Evening Star Newspaper, August 17, 1924, Page 60

'THE SUNDAY FIBER By RICHARD WASHBURN CHILD Zlustrated by J.G.Stephenson TRDAHL houlders; they the most beau- ISTINTA famed for h. were said to be tiful shoulders in America. Justinia married Simms-Vane, whose name will always stand for a vast fortune in merchandising. He died over 20 years ago. To her John Simms-V world and she never recovered from the shock of his death. For nearly two decades she has been a hopeless paralytic, “As one bends over her to listen to her voice, seldom more than a whis- per, one can smell the faint perfume of a withered id one of her attendants. inert—like a faded flower. Miller the Hawk began to take an interest in Mrs. Simms-Vane from the rainy evening when Thomas ¥ord, a discharged worker at the Fifth Avenue branch of Downing et Cie, jewelers. of Amsterdam and Lon- don, was tolled into the rathskeller on Fourteenth Street, known as “The Grotto was ne was the that tiie assistant cashier of the trust company had discovered what ap- peared to be an alteration In a check given to Barrabas, the fruiterer, that $200 was involved and that she had -n asked to go immediately to the down towre offices. “You will have to stay upstairs in Mrs. Simms-Vane's room,” she told Lucille. “There will be nothing to do for her, and in spite of the down- pour she will probably insist upon taking her daily ride at 4. By that time probably I shall return.” “Very good, Miss Jones," said Lu- clile. “I'm very sorry you are troubled.” At 2:28 the English spinster left the Simms-Vane mansion, and de- scending the steps walked southward down the Avenue toward the cross- town car line, bent with all serious- ness upon her empty errand. Lucille, rom the invalid’s room, watched her dark-green umbrella mingle with the moving black groups of umbrellas above the ‘wet pavement. When she turned back to look at Mrs. Simms- Vane the old lady had shut her eyes. “Rut the Simms-Vane neckl as interesting a prece as one would wish to see” said Ford. trying to upon The Hawk. “It's only once in @ veur or two we get a chance te ce the Thirty-three. as we call it. The old dame is p: Iyzed so iff that they she as blown but she still has her whims and one of them is to keep a forty-thousand-dollar trinket where she can sce it every day. She has it in a bax right in her owa room all the time. The story goes that her husband gave it to her on her 33d birthday. and it ternates blue- white and canary st in a setting done by Boitard. There's a piece of sentiment for you! Thirty-three stones like them arownd an invalid's room s if the were a string of horse chestnuts! d; What a comedy! It took The Hawk five montk ant Lucille Galliene in th Vane household. The process quired that he a dancer at one of New York's gilded ! is cafes and that he slide down the lad-, der of social distinction to the posi- | tion of chauffeur. So did he make | the acquaintance und gain the good- will of that particular employment | agency which furnished the servants | to the Vane establishment. He had | had too high a regard for his own | liberty to taking the “inside of | & job” himself. Therefore he intro- duced to the employment agency the pretty young Lucille, who, by her de- mure manner. her clear-blue ey and pointed, well-kept fingers, w able to make a able impression In fact, the impression was so good that Lucille had difficulty in avoiding the places offered to her during the delay which preceded the marriage and retirement from service of the parlor maid at the Simms-Vane man- sion. { Lucille Galliene. an orphan. had been the accomplice of a fashionable milliner. The Hawk said to her: “Any girl who has been used to sell two dollars’ worth of junk in the | form of glue, straw and dressmakers scraps for 3% iron men has a record, already.” This was a vear after The Hawk's careles: affectionate | ways and Lucille's spirit, courare | and eternal opening-flower fresh- ness of appearance had made the two seem indispensable to each other. The Hawk was over 30 and appeared | as 20, Lucille was over 25 and ap- | beared as 17. Furthermore, when The | Hawk had said as he had often said | to others: “You are the most beau- tiful toy in the world,” the Galliene girl had sniffed at him and =aid: “I am no toy. mon cher. It's to be pals and an honest-to-goodness wedding or you can fade.” This was a new expericnce to Miller: he liked it. He was a bit tired of his own vanity. *ox ok % 'HEN the 25th day of September had dawned. Lucille had acted as parlor maid at the Simms-Vane house for more than two weeks. She had had no meetings with Miller, her re- ports had come to him by mail; he considered them masterly even though the news they transmitted in a rough code was disappointing. Lu- cille described the interior of the house, the timid character of the “old dodo™ who, as bulter and factotum, had served for a quarter of a cen- tury; the personality of Miss Jones, an English girl, overeducated, fond of poetry and stupid, who was the companion and attendant of Mrs. Simms-Vane; the servants below stairs; the complete absence of any small vapping dogs, and, finally, her own failure to find any trace of the famous Thirty-three. Miller had hoped that Lucille could get.the Thirty-three and thus save him from all risks to himself. He believed he could count upon finding cover for her in Chicago until after the robbery had “grown cold.” and he was certain that his hold upon her affections was such that when the time came he could go to her and find that the thirty-three stones were still in her possession. That she had failed even to gather a single clue as to the place where old Mrs. Simms-Vane kept the necklace was unfortunate indeed. The Hawk sighed and in a scrawling hand wrote in the back of a souvenir post card, “Mother is worse. I'm going to a matinee this week. Lov- ing the Galliene girl met The Hawk ithis message perfectly. The follow- ing afternoon during the hour when her new mistress was taking her air- ing the Galliene girl met the Hawk at the hairdressing shop of Edenese Soulier, formerly Minnie Mulvey, a &irl of two lone virtues—that of hav- ing no disclosed curiosity and that of infinite silence. The first question Lucille pro- pounded did not concern in any way the matter at hand. She said sul- lenly: “Have you had Minnie to lunch or dinner?” “Not in a thousand years,” replied The Hawk. “You had somebody out?" “No, I'm going on the level. I haven't even looked at anybody. It takes fiber to go straight. Have I got fiber or haven't 1? I ask you.” “You got it, Jack—what did you say?’ “Fiber—the stuff a man or woman is made of. What's the matter— Jealous again?’ “Why wouldn't T be?” she clenching her little pink hands. l"?l everything I got on you, haven't “Well, you can play it for all it's worth,” he sald, “It's fate. You are my destiny. This job is going to take the both of us; I'll have to come to the scene myself. Thursday, the bulter—Hines you call him—is off. ‘Well, then—listen.” Lucille - listened. Shé fixed her large blue eyes upon the hypnotic dreamy gaze of The Hawk and as a result of her listening shortly after 2 o'clock on Thursday- she waited near the telephone in that wainscoted hall which had been one of the first, if not the first, interior to be taken from an ancient chateau in Normandy and reconstructed in an American home. She waited there expecting a call and the call came, * k x X 'AT 2:10, according to Miss Jones, Lucille came to her and said that vrittle | give up his labors as ! | She | taken in you you. sir—will you kindly step back three | the Merchants and Dry Goods Trust Company were calling from _their main banking offices in Nassau street. ‘Mise Jones, among her other duties, had charge of the domestic manage- ment and accounts and it was she who, as attorney for Mrs. Simms- ‘Vane, signed the checks; when she came from the telephone she told La- cille that she was muoh disturbed, At a little after 2:30, Miller, The Hawk. wearing a conservative black raincoat, came up the steps, and hav- ing pressed the button which is cen- tered in the familiar grinning bronze face at the Simms-Vane front door, stepped within the large vestibule. Mrs. Simms-Vane opened her eyes. “The bell,” she said to Lucille in her faint, muffied voice, “Hines is not here. I think “Very good, ma'am,” plied. I will go." The room in which Mrs. Simms- Vane had spent S0 many years was formerly the library; the old lady chose to live in it hecause her hus- band had spent here many hours. It had not been altered much in the passage of time. It was a large room with a massive carved table in the middle; and the two brass candle- sticks from Granada, which had been Lucille re- kum-nl by Simms-Vane every evening, when, with his Justinia blooming beauty, he had “talked over the as he had called it and smoked his after-dinner cigar, were still standing upon it. The mechanical chair in which Mrs. simms-Vave sat had been turned to- ‘ward the door leading into the hall. was able to see the pair who appeared there, Mrs. Simms-Vane stared at the two without a flicker of an_ eyelash. She might have been carved in rock Who is this gentleman, e ashed. hy Lucille>” does he come?” oughn No nonsen, 1 think I understand.” said the old 124y in her even but frail voice. “I tear, Lucille, that we have been mis- That is too bad. which was over- or four steps. I am unable because of my infirmity to turn my head. You must forgive me. 1 'prefer to telk looking into the eyes- i The Hawk stepped in front of the Miechanical chair and met the old lady's nflinching gaze. *That's right, Mrs. Simms-Vane,” fe said. “I think you understand Leave that door open. Lucille 2 of the servants come for anything go out and send them off. Tell them this lady's asleep.” He walked to the extension tele- phone set upon the table and with his open jackknife severed the green cord, Now, Mrs. Simms-Vane, we're alone. 1 came for the Thirty-three and you're going to tell me where it is.” HE ol old lady smiled. There was movement in her or about her except the almost imperceptible stir of the lace about her neck and at her cuffs. “You made a mistake to come here,” she said softly. “It is true that I am a helpless invaiid, and cannot call out for assistance, but there is that which will cause you to fail—you shall have a disaster.” Lucille stared at her. The old lady's words sounded like a sentence ronounced by an impartial and un- emotional judge. “You may call on Go man, “That's what you mean. My nerv® is good for that stuff. “Hers is not,” said Mrs. Vane. The Hawk turned toward Lucille and saw that she was breathing a little fast. “It's a lie!” cried Lucille passionate- ly. “The old fossil!” The little slow smile passed once again across the face of the old lady. “I did not refer to Divine assist- ance,” said she. “You will fail, my dear young people, because you are not made of the stuff which succeeds. Your birth and breeding are held in absolute contempt by me, because I see that you are made of the base metals. You are unrestrained, pas- sionate and vulgar. This is the rea- son I think you make a mistake to come into conflict with one who was the wife of Mr. Simms-Vane. At the very outset you, sir, made a mistake. You disclosed that you did not know where the necklace was laid away.” Miller threw his wet raincoat on the floorbut d1d not take off his hat. He had listened to her with curlous in- terest, fascinateéd perhaps by the brightness of the eyes which glowed like the warmth of eternal youth out from their setting of ashes and age. “You are not very clever your- self,” he said with a leer. “You've admitted that the Thirty-three was in this room.” He stepped out of her line of vision and she heard the drawer of the writ- ing-desk opened and the sound of papers tossed about. “Will you trust in one who never has broken her word to ane one?” came the voice of Mrs. Vane again. “Suppcee I promise to reward you both to the full. The necklace is the most treasured possession I have. It is not because of its money value but sneered the Simms- because my husband gave it to me [* when we were young and very happy,| that I will not have it taken from me.” 5 The Hawk gave a coarse laugh. “Listen to her!” exclaimed Lucille. “Then look out for yourselves,” the old lady said. “I warn you." Miller walked back until he stood in front of her. He had taken from his side-pocket a little ugly-looking automatic and he thrust the muszzle of it into her face. thing hid?" he “Where's the growled. Mrs. Simms-Vane shut her eyelids slowly and slowly opened them , what folly, my mistaken young man!” she sald. “Do you be- lieve that I fear that you will pull the trigger? Can you not see how beautiful that would be for me? But 1 forget myself. It is too much to hope. After all, you are only a bad sportsman, too cowardly to kill and only brave enough to lie and steal and polson poor young fools like pretty little Lucille. You would not shoot me, because that would make a noise and you could not g0 on-with your search. I cannot hope that you will pull that trigger.” * % % % 'HE rain slapped against the long windows and Lucille moved one foot a little on the hardwood floor. “You're a tough old nut,” sald Miller, “Thank you, sir,” replied Mrs. Simms-Vane. “That is very kind.” “Pull out the books, girlie,” the Hawk commanded. ‘“We've got to finish this whole room. Go through it systematic and fast and look'in | did T tell you? *tll do the talking.” said The Hawk | And | the vases. Remember, she was ‘laid away.' That's the cus He began to examine the tea-table beside the invalid's chair; from this he went again to the writing-desk, tossing papers and boxes onto the floor; he opened -and emptled the drawers, he moved ornaments on the mantel above the fireplace. In the corner of the room he found a teak- wood cabinet in which ore drawer was locked, and this he splintered open with the end of a pair of steel pliers. He had left his revolver on the table while he made his round and while Lucille pulled down the rare editions which lined the walls and peered behind them on the shelves, and now he came back and stared down at the little weapon of death and bit his lip. He raised his eyes at last and met the gaze of Lucllle. The girl had lost her usual color, her face was desperate and drawn and this appeared to anger him. The room was a welter of dis- order, and suddenly his face went in- to disorder too. It was as if his mask had slipped down and exposed the real man who lived behind it. “Time wasted’” he growled with an oath. “It's rough work, but it's &ot to be done.” He stepped toward the motionless old Iady and closed his hand over one of her white wrists. Her fingers moved a little. “Huh! There's feeling in hand,” he said. “1 thought Where's the necklace?" o answer was glven him. He slipped the toothed jaws of the pliers between her thumb and forefinger down upon the soft flesh in the crotch of her thumb and closed the steel upon i “Better tell,” whisper. The old lady closed her eye “Better tell,” he repeated. Lucille shuddered as she saw that he was now squeezing the pliers in his tightening grip. “Curse you!" sald he. “Out with it! Where's the necklaceT™ i “That is painful, young man,” saiq “But I have suf- shall not tell this 80 he said in a hoarse Mrs. Simms-Vane. fered much pain. 1 you Stop! Stop!” exclaimed Lucille. > blood is coming! She won't tell. crushing the flesh. Stop! T she has weakened,” said the opening her ey “What 1 said you were both made of inferior stuff.” “This French doll of yours, sir, was willing to see you torture an old lady who cannot move, and vet a few drops of red make her cry out. What a pair you are! You are all boastfulness and| bragging, but vour nerves are made of shoddy The Hawk pocket, and, sneered. “Don’t!" the girl said. at me like that!” “Why not? The old dame is right.” * x ok * in his| Lucille, put the pliers looking = at “Don’t look AR a in some distant hall in the great house there sounded the soft chimes of a clock. “It's three,” said Mrs. Simms-Vane. “I ordered my hot milk for three.” lmner wheeled toward the Galliene girl . “Somebody will bring it up?’ he asked. “I suppose so," suilenly. dered it. mine.” “Quick, then, Lucille answered “I suppose so, if she or- Your guess ix as good as he commanded. “Go | down and say she sent you for hot milk. Quick! Leave the door open I'll take another look for the thing.” Mrs. Simms-Vane waited until she heard the sound of the girl's step fade away, and then she said: “I woyld not waste my time look- ing in those drawers, young man. Come here and stand in front of me. Perhaps I will tell you what you wish to_know.” The Hawk found himself once more looking into the bright eyes. “You are a handsome young man,” said the old lady. “And you may be surprised to know that I respect you for your willingness to take any step necessary to gain your ends. I do not know, young man, whether you are a gentleman or not. But Napo- leon was not a gentleman. When 1 was a young girl I would have been attracted by you. I have always been attracted by ability wherever it said the Hawk contemp- tuously, but he pulled oft his hat and threw it onto the table. He had a high white forehead and he felt it gave him an alr of distinction. “It is not pleasant to have you here,” sald she, gazing at him. I cannot help admiring the boldness |’ you have shown. It is too bad that young men of your magnetism and Rower should throw themselves away on such worthless young women. Lu- cille—pah! Why, sir, did you see her cringe? A pretty face—that's all, and you are infatuated with her. You who could win and conquer wom- en far above the shopgirl class. Did 1 say you were lacking in—" “Fiber?” he asked. “Yes—fiber. 1 was wrong. But she—that silly little maid—what has she to attract you? She may cost you forty thousand dollars in the next fitteen minutes.” “How's it figured?” he asked, le: ing forward. “I don’t trust her,” said Mrs. Simms- e. “I could trade with you.” rade?’ asked Miller. “Did it occur to you that forty thousand dollars is very little to me? If 1 spent it, it would be charged to my heirs, my good sir. I would will- ingly send you a check for that amount if you would go away. But it is too much to ask that you take my word. 1 could take yours, however. ut not if Lucille were involved in it. distrust her. The stones my hus- band gave me he picked out himself with his own eyes. I love them most of all material things. I would not trust them to her.” * % % x 'HE Hawk looked over his shoulder toward the door. He was alert again. “How's that again?’ “Talk faster.” “I cannot, id Mrs. Simms-Vane. “I meant that if I could trust you— and you alone—with the necklace to keep it until we could arrange for me to buy it back from you, I would pay you more for it then than its ap- praised value—twenty-five per cent more.” “Where is it? I'd do that. I'd take & chance on that and plan it out later,” urged the crook. “Where's the Thirty-three?" “I fear the girl. You are enamored of her,” complained Mrs. Simms-Vane. “You love her, and a man in love is not to be trusted. What fools you men are! Twenty thousand dollars is a high price to pay for this cheap little creature’s favor.”\ “I don’t have to pay it,” he. sald, ‘“‘unless she knows I've got the spar- klers, Then I would, because she's a little wildcat and she’d squeal” “You mean, young man, that you would not reveal the fact of your having the necklace to her?” asked Mrs. Simms-Vane. “You would give me the chance to purchase back the diamonds from you? You would promise to take nothing else from this house?” “What elst is there?” he asked. § Well, | tastened STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, AUGUST 17, 1924—PART 5. HE SLIPPED THE TOOTHED JAWS QF THE PLIERS DOWN UPON THE SOFT FLESH. Then suddenly she heard a soft whis- per in her ear. “Do not show any surprise, Lucille,” said the muffled voice of Mrs, Simms- Vane. “Keep looking at the milk. You have a little fool. ‘He has the necklace. 1f you show him you know it he will kill you. Don’t movs The girl's niouth closed. Mrs. Simms. Vane heard Lucille's pretty white tecth snap together. s it dirt in my milk”" the mistress said aloud and complaining. “Look again. What are these specks?’ I trying to said Lucille sharp'y, bending over agin. “You are trying to make a fool of m “No, no,” ‘came_the voice. “He has the diamonds. The necklace without the stones is in the waste-basket. The revolver—ah, my dear Young woman— the rvevolver—it is on the table. Poor little fool you are!™ Sut the glass of milk sKpped from le's grasp and fell onto the | floor with a crash. The girl ran quickly to tiie waste-basket and io from her throat rose a cry of grief which fell into z The Hawk ju “You got if, you dog with hate. Miller glanced at the short, ugly automatic pistol was resting and made a rush for it. The girl, like a cat, sprang forward and it was she and not he who snatched it up. “Stand back now, you dog, you dog. you dog!" Lucille barked from her dry throat. “You double-crossed me After 1 loved you so! “Listen, girlic,” whined the Hawk “Listen! It's all right. The old lady “has framed us. 1 love you, girlic | You get your share. This was the | only way 1 had of getting the neck- lace, dear. It was all for you. Lucille was shaking from head to foot. Mrs. Simms-Vane's voice came muf- fled ana low but clear. “Oh. Lucy, vou littie fool. The other woman is the one!” The wrist of the Galliene girl stiff- ened, her body settled into tense- ness. “I thought so—you dog'" she whim- pered. “I'm goin to kill you!" In this whimpering voice the Hawk recognized something far more dangerous than rage. The wide- spread fingers of both hands he thrust out in front of him feeling in the air as a blind man feels, for he would not take his eyes from hers. “I love you.” he said. Suddenly the girl, without relaxing, shut her eyes as if the pain in her heart could no longer be borne. At this instant Miller seized one of the heavy brass candlesticks and flung it_with all his power at her body The massive metal object went wide of its mark; it struck Lucille a glancing blow upon the shoulder. You dog,” she whispered and fired three times. The Hawk stagkered until his back struck the wall and here he settled down in a sitting “Forget that.” Lucllle said. s *No, give her the milk,” commanded e s Miller. “She's been game. Il look [ J)OWNSTAIRS there sounded a faint under these drawers and then we're scream and the sound of running through. Give the old dame her milk.” | feet. Lucille held out the tray. The girl looked toward Mrs. Simms- “You forget, my dear, that 1 can't| Vane. The eyes of the old lady were move,” Mrs. Simms-Vane said. *Put|open; the old lips had not changed the glass to my lips. Careful. What's| their expression. that? Dirt? Dirt in my milk. Look| “I said it would be disaster for him closely. Is there dirt in my milk?” | to cross me,” she said slowly. “The Lucille with a gesture of impatience | fiber was lacking. He broke his bent her head over the glass until her [ agreement with me;: he took the little black hair brushed the old lady's face. | stampbox when he thought I could “There is a stamp box on the writ- ing desk. You opened it. I heard its Iid click. It Is of solid gold.” “Gold! That made of solid gold! I'd play straight,” said The Hawk. But how would I know that you J “You would have the word of Jus- tinia Simms-Vane,” the old lady sald. For a long moment the crook stared into her face. “Im no fool,” he said. not with the fuss. lace?” “Come near m “There. g The girl" Where's the neck- commanded the Open the buttons exclaimed The rs it! What stones! What stones!” “Take it quickly! From the neck and shoulders, once famous on two continents, Miller The Hawk took off the famous Simms- ‘ane necklace. He uttered a gut- tural growl of avarice and triumph. “What are you doing?" asked the old lady. He thought her face had grown more ashen than ever. “I'm picking the rocks out of their settings,” he said with a laugh. “It's a way we hav. “What was that noise?” “That was the chain going into the waste basket. I'm not taking ghances with gold.” Al said Mrs. Simms-Vane urely you will do me the favor to button my dress. Lucille—" “Oh. I know, I know.” replied Miller impatiently. ~ But look at them! Thirty-three perfect ones. Bird's eggs! What a handful! Look!" “They are very prett Miller dropped them into his pocket, the two buttons at Mrs, Simms-Vane's throdt and made an awk- ward attempt to adjust the lace collar. She's coming.” said the old lady. “She’s bringing my hot milk. If there is any kindness in you ask her feed it | to me. This has been very hard on “All right,”” whispered The Hawk. ¥I'm supposed to be still looking for the stones. You understand. * ¥ x x E began to pull open the drawers below the book-shelves. Mrs. Vane heard him stop. Beside the door is a heavy oval mirror set in a carving by Schauffer. Reflected in this mirror was the writing-desk and the eyes of Mrs. Simms-Vane fixed upon this mirror saw a hand which reached for the brass stamp-box upon this desk and having grasped it was withdrawn. She sighed and closed her Lucille appeared in the doorway. “I've frisked the room all over again," came the voice of The Hawk. “No re- sult. The old lady has done us.” “‘Look some more,” the Galliene girl urged. “Pull out those drawers below the bookcases and look under them.” Mrs. Simms-Vane opened her eyes suddenly. “I want querulously. bitter she said, red table where the eyes. my hot mik,” she said ed in. Then | not see. And now, my dear young woman, you are a murderess, I fear!"” “No! No!" shrieked the Galliene girl. “Don’t say that! No! No! Save m, “AR!" said Mrs. Simms-Vane. “Do vou know, Lucille, I wonder if you are really bad? I doubt it. I think you should have your chance. Come to me, Lucille. We must hurry. I shall say you defended me. Iam quite able to protect you if you deserve it.” “Oh, 1 don’t deserve it! the girl eried out. “Hush! young m you feel Go put your hand over that heart. There! what do the beating,” breathed “Ah, well—perhaps that is for the best.” Mrs. simmp-\'%v “And now, my 'ear,” she your hand into the young pocket—the left side. Do the gems? Of course, the there. There ought to be “Thirty-three,” said Lucille. “Count each one and drop it into my hand.” said Mrs. Simms-Vane. “Are you sure you have them all? My hus- band gave them to me. You did not leave a singie one?” No, I'm su answered the Gal- liene girl “One—two—three—oh, how wonderful they are! Four— five: There was the sound of feet upon the stone steps and a constant ring- ing of the doorbell. “Fifteen — sixteen — seventeen — cighteen—nineteen—twenty,” counted Lucille. The closed her eves. d. “Put s coat- ou feel re all ringing ceased at last and there followed the clatter of heavy shoes on the stairs. ““Chirty — thirty-one—thirty-two — thirty-three—" “Thirty-three repeated Mrs. Simms-Vane. “Then I have all that my husband gave me back again “All back again,” said Lucille. * x * ¥ WO men, one a patrolman in uni- form and the other in a brown raincoat, stood in the doorway with the white stupid face of Miss Jones peering between their bulky shoulders. “A fine young job!" said the rain- coat man. “Funny I just happened to be coming down the Avenue. Is the old lady safe? Yes. All right. Look at the room. Telephone wire cut too. Some job!" “But look, Inspector!” patrolman, pointing to M had opened his eyes and w: up at them. The inspector bent down and gazed into the wounded man's face. “By the big and little fishes!” gasped the inspector. “Miller the Hawk, or I'm a dead one. said the crook said the iller. who staring Z What an experience for the old lady,” Garrity said, turning toward the motionless invalid. “Excuse me. ma'am. Who shot this man?” “The maid.” replied Mrs. Simms- Vane. “I was added. . “Is that right, ma'am?’ added the Cetective. The Hawk’'s raucous voice 1upted. “It's a lit. The little rat was the inside on this job, Garrity. She shot defending her,” Lucille inter- me because she thought I double- crossed her. We messed it up.” “Oh, how he talks!” cried Lueille in a shrill voice. “I never saw that man before in all my life. Did I, Mrs Vane “My dear young woman, T tried to give you a chance,” said the old lady, closing her eyes again. “You wer his accomplice. I advised the officers rrest you. ou said—you said— Lucille. “You promised— “Certainly,” replied Mr: Simms- Vane. “But in my necklace there ‘were not the number of stones you counted out to me. You kepi one. You naughty girl! The necklace was given to me by my dear husband on my 34th and not my 33d birthday.” ‘Ha exclaimed the Hawk. “That serves the little devil proper. But it's just like her! Look under the hair that® droops over her ears, Garrity, She'll have it in her ear. 1 know her tricks.” “Keep away from me, Lucille. T'll give her the ston She reached under her hat and then threw the diamond into the lap ot | mms-Vane. Ylease take these persons away said the old lady. “And please thank the two gentlemen of the la: “Of course vou will not take your ride today?” asked Miss Jones in a trembling voig. “I believe 1 will,” replied Mrs. Simms-Vane. “Turn my chair around.” The rain had stopped. The first fresh slanting sunlight of clearing weather lit the walls across the Avenue. “Oh, ves, Mis went on. Park.” " gasped narled Jones,” the old lady “It will be pleasant in the (Copyright. 1924.) COW GIVES “COD LIVER OIL” PARIS, August 7. If 1 had a cow and she gave milk T'd dress her in the fiest silk; 1'd feed Ber on the hest of b And milk ber forty times a day. ROF. FERNAND WIDAL of the faculty of medicine of Paris has a cow that deserves still better treat- ment. Last week he told his good fortune with her to the grave mem- bers of the Academy of Sciences. His cow, like Pasteur, is not a medical docter, but a real chemist, doing scientific work for suffering hu- manity. The Widal cow has been induced to give cod liver oil and milk together in one mixed drink. It is a natural cmulsion of the oil and milk, not un- like artificial products that have been used to help the human stomach ab- sorb the healing and strengthening oil. And Nature is kinder to man's poor stomach than his own art can be. Consider the helpless infants who now look askance at the unlovely spoon, the weak-lunged youths .who try to swallow the dose like good sports, and the rheumatic aged who shut their eyes to swallow. If Prof. and Dr. Widal can start a breed of cows like his present heroine, all this trouble will be over. A cup of fresh milk from these cod-livered cows— and there you are. The COWS. 100, prosper, and. what is quite portant, they will always be hygien- fcally fit. How does the French professor make his cow give cod liver oil with her milk in a palatable and assimi- lable emulsion? It is the same process which the Connecticut poet, Joel Barlow, at the close of the American Revolution, declared was producing the now far-flung American girl. “Corn-fed nymphs,” he cried, and narrated the process as “Hasty pudding with cooling milk.”” For himself he said: What though the generous cow gives me to quaft The milk nutritious: Am I then a calf? No, nor a cod nowadays, for it is the special chemistry of Prof. Widal's cow to disguise the oil with her milk in one natural fluid, blending the food and the medicinal values of both. Where the French doctor got his first idea is not stated, but I tasted long ago an accidental application of it in the south of France. There garlic grows for the consumption of men and women and children. They crush the tender heads into an egg sauce and call the result “garlic cream.” One day I drank my usual cup of unmixed cow’s milk and found that she had got at the garlic bed. On her own, she had gone the cook one better and invented garlic milk. In America I remember to have heard a love song: Polly, the cows are in the cora! To w{uch the irreverent answer ‘was made: The corn 18 in the cows. The consequence Which every, farm- er knew was this same Widal process. In California it might well result in a Melba peach sauce; in New Jersey, aspar: s, unless the cows—— Xn. acre's the rub. Pr‘ot. mn:'::! scrupulously calls it an “inve and :ot a “discovery,” yet here he met the first opposing doubts of the scientific academician: Said the professor: “I have found a way to feed cod liver oil to cows 8o that they give milk with all thé me- dicinal value of the oil in a natural emulsion.” Sald the solemn, wise academiclans: *“You mean you have found a cow that will take into her four stom- achs the cod liver oil and it goes through into the milk? How many cows can you find that will swallow cod liver ofl? “You say you have found a way to get them to swallow the oil in their ‘other food, but can you prevent their getting stalled on it? We want to find out how you manage to succeed better with cows than we do with children and patients’ This is what the world will want to know also. Not everybody can make a cow drink cod liver oil and like it or not notice it. It must be far more difficult to measure the quantity and mingle it with other easily assimilable foods which cows like so as to get the desired effect. Prof. Widal has done this for a few cows, and they certainly give a natural emulsion of the oil with their milk. The weak- ling who drinks such milk scon thrives. The invention works. One question remains: “How can this process scale?” “First get your rabbit,” was the: beginning of Mrs. Glass' recipe for rabbit stew. This ought to be ea: The single Breton port of St. Mato has ships bringing home each year from the fishing banks some 50,000 tons of codfish. A corresponding num- ber of cod livers would be left for the oil making in Newfoundland. In the fishing stations themselves a coarse oil is made by a rudimentary process, and it is perhaps this which children and cows do not like. T French go to the Iceland fisheries also, and Norway makes the oil. and there are fleets from many and many other countries. Cod and cows shail ot fail. STERLING HEILIG be applied in a large A Lover’s Artifice BY J. A, WALDRON, APT. PHILIP DISSTON was convalescing in a great house in a famous Paris faubourg transformed into a hospital to accommodate English and American soldiers. . The captain had gone into a lounging room to smoke when a nurse, a late arrival on the staff who had been assigned to him, passed up the hall and glanced in. He beck- oned to her, and she enter. “It was very strange, Mary,” he said, “that we should have met here.” “Very. And fortunate. But our meet- ing was not so strange as your wish that we should seem never to have met before.” “You were keen enough to sense that wish and to preserve your composure when vou first saw me.” “I knew you so well, dear, that T in- terpreted the look you gave me then, although 1 have wondered about it ever since. 1 was impulsed to kiss, you the moment 1 saw you. Do you care to give me your reason now “Not now. I shall let you know in good time. Please don't distrust me.” “Why should 1? Yet you know a woman'’s curiosity is sometimes a com- pelling thing.” “It will be satisfled. But I want you still to keep the secret, and still do as I wish. I may make a strange request at the proper moment.” There was a voice in the hall—the rich, full voice of a woman. The cap- tain seemed excited. “There comes the head nurse,” he continued. “Quick! Put your arms about me in a loving way! Don't ask why! His voice had fallen to a whisper. She was standing behind him, and was too surprised to speak. Yet she did as he had asked, blushing more with ex- citement than with emotion, Miss Roberts, the head nurse, stop- ped at the door and looked in. She was a stately young woman, usually without color, and always with a native dignity that impressed. As she looked color came to her face. She advanced to a small table beside which the captain was sitting, and for a moment looked eloquent reproof at the young woman who had disengaged her arms and was standing with downcast eyes. And there was something else in her mute expres- sion that seemed foreign to her. “Mrs. Danforth,” she finally said, “please leave Capt. Disston with me and walit in the orderly room.” There was a keen tone of rebuke in this order, but Miss Roberts did not follow the rebuked young woman with her eyes as it was obeyed. “This, T need not say, Capt. Disston, is quite reprehensible,” sald Miss Rob- erts when they were. alone. Her face showed a deeper blush. “And you are 1 the last man I should have expected would permit such a violation of the regulations of i which is no place for love-making." “But you were permitting that voung married_woman to show affection for you—a. young married woman—whom you met for the first time three days ago! Do vou realize what this means for her?” SeJf-contained as Miss Roberts had always shown herself to be, she now panted with excitement. “I presume,” replied the captain, “the regulations require that she b dismissed forthwith.” “Yes. There could be no other re- of her indiscretion.” And what is to be done with me, Miss, Roberts?” He had risen, and was smiling. She pervously avoided his glance “There is nothing in the rules, I belleve, Capt. Disston, that applie to a man in such a case. But I had thought you He saw her broke in: “Then I escape! Well, your regula- tions are quite defective. But U has gone far enough in error.” n error?” Yes. Miss Danforth is blamel Blameless! Did I not see- he did as I requested her to do.” “That does not clear the matter or prove error. “She and I have kept a secret. She is my sister, Miss Roberts—married to Lieut. Danforth of my own company. “But why did you not—why did she pretend otherwise?” “I asked her to pretend otherwise.” For what purpose?”’ “Well, the regulations here hav prevented me from doing something 1 greatly desired to do.” don’t understan Not that the rules here are not ad- mirable and necessary. They are, without doubt. But I have been in love with a woman here for weeks and dared not tell her so. Just now [ have an idea she is not averse to me. If T thought she cared for me, this would be the happiest moment i have ever known. After the war, when her duties and mine are fin- ished, no doubt I shall find courage to propose to her.” Miss Roberts went white and then red again, for she could not mistak the look in his e: (Copyright, 1924.) and embarrassment One on Her. He (over the phone)—What time are you expecting me? She (iclly)—I'm not expecting you at all. He—Then I'll surprise you.