Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, January 27, 1900, Page 6

‘get inside that house unknow: The Arnewood Mystery * BY MAURICE H. HERVEY. ‘Somerville’s Crime,’’€‘Dartmoor,” **Maravin’s Money,’’ etc., etc. . : | Author of ‘Dead Man’s Court,”’ ‘ CHAPTER NIT. Billy's Yarn. Mr. Gray's prediction as to the boy's feturn proved wrong; he did not put fin an appearance until 8 o'clock next morning, while I was dr sound night’ The rest in a luxurious cabin, eaptain, principal officers and of the crew were away on leave, under these circumstances, the steward can do pretty w as he pleases. Ce nly, I had nothing to complain of guest of the ship; sich a breakfast as was set before me I have seldom sat down to anywhere. The cook’s boy, a foxy-looking lad of fifteen, was then brought in for exam- ination. He glanced at nu suspicious- Iy at first, but a fair imitation of an enco ging smile and the suggestive fin: of some loose change in my pocket seemed to r ure him. ‘ow, then, Billy, said the steward, fmpressively, “you may talk before this gentleman just as freely though you and I were alone—you understand? Just tell us, as shortly and plainly as % ean, What happened since y ternoon until you reported self this morning. Sit or stand, as you please.” Thus abjured, stand, squared away to his manfully. At st he fixed his eyes lily upon the skylight, anid spoke to make an end of idually warming to ame more confidential Billy, who elected to st as though anxiou the j but his woerk,, and exp of his narrs in shorthand, and these L am therefore enabled to give in his own words. I knowed when I saw Jim Blogg he bec dressed in his Sunday to; as how he wouldn't wait for no dinner aboard, and I just sneaked a sausage and a fump of soft tack out of the galley and ched ‘im. Sure enough, he and tt slipped ashore, just before two and L after ‘em. I guessed they'd begin by a booze, and so they did, at the first pub they struck. ‘Then they went on to another pub called the White Bear, where I ‘spects they had a feed, *cos they was such a bloomin’ long time inside. From behind a dray, Vother side of the road, I saw ’em shake hané und sep’rate. Spratt, he turned back towards the docks, while Jim Blogg. after walkin’ a bit ahead, hailed a tramway and clambered up outside to smoke his pipe. So I just i \ t my eye on the I didn’t know how fur -goin’, so I chanced a pen’orth, others was a-doin’. I had to with another ha’penny, though, afore I saw Jim gettin’ down the com- panion-way. “Where did he get out?’ T inquired. “Just in front of a big pub, painted w hitean’ called the Sheet Anchor, where he went in for another booze, I s‘pose. Then he turned into a narrow, dirty street called Rodney avenue, and ked on so that I had to trot to keep ‘im in sight. He gets over the ground uncommon smart fer a heavy man, does Jim! Presently I sees ‘im turnin’ into a gate, and, when I comes to the spot, I find it leads to a queer- Yookin’ old house, a bit back from tae street and with a pathway up to it. The door was just a-closin’ on Jim as I got up. “J dursn't venture inside the gate by daylight, for fear Jim’d see me, an’ so I just hung around for more nor three mortal horrs, until t'was dark. A cove with ‘ot chestnuts come along. and I ‘ad ’alf a pint off a milkman, so I wasn't bad off for vittles, at leas What worried me was, ‘ow I w Blogg. I thought of all the read of Jack Peace, an’ other s the game waru't the same, They to a job purwided with Way went tools and ladders and all they wanted. ¥ had nothing to help me but my finger ails avd an old jack-knife. “Twasn't fair, nohow. an’ I could only see one ghost of a show. “There was wide, double wooden ‘gate, with a wicket let into it, at one side of the house (leading, as [I sup- posed, to the stables.) Well, just in- side the gafe, and about twelve feet from the ground, was a window: and it struck me that if that window should chance to be unfastened, I need only find some way of reach it to do the trick. So I bought a box of wax matches, in case I should want ‘em, and as soon ‘twas dark enough to prevent a passing copper seeing what { was up to, I made for the wicket. It was only on the latch, and so I goes in. Just as I expected, there was some stablin’ a bit further on, and, groping about, I presently comes across a lad- der such as I've seen ’em use for : lofts. That was right into my hands, im course. I precious soon had it shift- ed to the window, and up I goes. At first I thought I was sold, ’cos, though I dragged at the top sash fur all I was worth, I couldn't budge it an ineh. ‘Then I tried the bottom sash, an’ al- most ‘ollered out with joy when I found if rose a bit under the blade of my knife. Bit by bit I prised it up, until I could .get my fingers under- neath,; and then, with a steady shove, up she went! “You bet I listened pretty carefully ‘ore I ventured inside; but not the faintest sound could I hea nd so, af- ter a bit, in LT went. It was too dark “0 make out anything; but of course, the odds were I in a bedroom, and I had to risk striking a light to find the door. So I lit a match on my pants (it don’t make no noise that way) aud took a lcok around. Lucky for me i did! The window faced on a landing, and I w nding within a yard of a «steep Staircase. I sat down upon the top step and took off my boots, which ‘E crammed into my pockets. Then I braced up and went cown stairs, “In the hall was a small, open nap- -tha lamp, that smoked awful and gave vacarce no light at al) and there were ing after 2! recital | I took down portions | doors on either side, both shut. I | peeped through the keyholes and list- ened, but I could neither see nor hear anything. There was longish pass- age leading towards the back and end- ed in the kitchen stairs. There, at last, IT made out the sound of veices coming from below. “If you'll believe me, that was the first time I began to feel seared. I'd heard and seen enough of Jim Blogg to know that he warn’t exactly the safest man in the world to run foul of, and that, if he caught me a-spin’ on him, he'd make it ’ot for me. Howsomever, I plucked up heart and crept like a ¢ down stairs. There was no light e cept what came from the kitchen, ony. in to the door being a few inches aja but I managed to get i without 1 ing no no’ Two men ; Ww arguing, nd I spotted one ef ’em as Jim by his voice. The other I dirn't recognize. “ain't worth while arguin’ all | night about a thing wot'’s got to be dene,’ Jim was saying. ‘I was prom ised a thousand—I earned the money, j and jolly well mean to have it.’ | “That's right enough,’ said the oth- | er. ‘You've had a hundred and fifty, and you shall have the rest within a week. Can't you understand that the | drafts became useless when the name | of—the man—was discovered? ‘The act- ual hard cash did not, as you know, amount to much—in fact, you got most of it, And it takes time to ri 0? ‘That's none of my business.’ sez Jim, sulkylike. ‘ wants my ’oof and wants to get away, and I don’t want to be choked eff with excuses and ex- planations. See here, mate. You ’pear te take your master’s place all through in this business, and I believe you mean square enough. If I agree to wait till this day week, will you un- dertake to see me paid off, without any more nonsen: Your boss can do it right enough if you keep him up to it.’ ““To be sure he can,’ said the other man, ‘and he'll do it, too. The money will be paid in this very room, at 3 o'clock this day week.’ “That’s a wager,’ growled ‘And now let’s have a drink.’ “Well, they sat there boozing and talking about all sorts of things that I didn't bother my head with, until the elock struck seven, when Jim made up his n:ind to clear, and the other one re- membered he had a cove to see in the West End. This was a straight enough tip for me, and I slipped up stairs to the landing as quick as I could. T drew on my boots, knotted the laces anyhow, and waited, astride the v dow sill, until I heard the door Then I pulled down the window, put the ladder back where [ found it. and bunked after the pair of ’em, They walked together as fur the Sheet Anchor. where Jim went in, but the other one wouldn't. I-got a fair look at him, under a lamp, and at once spot- ted him as the stranger that gave me the letter and the shilling. What was I to do? Follow him, or stick to Jim Blogg? I hadn't much time to make up my mind, but I stuck to the stvang- er for two reasons.” “What were they, Gr enceuragingly. “Well, L felt pretty sure that Jim was on for nothing more than a good old drunk, for one thing,’ was the re- ply. embellished by a vulpine grin, “and, besides, you'd give me money for bs, if necessary. So I felt I could crack on as much steam as he could.” “And did ke take a cab “Why, in course he did; but T didn’t find it quite so easy to get one to take me, und I had to part two shillings afore the cabby would make a start. However, he turned out a real clipper when he did get under way.” “Wotever ‘appens, don’t lose sight of that cab in front, with the grey horse!” I bawled at ‘im, forking out the two bob. “All right, says he. ‘Wot's up? “Don’t know,’ I answers back, ‘cept that the gent in that cab has been playing some game on my sister, and I mezns to find out where he’s going to. I've more ’oof on me, so don’t you worry.” “<‘Oh, that’s his game, is it? says he. ‘ll not lose him, young’un, never fear “Lor! what a drive that was! Pret- ty, too, when we came to where the streets and swell places was all lit up with ‘lectrict lamps. At last we passed out of a blaze of light, where several streets met, into a wide road with a park on one side, and presently the cab in front turned into a gateway. My ‘abby pulled up “‘See here, young’un,’ says he, ‘the bloke yowre after has gone into a Il club, where you can’t follow Jim, mi. Billy?" asked Mr. Can't I? T replies. ‘Well, wait outside for him, anyhow. do I owe you? all it another bob,’ says he ‘You'd ake a Liverpooi Street "bus to get nnd then ask a copper.’ id him the bob, and watched ve off, and then crossed to the side of the road, where there T ean What best back. by oppesite were trees, in order to keep a good eye upon the two gateways that led to the club.” \ “Did you ask the name of the club, Billy?’ I inquired. I had little doubt, from his description, but I wished to be quite su “Ye: it was a club for young offi- cers,” was the reply, “and the street was Picadilly I waited for the strang- er to come out until I was that cold and hungry I could stand it no longer, | For aught I know, he might stop there all night. and I couldn’t ask for him, ‘cos I didn’t know his name. So, long after midnight, I gave it up and went and had a feed at a coffee-stall. Ox course it was’ too late to get back the ship, without parting no end of money for a cab, so I turned into a doss-house for the nigh®. That's about all, gents.” : in earshot | i “And very well you've told your sto- ry,” I remarked, handing him half a sovereign. “Can you describe your stranger to mi “Thark’ee, sir,” said Billy, pocketing the coin, gleefully. “Describe ‘im? Well, he’s a small, rather stout man, with little twinkling eyes and a black maustache. He's got a red mark (a scar, I think) just over his right eye- brow, and he has a queer way of say- ing words over twice. I'd know him again anywhere ” I then had a brief colloquy with Mr. yr, and Bil as bidden to put on. unday best and accompany. me on shere. I wanted to ascertain the ex- act position of the house in Rodney avenue. I told the steward, quite frankly, that I thought his clue would lead to the very best re . and that I had no} hesitation in a ng him to accept £25 on accountdetvhg&so(b shrdlu rdurdit as av earnest of his possible share of | the reward. This pleased him vastly, and he readily undertook that no hint of Billy’s discoveries should reach the police during the ensuing week. I drove Biliy up Rodney avenue, and, haying made sure of the house, sent him back very happy, with yet anoth- er half-sov' n in bis pocket. CHAPTER XIII. A Missing Link. | T had ample feod for reflection dur- | y drive back to the Strand. Blogg | almost to a certainty, implicated | in the decoying of Arnewood, if not, | also, in his murder. So was the myste- rious “stranger,” and so, too, was the other unknown, referred to by Blogg as the stranger's master or boss. Mr Spratt seemed to have merely played ckall, but was probably the engin- adviser and instigator through- ee out. The description given by Billy of the stranger tallied with no one that I knew. Moreover, if ke had a master, he must necessarily himself be a ser- yant of some sor nd could by no pos- sibility be either a member or a mein- ber’s guest of the first-c Service club. Either he v concealing his reai rank, to deceive Blogg, or he had merely called at the club to leave a age for his employer, and had slipped out unseen by Billy. It was strange, though, that the club. shoulda | be, also, Captain Arnewood'’s—very strange. when one came to think of it. Ialmost wished I was still working with Inspector Traill when IT thought out the full strength of the Rodney Av- enue incident. Blogg and the stranger had, indeed, arranged to meet there in in aw 's time—the one to re- . the other to pay £850; but might something occur meanwhile to scare one or both from keeping the ap- pointment? With such evidence as I had to work upon Traill would cer- tainly have the engineer rigidly shad- owed during the interval, if he did not resort ¢o the expedient of having him | arrested upon some more or less triv- ial. trumred-up charge, to make sure | of him. But was I morally bound, on | that account, to invoke Scotland Yard aid once more? This question I an- swered in the negative, to my own sat- isfaction, at all events. If (as Mr. Gray believed) the police had ceased to sus- pect Spratt and Blogg, despite Brad- shaw’s instinctive suspicion of them at first, so much the worse for the official intelligence. It did not occur to me to remember that it was the bathman whom ‘Traill had singled out, and whese every movement was being qui- etly watched, while stolid-looking, gin- drinking Blogg was ignored. Was | Spratt himself aware of it? Most prob- ably he was, and played his game ecrdingly. He was a clever as well as an audacious scoundrel, quite! capable of drawing suspicion upon himself in order to leave his less astute accom- plice a free hand. More a matter of detail than with any expectation of news, I called at the Beresford Hotel, in Convent Garden, A reference to the books showed that no room had been engaged for any Mr. Arnewood—at all events during the past six months covered by the en- tries. But it appeared that, during the latter part of November, the hotel had been exceptionally crowded, and in tending guests had been refused daily Possibly the gentleman I inquired for had been in this Jatter category. usual, vagte and utterly unsatisfact- ory. If Lrke Arnewood had gone to any other hotel, I must trust to the re- ward to bring me notice of the fact. Me ‘hile, Mr. Burton’s well meant suggesticns came to naught, like so ited the Junior Naval and tary Club, in Picadilly, and in- quired for Capt. Arnewood, although I was, of ccurse, well aware that he was in Ireland. “Out of town, sir,” reptied the janitor, “Present address, Shelborne Hotei, Dublin. Good many inquires for him since he left.” “Indeed!” I remarked, seizing my op- portunity. “Do you remember a short, stout gentleman inquiring for him last night at about 8 o’clock?” : es, sir, The party seemed so as- tonished to hear cf Capta’n Arnewood's departure that I think he hardly be- lieved it at first.” It was clear, then, that the mysteri- ous stranger had gone straight from his interview with Blogg te see Cap- tain Arnewood, whom he fully expect- ed to find at his club. Moreover, if ap- pearences could be trusted, the captain must be the “master” who was to sup- ply the £850. The least intelligible part of the affair was that he should have been represented to Blogg as unable to find this sum without borrowing it; but that, after all, might be quite a politic stroke to keep down Blogg’s claim, or a mere trick of the stranger’s to avoid paying away money already intrusted to him. Upon the whole, I could not blink my eyes to the fact that things were beginning to look very black in- deed against my client, and that 1 might yet find myself in the dilemma of having to choose between my duty towards society and my desire to serve him I don’t think I ever felt more worried and perplexed than I did after quitting the club, and I proceeded to Exeter street mere than half-incline@ to com- municate my suspicions to Mr. Hawk- ins, and ask to be relieved of any fur- ther connection with the Arnewood case. Mr. Hawkins, however, had nou yet arrived; and before he did make his appearance a telegram-came which drove all idea of withdrawing from the | inquiry clean out of my mind. It ran; “Heart again queer, and need you urgently. Let affair wait, if need be, but come at once. Reply. —“Arnewood, Shelborne Hotel, Dublin.” ‘ No better solution of my doubts could possibly have presented itself. If Richard Arnewood were, indeed, a guilty man, he could scarcely fail to betray himself under the unexpected and searching questions which it was in my power to put to him If, after all, the evidence which now seemed to tell so heavily against him, should prove to have no reference to him at all, then I would be free to plunge into my task with redoubled energy and confidence. And so, without even wait- ing to consult Mr, Hawkins, I for- waréed the following terse reply: Shall be with you to- All well. “—Weston.” “Very sorry. morrow morning. My chief expre dno opinion, one way or the other, when I showed him Captain Arnewood’s message and 4 copy of my reply. “Do exactly as you please, Weston,” was his comment. “The case is abso- lutely in your hands, and I would rath- er not interfere, even with advice. I want to hear nothing more about the affair until you can tell me either that you have succeeded or have given it up” “Very well, sir,’ I made answer, and the subject dropped. Eight o’clock found me at Euston Station, fortified by an excellent din- ner. and in ample time to select a berth in the sleeping car. I have always ad- mired the sound common-sense of the text which asserts that “the laborer is worthy of his hire,” and, while I pride myself upon doing my very utmost for my client, I deny myself nothing that can contribute to my material comfort when I am on active service. A short, stout man had preceded me at the booking office, and ed for a second- class return to Westland Row. There was nothing remarkable in that, see- ing that the train was the Irish mail, and that Westland Row is the name of the Dublin terminus. But there was something in the speech of the man that at ence riveted my attention. He repeated the words “second-class” four or five times, though he either he- lieved the clerk to be deaf or was frightened of being compelled to travel first-class against his will. I took an opportunity, after securing my ticket, of having a good Jook at him. Bright, beady eyes, a scar near the right tem- ple, his face absolutely clean-shaven; in other words, he answered Billy’s de- scription of the “stranger” exactly, with the exception of the black mous- tache. He was booked to Dublin, and by the cla most always affected by servants of superior station. The plain inference was that his master was in Ireland. So was Captain Arnewood. And it required all my trained habit of caution to avoid the conclusion that they were one and the same person. My first impulse. after satisfying my- self of the identity of my fellow tray- eler, was to follow him into a second- class carriage (at all events, as far as Rugby or Crewe), and endeavor to en- ter into conversation with him. But a little reflection served to deter me from this course. If he were, indeed, the as- tute “stranger” and Captain Arne- wood’s servant rolled into one, he would subsequently recognize me as the individual who had sought his ac- quaintance on the train, and would be suspicicus of me at once. If I had been deceived by a mere accidental resem- blance, and he were some entirely harmless person, I still stood to gain nothing. So I made myself comforta- ble in my Pullman, and left him to his less Inxurious horsehair seat. The journey was as uneveniful as such journeys are nowad. I saw my man on board the packet, and again at Westland Row. where I Jost sight of him. I quite expected that he would precede er follow me to the Shelborne Hotel, but he did not. Whatever his mission in Ireland, his business with Captain Arnewood was apparently not of an urgent nature. Twas told by the people at the hotel that the captain expected me, and had given orders that I was to be conducted to his bedroom as soon as I arrived, It was not yet 8 o'clock, and there was therefore nothing surprising in the fact that he was still in bed. But I was fairly startled by the change that had beer: wrought in his appearance during the brief interval that had elapsed since IT had last seen him. A delicate man with a weak heart may be expect- ed to falt away rapidly when ill; but Richard Arnewood could have looked no worse had he barely escaped with life from some terrible accident. “Thank Heaven, you have come!” was his greeting, as he motioned me to a chair by his bedside. “You remem- ber what I told you about Irish air dis- agreeing with me? Well, I have col- lapsed this time even worse than when 1 was here last month.” “You are certainly looking very poor- ly.” I replied, “though I cannot bring myself to believe that the air of this place is wholly to blame.” “Do you really think not?” he asked, with nervous eagerness. “Tell me-—to what other cause would it occur to you to attribute it?” “I am not ‘doctor enough to say.” T made answer. “I think, though, that worry and mental anxiety would zo a long way: and you will pardon my re- marking that you have impressed me as suffering under some severe mental strain ever since I first met you” “Indeed? You mean on account of my cousin’s tragic fate, I suppose?” “yes,” I assented. “I have thought that was at the bottom of your ex- treme nervous tension. But it fails to acecunt for your sudden prejudice against Ireland.” “Prejudice!” he repeated, irritably. “It’s no mere prejudice, I can assure you. I wish to Heaven it were!” “Then, if the doctors cannot help you, and you really find your system preaking down over here, surely, your wisest course is to return to England at orce. I suppose you will be able to stand the journey?” ine (To Be Continued.) Egss, Likely. Miss Stagestruck—Don’t you feel in- spired when you stand up before a large audience? Haakter—Yes; ard I've stood up before some audiences when I felt oth- er things besides inspiration—Qhio State Journal. .an old bell-shaped ear trumpet, or you PRECIOUS METALS IN THE ARTS Enormons Quantities Consumed in the Varlous Industries. It is easy to ascertain how much gold and silver are absorbed in the coinage of the various nations, but the most careful estimates as to the quantities of these metals used in the arts and industries are only approximate. Stat- isticians in the treasury department of the French government recently un- dertook the considerable task of com- piling the best information on this sub- ject, and the figures they have reached are probably as accurate as any that have yet been published. Most-of the gold used in the arts is for ornamen- tation, though it is also employed to a large extent for the most practical purposes, as in dentistry. It is doubt- ful if even jewelry consumes a larger quantity of gold than some other ways in which it is used. The consumption for gilding alone is very large. The films of gold leaf are very thin, but enormous numbers of them are applied to a considerable variety of manufac- tures, such as_ signs, jewelry, books, frames, furniture, pottery and other articles, and the aggregate value of the gold thus used is very large. The con- sumption of gold for gilding has con- siderably increased since electro-gild- ing came into vogue,both because more gilding is done and also because the new process wastes a_ considerable quantity of the metal. According to the French figures the United -States consumes in the arts about thirty-one thousand pounds of gild in a year, which amounts in value to $10,000,000 in round numbers. France, however, with her prominent manufactures of jewelry and other articles of luxury, | heads the list with an annual con- | sumption of about thirty-five thousand two hundred pounds a year. Great Britain also surpasses the United States with 34,100 pounds, Germany consumes 29,040 pounds, Switzerland 18,900, Italy 11,000, Russia 9,000, Aus- tria-Hungary 6,175, and Belgium and Holland 6,820. Perhaps one reason why the United States consumes in the arts a good deal more silver than any other country is because photography here, with its amateur branch, is far more extensively in use than in any other land. The chief industrial uses of sil- ver are for solid silver plate and silver plating, mountings for harnesses and other ornamentation, and photography. The silver industries in the United States consume over five hundred and fifty-five thousand pounds a year, Ger- many and France about three hundred and thirty thousand pounds each, Rus- sia 209,000 and Great Britain 208,000. THE USE OF ROUGE. Ancient Modes and Degrees of Practic- ing the Art. There were many modes and de- grees of practicing and questionable art and a curious little book exists, writ- ten about a hundred years ago, when popular opinion on the subject was al- ready undergoing modification, by a “lady of distinction,’ whd preferred to remain anonymous, but is vouched for by the editor as especially entitled by position and experience to receive a respectful hearing, which, dealing with the art of costume, includes ad- vice on the proper use of cosmetics, says the Nineteenth Century. By this authority white paint, together with enamel, is unconditionally condemned from the standpoint of morals and taste alike; while, on the other hand, “a little vegetable rouge” is permitted for the purpose of “tingeing the cheek of a delicate woman,” so long as it is not employed for the purpose of de- ception. ‘What need is there, in- deed,” asks the writer, “for any con- cealment in the matter?” “It seems to me,” she continues, “so slight and innocent apparel for the face (a kind of decent veil thrown over the cheek) * * * that I cannot see any shame in the most ingenious female acknowledg- ing that she occasionally rouges. The one article of rouge is, however, the single species of posit'vs art that, ac- cording to this somewhat arbitrary judge, a woman of integrity can per- mit herself, white enamel, painted lips and penciling of the eyebrows only exciting “contempt for the bad taste and blindness which deems them passable.” What Your Voice Looks Like. To take a picture of your voice it is only necessary to tie a sheet of thin, strong paper over the wide end of tin trumpet. Hold it with the sheet of paper upward, take a thin pinch of fine sand and-place it in the center of the paper, hold the trumpet vertic- ally above your face and sing a note into the lower end. Do not blow, but sing the note. Lower the trumpet carefully and look at the sand. You will find that the vibrations of your voice have scattered the pinch of sand into a beautiful sound picture. Every note in the musical scale will produce a different picture, so you may produce a great variety of them. Some of these pictures look like pansies, roses and other flowers; some look like snakes and others like flying birds—in fact, there is no limit to the variation. If you wish to see the pictures while they are being made you may employ may use your trumpet with a short piece of rubber tubing on the mouth- piece.—Answers, A Gentle Hint. He—Ida, are you interested in ath- letic sports? She (who has waited)— Yes; I am very much interested in the ring just now. Output of California Oranges, . taken out and thi: It is probable that southern Cali- fornia will ship out 15,000 car loads of oranges this season. The Point of View. He—Hasn’t Miss Hauion a Roman nose? She—I think retrousse is a better name for it—she turns it up on the slightest provocation, — Washington Star. The Craving for Stimulants Has lately attracted a great deal of attention. The use of them seems 10 be increasing. This elearly shows an exLausted condition of the nerves and blood, which may be remedied onty by strengthening the stomach. Hestet- ter’s Stomach Bitters will do this for you. It cures dyspepsia, coustipation and nervousne; That Unlucky Number. “T sat down to dinner with thirteen yesterday.” “Don’t yeu consider that unlucky?” “it was in this case. I had te pay for Press. “Take Time by The Forelock.”’ Don't wait until sickness overtakes you. When that tired feeling, the first rheu- matic pain, the first warnings of impure blood are manifest, take Hood’s Sarsapa- rilla and you will rescue your health and probably save a serious sickness. Be sure to get Hood's, because Has Got Some Money. “That fellow Jawley is a broker, isn’t he?” Yes” he got any money?” “Yes; he’s got mine.”—Harlem L Deafness Cannot Be Cured by local applications, as they cannot reach the diseased portion of the ear. Tere is only one way to cure deafness, and that is by consti- tutional remedies. Deafness 1s caused by an inflamed condition of the mucus lining of the Eustacb‘an Tube. When this tube is inflamed you haf/ja rumbling sound or imperfect hear- ing, ami when it is entirely closed deatness is the result, and unless the inflammation can be n 1 be restored to its normal condition, hearing will be destroyed forever; nine cases out of ten are caused rth, which is nothing but an inflamed condition of the mucus surfaces. ‘We will give One Hundred Dollars for an of Deafness (caused by catarrh) tb be cured by Hall's Catarrh Cure. circulars, free. F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, O. Sold by Druggists, 75c. Hall's Family Pills are the best. A Casus Belli. Maud—t firm should love our ¢ Jack—In that « on you at once. Send for believe that nemies. we for More Thun a Century Baker's Chocolate has been the standar by Walter Baker & Co. Ltd., Dorchester Made only Mass. Good Resolutions. “Make yoh good resolution said Unele Eben, “but don’t put in so much time thinkin’ ’em up dat you ain’t gu no chance to transack actual business.” —Washington § Reliable Help Wanted (Either sex.) The Humanitarlan Home and Sanitar- ium for Invalfds and Health Seekers, {corporate Send 12c in stamps for ruil Information. Address J. L ‘Teitiebaum, Treasurer, East Las Vegas, N. M. Deeds of Daring. Inker—That was a bold robbery yes- terday. Fellow took a piano right out of the house while the family was eat- ing dinner. Photographer—Humph! That’s noth- ing. I took the new courthouse the other day right under the nose of a policeman.—Baltimore American. is Mrs. Pinkham. Her great correspondence is under her own super- visions Every woman on this continent should under- stand that she can write freely to Mrs. Pinkham about her physical con=- dition because Mrs. Pink= ham is Awoman and because Mrs. Pink- ham never violates con- fidence and because she knows more about the itis of women than any other person in this countrys Lydia E. Piakham’s Vegetable C. has cured a million sick wo- men, E aeighbor- hood, almost every family, contains women relieved of pain hy this areat medicines s FOR 14 CENTS S ey se We wigh to gain this 10 EADS ers and Renee oer Eee -Earl'st Emer: eu Bs La Crosse Market tu lbe isn wheres, Same D: ried inner Onion, nt Flower Seeds, lio 1.00, for 14 ww \\ ereatsy