tangi ble. But it slipped from his clutches. Never had the Gray Ghost proposed a puzzle so unsolvable as this. Indeed, it seemed like a feat of the Gray Ghost. It took organization to kid- nap seven men, to klill two of them, and leave no traces of murder. Only the Gray Ghost would not waste his timé with poverty-stricken actors. * Kk k ¥ PELHAM laughed at himself; wherever he turned he saw the mocking countenance of the Gray| Ghost. And it was while he sneered at himself that slim Dickenson, his friend and man of all work, ushered |into his living room one of the ele- vator boys whom Pelham had inter- viewed earlier in the day, The boy, an undersized gamin of the streets, with a hard mouth and bold eyes, was in a fever of excite- ment. hat guy Ferry-—the seen him half an hour ago ham. In a taxi, shootin’ across 4 street. I got another taxi. I lowed him until he stopped in front of a house on East Tist street. I got out of my car half a block down the street. 1 told my taxi man to Keep an eye on the other machine, that was still standing in front of a house. I ducked into a drug store on the brother. I tells him not to care wbout expense. In five minutes he drfves up in an- other taxi. I describes Ferry to him, gives him all me loose change, and tells him if Ferry come out to follow him to Chicago if he has to. Then I beats it down here to you.” Pelham eyes the youngster. much are you paid as ele Eighteen berries a wee the boy. 2 “And Pelha “Daniel Boyd," answered the boy “Twice eighteen You're working for me weekly salary to start Young Boyd grinned impu. him. ' “I'll be getting seventy-two this time next month, if you know a good man when you see him,” he said Pelham smiled; then his eyes grew eager. “What's the address of the house that Ferry entered?” he asked. The boy told him. Bewilderment appeared in Pelham's eves. Then, bidding young Boyd follow, he raced downstairs, out of the building and into the taxi waiting for Boyd. He ordered the man to drive to the cor- ner of 71st street and Madison ave- nue. There he alighted, but there was no trace of Boyd's brother or of the tdxicab which had brought Ferry to this meighborhood. So Pelham, bidding his new employe to wait there until his brother returned, and commanding him then to come at once to his apartment, returned there himself. One hour later Boyd and a small editiofi of himself came to Pel- ham. The younger boy, whose name was George, burst into his story. “The guy Dan told me to lay for came out about three minutes after Dan left. I followed him to No. — Madison avenue. From there I fol- lowed him to No. — East 33th street. Then he went to two houses on 5th avenue, one on Grammercy Park and another on Washington Square. He stayed a few minutes at this house and then came out. Last he drove to the corner of 16th street and 3rd ave- nue. He got out of his taxi, paid agent! I Mr. Pel- nd o1- “How tor boy replied v what's your name?" asked C., JANUARY 20, 1924—PART | the driver and walked to a house on | Stuyvesant Square. He opened the front door with-a latch key, so I figured that was where he lived and I was safe to leave him. I got an- other taxi and beat it up here. Me brother Dan is working for you. Am 12" “You are,” said Pelham. ‘“At the same salary. Now give me the num- bers of-those houses again.” The boy handed him a dirty plece of paper on which he had written the numbers. Pelham nodded commenda- tion and went to the telephone. He called up Mr. Robert Bleakie, and a moment later was talking to that gentleman: “Mr. Bleakie, John Wilkie lives on Gramercy Park, and Wil- liam Smathers lives on Washington square. Please tell me the n‘a.muV and addresses of four other friends of your partner who are also col- lectors of precious things.” “Tom Bartholomay lives at No. — [ Fifth avenue. Sam Harding lives two doors from him. Phil Riley lives at No. — East Thirty-ninth street, and Ben Thompson at No. » Madi- son avenue, What's the idea” Pelham's laugh was excited. “I'm not sure, but—your partner told me that Wilkie and Smathers were sell- ing thelr colléctions. Can you tell me if the other four are doing the same thing?” “They are,” replied Bleakie. “And their business assoclates are as wor- ried as I am. They refused to see their friends, just as Tom Horton re- fused to see me.” “Tell them to quit worryin, Pelham. And then he hung up. * % % said ENICE contributes exquisitely em- over the telephone with Jerry Tryon, and ten minutes after that he was standing on a corner of Stuyvesant Square remote from the {house that Ferry had entered. He had hardly left his taxi when Jerry, accompanied by half a dozen of his operatives, descended from a big limousine. Two other cars followed, and in all there were twenty men in the group which Pelham led across the square. A few doors from the house which was their objective, Pelham paused. “Jerry,” he said, “I'm acting on the wildest sort of theory. Either there are seven multimillionaires im- prisoned in thgt house, or there are not. In the labter case, we may pay ! an unwilling visit to the police court. {1t 1s no light offense to batter down the doors of a respectzble private house. And if I'm mistaken, the laugh that will go up—" “We've been laughted at a lot al- ready, Mr. Pelham,” replied Jerry mly. “Let's g “Beneath their overcoats four of the tives carried axes and crowbars. The door of the house which Ferry had entered gave way in thirty sec- onds, Pelham had been tricked be- fore; this time there were men in the yard behind and on the roofs of the adjacent buildings. Of the | twenty-four men that were in the building not one escaped. And seven of them did not wish to escape. These seven were Tom Horton and the other multimilliogaire collectors, who had suddenly decided to simplify lifs by getting rid of the treasures which they had spent their lifetime in collecting. “I said you could write your own check, and I meant it" said Mr. Robert Bleakie. He wrote his name in the right-hand corner of a check, and pushed the paper over to Pel- ham, “And I said that your words were sweetly sympathetic. I find your ac- tions equally so. I have already col- lected ten thousand apiece from six vietims. Ten thousand more will just about make it right,” said Pelham. Mr. Bleakie lighted a cigar. “And if you care to tell me just how you doped it all out, you may make it ieleven thousand” he remarked. “I'll do it for nothing,” smiled Pel- ham. E “There was a coincidence in seven men deciding to sacrifice fabulously valuable collections at the same time,” he began, “but the coincidence did not seem important to me until another coincidence was brought to my atten- tion. : That’ was ‘the strange disap- pearance! of seven character actore. saKidnaper And still T dld not put the two things together. I did so only when a man whom I believed responsible for the disappearance of the seven actors paid a visit to the house of your partner, Tom Horton. Then I began to have a glimmering of the scheme. “The glimmering became the dazz- 1ling rays of sunshine when I learned that this man—his ostensible name was Ferry—had pald other visits to the homes of six wealthy men, two of | whom I already knew to be collectors who were disposing of thelr proper- ties. You told me that the others were doing the same thing. Of course, what I considered sunshine might have been moonshine, but—it wasn't. Ferry was the commander visiting his troops. “I found, within the house that Ferry last visited, all of the rich col lectors. The actors had been kid- nzpufi because they could imperson- ate mil been kidnapped In order to make way for the actors who would impersonate them and sell their property.” “But who could have englneered such a thing?” cried Bleakie. “Ferry blazenly, admits that the Gray Ghost is his employer. So do the other men. And, as usual, they don’t know where he 1s, and if they did they wouldn't tell.” “But how could he know that the actors would consent to turn crim- inals? asked Blealkie. “Fear works wonders,” answered Pelbam, dryly. *“The Gray Ghost had planted his own men as eecretaries and valets i{n the households of his victims. He spends a year in plan- ning, if need be. The actors knew that if they disobeyed they would be killed. Septen tried to betray his captors. He was killed. So was Swinburn. It was pretended that the men whom they impersonated were 7 lionaires. The milllonaires had | elck in bed, and the sales at the. houses stopped. But the cther actors, learning of what had happene to Septen and Swinburn—the latt was drugged, then pushed in front & train—were 8o frightened that the offered no further resistance.” “What will be done to the act asked Bleakie. othing,” sald Pelham. ¥ the promise of all concerned as re gards them. If the millionaires sub mitted, to save tifeir lives, to the dignity of being kidnaped, why shou! they wish to punishmen who ylel@ed “I think, young man, that you au« a remarkable detective.” replied Pelham, bi terly. *If I were half as good detectlve as the Gray Ghost is crook, I'd be the greatest man In 1 REACTION had come, Le till in the depths of desp: when he reached his apartment. hade served millions by his quiclk derstanding of the situation. But & his victorles wers half victories. I could prevent the Gray Ghost fro: reaping his full profit, but that wa all. The great criminal alwa gained eomething. And never coul Pelham lay his hand upon his gres opponent. “I? once again I could meet ki face to face,” he said to himself. As though-n answer to his whis pered speech the telephone rang. H answered it and thrilled as he recog nized the icy tones. “Mr, Pelham, you have interfered for the last time. Within the De: week I am going to kill you with m own hands. That was all. Peliam would mees hie great opponent face to face. (Copyright, 19%4.) 3 How World Has Gained By Fortunate Accidents S necessity or accident the mother of invention? The old adage would lead us to belicve that it was necessity, but accldent has indeed blaved a large part in many of the inventlons which have added to our industrial wealth and to the | pleasures and conveniences which have meade our lives more comfort- able. Not infrequertly an invention has been suggested by some trival event which would have passed un- noticed had not @ man with eves and brains seen it. It was an accident that gave us the telephone. Dr. Alexander Bell twisted a screw one-fourth of & revo- lution and thereby gave us one of the marvels of aj ages, but he had no idea at the time what it meant. Dr. Bell was by training a scientist and was at the time seeking some method of mak- ing speech visible by means of light flashes. He was working with a con- trivance another man had invented With the idea of carrying speech to a distance by means of an electric cur- rent and & wire. The current used was {ntermittent—that 1s, jumped 2 space and was therefors not continu- ous. When Dr. Bell turned the screw he closed the gap and made the cur- rent constant, which is the principle of the telephone. He did not realize the value of what he had dome untii he was demonstrating to some friends that he could talk from the garret to the cellar. The next morning in order to protect his discovery he went to the patent office and procured a patent on his invention. At 3 o'clock the same day another man appeared and sought a patent for an invention with the same idea. The difference of a few hours lost him a hundred million dollars. It was accident that put George Westinghouse on the track of his chief inventfons While on a railway journey he was importuned by a poor woman to buy a magazine. He read in it en article describing a com- pressed air borer used in a mountain tunnel, which gave him a clue to his asutomatic air brake. Senefelder, the inventor of lithog- raphy, was a jack of all trades and an engraver and printer. He was working at etching on copper when the coppersmith refused to let him have any ‘more plates unless he pald cash for them, and it was then he tried to utilize the old plates by rub- bing off the etchings with a soft lime- stone. After the copper befame use- less through many rubbings he tried etching on the stone. One day he was polishing off a stone which he in- tended to etch when his mother asked him to write the laundry list, as the laundress was waiting. Not finding abit of paper or ink at hand, he wrote the list on the.stone with printing Ink prepared from wax, soap and lamp- black, {ntending to copy it at leisurc. A few days later, when he was about to wipe the writing from the stone, he wondered what the effect would be of writing with the prepared ink on the stone, if it should be bitten in with aquafortis. He bit away to about the hundredth part of an inch, took several impressions of the writing and the ert of lithography was dis- covered. One day~the children of a Dutch spectacle maker had some of the spectaclés in front of his door, play- ing with them, put two of the largest glasses together and peeped through them. To their surprise, the weather- cock on the church across the way was brought close to their eyes. Showing the strange sight to their father, he set to work and constructed a curious toy. Galileo, hearing of this toy which made distant things appear closs at hand, say at once what a valuable aid it would be in studying the heavens and set to work and soon 'made the telescope. Daguerre was careless enough to inheritance and | ! he had treated with iodine. e no- ticed that the fmage of the spoon was | retained and thus by accident: learned |that a plate so treated was sensitive [to light. He laid ore of his silve | plates which had been exposed to ¢ camera-image in a cupboard with va rious chemicals overnight and found the morning a perfect image de veloped, thus discovering the effect jot vapor of mercury on a sensitive |plate. A railway pointsman, who had attend fo two signal stations somme aistance apart, decided to save himi gelf the trouble of walking to fro between them, so hie fastened tk " two levers together with a long plec of wire. A broken iron chalr servec as a counterweight, and the wire | ran on into his hut, where he sat a |nfeht and worked the two signal without setting his foot outside. When the railway offiefals found out they reprimanded him, but at the same time rewarded him for his it genuity and adopted his invention f Bath towels were accidentally dte- covered by a towel manufacturer whose machinery got out of order and tangled the threads intended foy a smooth product. After readjusting his machine, the man picked up tha spoiled material, wiped his hands o it and found it more effective tha: the smooth, so he patented it an made a machine which would tangl the threads. It was through the casual use o waste that we have blotting pape: Careless workmen In a paper mi omitted the size from some pulp an the result was a parcel of pape thrown aside as waste. Some onc picked it up to write & note on it an. discovered its absorbent qualities and stralghtway blotting paper was in vented. The use of etiff collars § the mental alertness of smith's wife in Troy, N. somewhers about the year washing her husband's shirts, whick, according to custom, had the collar: fastened to them. It occurred to het that' the shirt stayed clean longer than the collar and she made some separate collars. Her nelghbors soon found out about them and she sold them some. Before many years sev- eral collar-making companies wor- doing a good business. Violin Vibrations. GOP\HAT force least expocted doe the greatest damage to build- inge?" The answer made by an archf- tect may be a surprise to those who do not understand that it is the reg ularity of vibration that renders i powerful. There have been instances wher the walls of stone and of brick struc- tures have been seriously affected b the vibrations from a violin. ©f course, these cases are unusual, buu- the facts are established. The vibrations of & violin are reai- 1y serious in their unseen, unbounded force, and when they come witl regularity they exercise an influenco upon structures of brick, stone or iron. Of course, it takes continuous playing for many years to loosen masonry or to make iron brittle, but it will do it in time. The architect mentioned says that he has often wondered what the re- sult would be if a man would stand at the bottom of u nineteen-story Ilght-well on the first floor of ths great Masonic Temple in Chicago and- play there continuously. The result could be more easily seen there than almost _anywhere else, because tho vibration gathers force as it sweeps upward. One can feel the vibrations of w violin on%an iron-clad ocean vesse), and at the same time be unable to hear the music. It is the reguiarit that.means so much. Like the con- stant dripping of water, which wears laway a stone, the incessant vibration of the violln makes its way.to thé ! -~ lay a silver-spoen upon a plate thut walls and attacks. their soll A