Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, June 8, 1901, Page 6

IN THE WEB OF ty. CHAPTER XVIII. (Continued.) { He paused, hesitatingly, when his eye @ell on the open drawer of the secret hiding place. His face grew livid. “What does this mean?" he exclaimed. “Merciful heaven! Can there have been wome reason in her words just now? Can a robbery have taken plac As he spoke, stooping over her, Mr. Grant raised her from the floor, and thalf-carried her to a lounge. As he kaid her upon it he whispered: “Silence! You are betraying your- elf!” Beatrice could not repress a scream. dn her overwrought condition, it seemed ‘to her that little short of a miracle had ‘been effected. - She forgot all care, all prudence, as, elinging to him, she cried aloud that he -weuld stay beside her. “Do not leave me! Oh, do not leave me!" she pleaded, pitifully. But neither action nor words roused 4m Chester’s mind suspicion. They ap- peared to him but the counterpoise to her feeling of aversion against himself. Besides, now but one sentiment ab- s@orbed him. What had the empty drawer con- tained, and where had its contents flown? Had Beatrice, indeed, discov- ered the missing will? And if so, who was it who at this moment shared her iscovery? It behooved him, indeed, to know and ascertain this fact. “Beatrice,” he said, calming himself to use the old, persuasive tone, ‘for- give me if, a moment ago, I was harsh. But tell me what has happened. Have you, indeed, been robbed?” “Caution!” whispered Bertie’s voice again. But its accents reached her ear alon¢ “To-morrow—give me until to-mor- row, and I will tell you. To-night I can mot talk.” . “But you were robbed?” “— found some papers in the desk, and {fm the darkness some one snatched (them from me. -I thought that it was you." The ashen pallor deepened on Ches- ter's face. “Wait here,” he said. “I will return.” “Bertie!” whispered Beatrice, in a low woice of supreme ecstasy. ‘Bertie! It fs indeed you?” “Yes, my darling—yes,” answered the @o-called Mr. Grant. “Is my disguise, indeed, so perfect?” “Your disguise so perfect and my des- pais so hopeless! Oh, Bertie, why have you not come before?” “Because, my love, until your letter reached me, I knew not where you were. My anxiety concerning you w: s! too great to admit even the effort nece eary to the tracing of this fox to the earth. But were you, indeed, robbed} to-night, Beatrice? Tell, me quickly dear.” “Yes. I had just opened the secret! drawer. I only discovered its existence| this afternoon. . Ah, Bertie, if I had this afternoon. Ah, Bertie, if I nad) known then that the desk wes to b> made your property, all this might have ‘been saved.” { “I tried to give you some w, hint, but dared not risk discov : it was, I hoped that you would ur etand.” “No; I was blind. My m’'sery blind-} ed me to all else. And then the mad hope that I had discovered the pa- pers that meant to us both so much, s9 dazzled me that I could see nothing— nothing. But I had only clutched my) treasure tight, when, in the darknes gome one stole upon me from bet and snatched it from me. The next in-} stant—so it seemed to me—the room| was flooded with light, and you and Randolph Chester were standing loo+- ing at me. In that moment, Bertie, Ij understood the feeling which prompts amen to murder. I thought that it was ‘he who was the thief.” “No; for I followed him directly from the drawing room. It will be a bitter fight between us as to who shall discov- ec the thief and regain possession of the papers. Meanwhile, dear, I am on his track. Night and day, I follow like the sfeuth-hound on the trail of the deer; and every hour, every minute, I am miearing the goal. Yet, one faise step ‘would ruin all, Are you sure, Beat- wice, that you are now strong enough mot. to betray us by word or glance?” “Ah, Bertie, to know you are near gives me back all my lost strength! you need no longer fear for me. It was only when I felt myself alone—only in the moments when it seemed to me that ‘the shadow of death lay like an eternal wall of separation between us—that my strength and courage alike entirely for- 00k me.” “Listen, then, dear, and I will tell you “my plans. I—" He paused. A step sounded in the room beyond; @ rustle of silken skirts was heard.The next instant Miss Lorrimer entered the room. “Mr. Grant!” she exclaimed, “you thave forsaken us! The tree has reached @ point where your taste is absolutely essential to its further progress.” “You have not seen it, Miss Mark- ham,” he said, rising as he spoke. “Will you not lend us the benefit of your taste, as well?” To Miss Lorrimer’s surprise, Beatrice assenting laid her hand upon his arm. “Has she fascinated him, too?” she thought. Half an hour later she saw him write, on a sheet he had torn from his note book, a few words. “You would give me no commissions to-day, Miss Markham,” he said. “May E give you some for to-morrow, though they will not demand a trip to the city?” « “Are they difficult?” she questioned, with a smile. But here was a ring in her tone, a gladness in her smile. Edith’s quick LILLIAN GILLIN. She held the paper a moment, then tore it, idly, into tiny fragments, which she threw toward the open fire. Only two reached it. The rest fell upon the hearth. A little later the good-nights were triumph—an interview, however, to said, and all departed to their apart- ments. Beatrice and Mr. Grant exchanged nu further words, but long after the house was silent the door of Edith Lorrimer’s room softly opened, and a white-robed figure stole through the hall and down the stairs. Like a spirit she glided into the de- serted drawing room and knelt beside the embers of the dying fire. By the feeble light thus gained she gathered up every fragment which at- tested to Beatrice’s work of destruction. Holding them closely in her hand, she regained her chamber. A half-hour later, with a smile of tri- umph on her lips, she had them spread before her,, fitting like a piece of mosa- ic, with but two parts missing. And this was the commission whose knowledge, with Beatrice, she now shared: “Meet me to-morrow morning at 8 in the libra If we are interrupted, I will explain —— (here a word was miss- ing), but above all, be (and here anoth a But she could dispense with both. She wound her tiny, jeweled watch with scrupulous care. It must not fail her, for, by a strange coincidence, she, too, must keep an appointment for the hour mentioned in the note. There should be to the interview between Mr. Grant and Beatrice an unsuspected au- dience. What new weapon would it put into her hands? CHAPTER XXIX. Was it the spirit of man or devil which had wrested the papers of such vital import to Beatrice Markham from her hand? To her it seemed as though a second of time had not elapsed be- fore the two men had appeared upon the scene, and her misfortune had, for the moment, paralyzed her. A full minute had gone by; a minute which enabled the thief to steal like a cat through the darkness, softly to open the door leading to the guest chamber assigned to Mr. Grant, and, through one of the windows, drop to the ground beneath. The night was very cold, and a rising wind was howling through the bare branches of the oaks. A pale moon had risen, and peeped, now and then, from great banks of wind clouds, Close in the shadow of the house the man cowered, as he raised himself from th» ground where he had fallen. it wes Tyrrell, and his teeth chattered in his head: but it was a shiver of fear, rather than of the bitter cold. “If there’d been any light I couldn't have done it,” he muttered —“not if I'd | seen her eyes! But she said these pa- pers would prove the young chap’s in- nocence, and that manes—that manes as it would prove the guilty are guilty! If it'd been gold, I'd not have stolen a dollar of it! It’s not her gold as I'm wanting. His innocence, eh! It just seemed as if she was talking out loud to me in the darkness. I'd have let her alone—poor, pretty lamb—if she'd left that out. Well, I’ve got ’em now—what | skall I do with ’em I'd go back to the lodge and burn ’em. if the old man wasn’t up there. I'll hide ’em—aye, safe and sound, where Tyrrel O’Byrne him- self never'll be after finding ’em ag’in.” Five minutes later the lodge keeper staggered into his own lodge. The old man was sitting before the fire, as if he had not stirred one mo- ment from his place. “It’s a cold night!” he muttered, as an icy blast blew in through the open door. “Aye! give me the cratur, quick!” cried Tyrrell, and he took a huge draught from the steaming jug. At that moment a quick step sounded without; the lodge door was violently thrown open, and, pale and breathless, Tyrrell’s master stood upon the thresh- old. “You dog!” he cried, “is it thus that you obey my orders Have you been absent from the lodge to-night?” “T was ill, and couldn’t lave, Mr. Chester; beg pardon, sir.” “I don't believe it. There’s been a robbery committed up at the house— some important papers were stolen from Miss Markham. She is sure you are the thief. Come, confess! Give up the pa- pers to me, and I’ll say no more about ya ‘The old man by the fire cast at Tyr- rell a quick, covert glance, but the lodge keeper's face betrayed nothing. “T couldn’t stale, Mr. Chester,” he replied. “I’d not dare, unless,” he add- ed, with a low chuckle, “as you'd help me out.” “Help you out! I'll help you to the seaffuld yet! But give me those pa- pers, you rascal, or I'll turn you, neck and heels, out of my house to-morrow!”” “Maybe you'll think better of it to- morrow, Mr. Chester. I’ve known ye to slape on your anger before. But I've got no papers, all the same. You can s'arch me and the house, too, and you're welcome to ail you can find, barring the whisky.” Chester came closer, and, leaning his hand on Tyrrell’s shoulder, whispered in his ear: “Give me the papers,” he said. “You shall have a thousand dollars in gold for them.” “I can't give ye what I ain’t got,” an- swered the man, with a drunken chuck- le. “You fool!’ thundered Chester. “To- ars and eyes were not slow to note.! morrow you go!” “Something Les behind those simple words,” she thought. To the old man he vouchsafed rfeither word nor glance, and he now strode Narrowly she watched Beatrice as .@he glanced at the few written words. out, the door clashing angrily behind im. | Tyrrell bent nearer the fire, stretch- ing out his hands to warm them at the blaze. “You take your dismissal easy,’ the old man. “My dismissal!" echoed the lodge- keeper, in a thick, drunken tone. “Hush your clatter, fool! It’s not Randolph Chester as’ll dare carry out his threats. Oh, no!” “I don’t think that you like this mas- ter of yours too well. Am I right?” “What's that to you?” “Nothing, nothing. Only I thgught myself I could show you a way where you might get the upper hand of him, and keep it, too.” “Then it’s true, what he suspects-— that you're here in Talbot's service, if, indeed, you’re not Talbot's self?” con- fessed Tyrrell, in his drunken confi- dence. “And so he suspects that?” replied the other. “Well, he’s wrong, my man; but suppose he were right. Suppose I could show you a way out of your trou- said ble. Suppose, by a confession of how you stole the money from Mr. Mark-. ham, you might be pardoned, and he condemned as your accomplice, what then?” “Over and over Tyrrell revolved the words in his drunken brain. “How I stole the money?” he repeat- ed, softly, while the eyes watching him never left his face. “How I stole the money! Curse you!” he cried, in a sort of frenzy. “Do you think Tyrreli O'Byrne a fool? Oh, God, his eyes are looking at me! See! See! them glar- ing at me from the dark corners! Save me from him! Save me, I say!" and he cowered in his chair in a drunken deli- rium, muttering and mumbling to him- self. Presently he fell into a heavy, drunk- en slumber. “A cunning dog!” muttered the old man. “But where did he disappear to night, and what are the papers of which Chester spoke? I saw him ente: the library, and waited for him out- side, but discovered him stealing by another path to the lodge. Is he the thief, as they suspect, and can the pa- pers be upon him?” He rose:as the latter thought crossed his brain, and, with curious skill, ex- amined thoroughly the clothing of the man who slumbered in his drunken stupor. “T’'ve let a good job escape me to- night, I fear.” he murmured to himself, and, rising, went into the next room. “I'm thinking there'll be some work to- morrow. I guess I'd better get what sleep I can.” Five minutes later his snores mingled with those of Tyrrell in the room be- yond; and when the dawn broke the old man was missing. CHAPTER XXX. When Beatrice entered the library next morning, Mr. Grant (as Mr. Ches- ter’s guest was known) was already there. He sat writing, but sprang up eagerly to greet her. Holding her little hand in his, he gazed with adoring rapture into the pale, beautiful face. “My darling!” he exclaimed, “I must not even draw you to my heart, nor give you one kiss. I can scarcely dare to look at you; yet how I have hungered for this moment!” She strove in vain to speak—to an- swer him, but her lips only quivered, and great tears rolled down her cheeks. “Control yourself, my love,” he plead- | ed. “At any moment we may be inter- rupted.” At any moment, he said; yet, ab- sorbed in each other, neither dreamed | that the dreaded moment of interrup- | tion had already come. Neither saw | the heavy curtain tremble, nor detected the gleaming eyes which, through its; parted folds, watched every gesture, every look—the keen ears which drank in every word. “Listen, Beatrice,” continued Bertie. “But sit here on this arm chair, deat while I go back to the desk. There! | We shall be unsuspected now, if any one should enter. Our meeting here | must appear an accident. Once more we are Miss Markham and Mr. Grant. Mr. Grant? It was a bold step, dear, | was it not? But when you, with eyes of love, did not discover me. I knew | that I was safe from him. I shaved oft my moustache, darkened my skin and dyed my hair. My beard, of course, is false. It was all made easier for me by his suspecting a detective I sent | down to watch Tyrrell to be me. It helps me play my role the better. Af- fairs, however, are drawing to a climaz. In regard to the man at the lodge, Chester will probably to-day discover his mistake concerning him. I will take good care, however, that his suspicions do not fall on me. In fact, I think that I may prophesy that he will give me his confidence and seek my counsel. Not a bad idea, will it be? To further play into my hands, he asked me to send down two men yesterday from the city detective officers. Of course, I brought down two in my own service. I almost wish, darling, you were still in ignor- ance of it all. But, if I escape the next few hours without detection, we shall, I believe, bring Randolph Chester to bay. And detection is well-nigh impossible. Only one thing troubles me—the loss of the papers last night. Of that theft Chester is innocent. Who could have taken them?” “7 cannot tell. I only felt a hot breath, reeking with the fumes of liquor on my cheek, a rough arm about my waist; and then, almost without @ struggle, so great was my amaze, that I let the papers go. They would have proved all, Bertie. I feel—I know it. It seemed as if papa’s spirit came back from the grave to show me the hiding place. But I found them, only to lose them!” And, burying her face in her hands, the sobs came thick and fast. . ‘Hush, dear! Control yourself. I feel as if our long night were ended—as if the dawn at last were breaking. Ran- dolph Chester yet shall meet his deserts and you, my dearest, proudly assert your rights. Meantime, Beatrice, con- fide in no one—above all, in Edith Lor- rimer. She hates you—her lover loves you—and her very soul is consumed by jealous fires. Ah, my love, they kindled in my own, when, the other night, 1, un- dolph Chester play into éach other's hands, they would be fitting tools each to the other's conscienceless skill. The day that sees you mistress of Grey Oaks ~heiress to your father’s wealth—and, above all, your claim established to the grand old home, will be to her, as to him, the day of cruel retribution. Oh, my love, to know that that day has dawned for you, I would gladiy make my own life the sacrifice!” “And without you to share it, Bertie, what would it all be worth?” “You love me still, Beatrice? The words of passionate love to which you listened the other night found in your heart no echo? It is love, only love I still may claim, and not some fancied debt of gratitude?” “I love you—you only!” pered, softly. But the whisper reached him where he sat. He sprang up, his face illumined by the light of passionate ecstasy. He made one short etep toward her. In another moment, prudence forgot- ten, he would have caught her to his ‘madly-beating heart, when a_ voice greeted him from the doorway with a gay good-morning.. It was their host. Both rose and followed him into the breakfast room. The library was left deserted. Deserted? No; for the heavy cur. tains cautiously were lifted, and out from behind them crept a woman of tall and queenly form—a woman whose black eyes were fairly lurid with the light of fury, which alike had blanched her cheeks and lips to marble hue. “So this is the lover she missed! He, too, knows my secret—my humiliation! Together they gloat over it! And she is to possess the triumph, throwing to me the defeat. Oh, you did well to warn her, Bertram Talbot; but your warning comes too late. Randolph Chester is on the wrong path, is he? He will come to you for counsel, eh? Aye, but it will be to lead you, blind fool, into the trap you have set for him! And you, Beatrice Markham, are to reign mistruss of Grey Oaks? Methinks your castle will be the four walls of a mad house cell, while to your lover will be awarded that of a prison. Whose triumph will it be then? Triumph?” she paused, and an expression of acute suffering passed over her face. « “To me revenge, but triumph—no! Will it all win me one glance of love from Alien’s eyes—one word of softened utterance from Allen’s lips—one caressing touch from Allen's hands? Ah, no! Should he guess my part in to-day’s work he would but turn from me with instinct- ive horror. It would give him the pre- text for which, all unconsciously, he longs—the pretext to bréak his vows! But he must never know—he must nev- er suspect! When all the world be- lieves this woman mad—when she is forever shut out from its sight in a mad-house—I may teach him to forget. I might have been a woman, had he loved me. As it is—oh, God!—I shud- der and dare not look in one the spirits which have taken possession of my wretched soul. Love, jealousy, hate— to what can they not transform the human heart? An hour later she and Randolph Chester were closeted together in an in- terview, from which she*came forth with a livid face, but a smile of devilish which there had been no unseer wit- ness. Its purport was known only to themselves. she whis- CHAPTER XXXI. The master of Grey Oaks was absent At noon he had ordered his horse and rode, alone and unattended, to the vil~ lage. “A Christmas surprise I am preparing fo: you!” he said, as he vaulted into the saddle and waved his hand in fare- well. Evidently his errand, whatever its nature, inspired haste, for when he drew rein at the station his horse's flanks were white with foam. A few moments later a message was sent over the wires, signed by his name; and addressed to New York’s chief of police. , Evidently, the contemplated surprise ended for the present here, since, leap- ing once more into the saddle, he turned his horse’s head homeward, but gave him neither whip nor spur to hast- en him. “I'm afraid, Bertie,” whispered Beat- rice, as she passed him in the hall, “Randolph Chester’s surprise portends no good to us.” “Poor little girl! Am I not here? And TI will never leave you again, Be~ atrice, come what will!” Her thoughts were very busy with their dread import when Allen Layton came and stood beside her chair. “You have forgiven me, Miss Mark- ham?” he said, in low, earnest tones— “forgiven me that I let my passion find words?—forgiven me that I compelled you to share my unhappy secret? Yet, do you know, it was a relief to me when I had spoken?—when I knew that Edith, too, had heard all—that the de~ cision was in her hands? Ah, I told you, Miss Markham, that she coveted only my name, my wealth! She holds me by my bond. I shall not break it. But you will let me serve you in some way, however slight? Oh, Beatrice, why didn’t our paths cross before? Tell me, my love—tell me—could I have taught you the Iesson which to me, in my lonely desolation, fs fraught only with infinite misery?” A great pity was in the gray eyes as they uplifted themselves to his face; but it was pity unmixed with love, un- tainted by passton. “You are too good, too true, too noble, Mr. Layton, to sue, T think,' in vain, at any heart which held no other shrine, But it is only just that I should tell you —I—I too, am pledged, and with all my | sout I love the man to whom I am be- seen, listened to his passionate confes- sion—a confession she, too, overheard, and which kindled the flames of hatred to a longing for revenge. She is bold and unscrupulous. Should she and Ran- trethed.” He staggered back an instant, as if she had struck him a mortal blow. ‘Then he recovered himself. “But why, then, is he not here with you?” he asked. “Why and how can he leave you alone and desolate?" She longed to answer: “He is here.” But prudence commanded silence. “He is not to blame,” she said, sim- ply. “Randolph Chester is his enemy, as he is mine.” “Your enemy, and once’my friend! I feel half-traitor as I accept his hospi- tality, with the doubts that you hava kindled ris?’ng in my breast. Some- times I thmk your fancy wrongs him." (To Be Coatinued.) What Affects Clover Seeding ? From the Farmers’ Review: In the mind of thoughtful, intelligent farm- ers very interesting problems are con- tinually presenting themselves for so- lution. The amount of general knowl- edge possessed by them is not usually sufficient for their guidance in seel- ing answers to the questions arising. For this reason they are apt to as- cribe incorrect causes for effects which’ they observe. An illustration of this is found in the popular theory that the season, more than the time of cutting the first crop of clover, affects the yield of seed on the second crop. To understand this problem we must draw upon a knowledge of agricultural chemistry and plant feeding and the elaboration of elementary food in the plant. Seeding is the effort of the plant to reproduce itself when it has reached a certain period of growth. As the elaboration of seed depends up- on the presence and action of phos- Phoric aeid im the plant, the movement of phosphorus in it furnishes the key to the solution of the problem. Take the plant in four stages of growth. As a young plant in full health about 6 to 8 inches tall, from 22 per cent to 25 per cent of the total phosphoric acid necessary for full de- velopment of the matured crop has beem taken up from the root, and about 50 per cent of this amount is found in the upper leaves. After it has ob- tained about one-third more growth, over 40 per cent of the phosphoric acid has beem brought up, of which from 60 per cent to 65 per cent is found’ in the heads and stems and Ieaves close up to the heads. When the plant has grown still larger and reacted full bloom, 70\per cent to 75 per cent of the required phosphoric acid has been received from beneath the ground, and 80 per cent of this has found its way into the head and blos- soms. Finally, when the seed has been perfected, fully 90 per cent of the total phosphoric acid taken by the plant has passed from the structure to the seed. If the crop is eat when 40 per cent and upwards of the phospho- rus needed for full development and re- production has been taken up and from 60) per cent to 80 per cent of this reached the upper parts of the plants it will require a very rich feeding of phosphate to enable it to repair dam- age, and, besides building a new plant provide: nourishment for seed. Few soils: are equal to such a strain, but as farmers like to get as much maturi- ty as possible im the hay crop so as to provide a good article of fodder, they must be careful to look well to the phosphatic feeding of clover fields. This will be more fully appreciated if we bear in mind that two tons of clo- ver hay om a meadow calls for 40 per, cent more phosphorus than thirty bushels of wheat, sixty-five bushels of corn or fifty bushels. of oats. Any effect of the season on the seed development of the second crop must generally be ascyibed iw the rapid growth of the first crop deceiving the farmer into the belief that the large growth had attained corresponding maturity. Imsuch cases a chemical ex- amination of the hay of the first crop would show it to be lacking in feed- ing value in full proportion to its bulk and: weight. While on this questiom it is inter- esting. to: observe that the researches of Dr. Wagner emphasize most de- cidedly the mecessity of the phosphate and potash manures for clovers grown for manurial purposes, Ordinarily eighty pounds. of nitrogem supplied to the soil from am acre of two tons of ‘clover is good work, but it is found that over 250: pounds of nitrogen can be obtained om an acre from the at- mosphere by supplying abundant phos- phoric acid in additiom to potash. On heavy soils the potash kas not gen- erally to be supplied as manure, but on said soil deficient in potash we are called upon to supply it as well as the phosphate.—Thomas Wallace. Some Orange-Growing Localities. It is, stated on good authority that the orange orchard area at Riverside, California, covers thirty square miles, or 19,200 acres, om which are growing 1,536,000 orange trees. The money value of the crop approximates $6,- 000,000 annually, ar about $670 for each man, woman, and child in the district. It has been calewlated that there are in Italy 5,400,000 orange trees which yield om an average 1,600,000,000 or- anges. per year, er 300 oranges per tree. In the province of Seville, in Spain, where the largest quantity of oranges. is grown in Europe, the aver- age annual yield per tree is estimated at 600, oranges. The island of St. Michael, in the Azores, produces on an area of 265 acres 350,000,000 or- anges, which are almost entirely ship- ped to England. In 1899 the total ex- port of oranges from Spain exceeded 1,000,000,000, Greece exported in 1899 some 50,00u,000 oranges. Some years ago the mantis, an in- sect-eating insect, was brought to New York state from abroad, presumably im a shipment of nursery stock. It has become a popular ally of farmers and horticulturists, as it kills all kinds of insects except ants. It is foumd commonly in France and Germamy, where it is prized as the foe of de- structive pests. The common practice of plowing up, or digging up at random, the young plants from a strawberry be@ is not conducive to improvement of the va- rieties. The most successful growers are learning that it pays to select from the best individuals each generation. In fact it is advisable to keep a patch on purpose for breeding. River Jordan water is now exported regu’afly for baptismal purposes. " London is said to be richer in trees than any other Huropean city, i Affected Them Greatly. Missionary—Did my predecessor bring tears to your eyes when he preached to you? Cannibal Chief—No; but he made our mouths water.—Baltimore Sun. ‘What Do the Children Drick? Don’t give them tea or coffee. Ha raven tried the new food drink called GRAIN-Of At is delicious and nourishing, and takes the of coffee. The more Gesin 0 ree {abe children the more health you distribute through their systems. Grain-O is made of . and when properly prepared xe the choice grades ve coffee, but costs about }¢ as much: grocers well i rechice is BLEEBEARD IN PEFTICOATS. Frenviy Woman’ Eight Husba Have Strangely Disuppeared — Where Have They Gene? A female Bluebeard has just eluded the French police, taking away all the records of her numerous marriages and her clever suppression of ter husbands. Dissatisfied with her maiden name of Jeanne Volante, she has borne swecess- ively the names of eight mew whom she wedded! Recently. the mysterious disappear- ance of the husband of the jolly, bux- om hostess of the small! inm at Clichy caused the people of that' place: to won- der, especially when, three: montis lat- er, she married a lad of eighteem years, who had been a boarder, without get- ting a divorce: The authiorities;, whem notified of the case, went to: arrest them, but the couple got word! of’ it and escaped. Certain papers found lowed. that the little woman had been married eight times in eight different towns, but had never been divorcedi The disappearance of her husband» had never been explained, but suspicion had never been aroused before. Now, if the police succeed in discovering: the woman innkeeper; it is thought that am astounding series-of crimes-will be un- folded.—Paris Cable to New York Sum A Blacksmith's tange Exsperic ace: Goodland, Kan, June 3.—N. E. Al- bertson, our leading blacksmith, has been a great sufferer from rheumatism. He was so bad that he could’not sleep for the great pain in his arms and shoulders. He had been afflicted for years, but lately he was- so much worse that he thought’he would have to» give up his shop altogether. Then a strange thing happened. As friend of his recommended a new medi- cine called Dodd’s Kidney Pills, said to» be a cure for Rheumatism. He com+ menced to use them, and at once be- gan to recover. His pain has left him, and he is a well man to-day, and en- tirely free form any symptom of* Rheumatism. To say that he is thankful, is putting” it very mildly. He is delighted. Dodd’s Kidney Pills deserve credit for having cured this very severe and al- most hopeless case. From recent reports, there does not seem to be anything they will not cure, as very bad cases of’ Bright's- Disease, Diabetes, Dropsy, Rheumatism, and Heart trouble, have been cured by Dodd’s Kidney Pills, even after having been given up by our best doctors. The larnyx of man is twice the size, on an average, if the same organ im ‘woman. Are You Using Aiten’s Foot-Ease? It is the only cure for Swollen, Smarting, Burning, Sweating Feet, Corns and bunionss Ask for Allen’s: Foot-Ease, a powder to be shaken into the shoes. At all Druggists and Shoe Stores, 25c. Sample sent FREE. Ad- dress Allen S. Olmsted, Le Roy,.N. Ye SPORT IN WESTERN CANADA. While the Farmer’s- Grain Is Ripening and His Stock Growing Fat. He May: Have Plenty of Shooting. There is probably no country.on the American Continent where the life of the farmer carries with it that assur- ance of comfort and success as does: Western Canada. Nor is there. to, be found anywhere else such a. pleasant combination. Game abounds. every- Where and nowhere does it afford such perfect amusement. A noted sports- man writing of the favorite pastime says: “There is one particular spot where I saw a.man drop seventy mal- lards one morning and bring.them. ail to bag, too, for. they dropped. in open water or on flat_prairie. At the-right season of the year you can see black lines and triangles cut sharply. out against the sky all round you, moving. very swiftly, andiyou begin to»wonder whether you: have enough cartridges: to hold oui. You can hear the prain:e chicken crowing. like barn-door fowls, and a little too the northeast: is a. bit. of marshy. ground, cattle-poached and dappled with: gleaming pools, whare the snipe. are: nearly as thick as mos- quitoes. A thin. column of; blue smoke curling up im the distance shows. you where a few wandering Indians nave pitched their: camp, but. there is no other indication of civilization in sight. Still, the neighborhood is weil- settled, and! a short drive will bring you to a farmhouse, where you can buy the finest butter and the freshest eggs for ungivilized prices. A very stort railway journey will bring you, to a country full of deer and the lordly wapiti, the king of the deer tribe the: world over, and down on the flat, hogey land by tite lake shores the moose will stand kmee deep. in water on the: summer evenings ready to lie down when the fiies get bothering. All day you breathe the wild free air of the prairie, amd at night you are lulled to sleep by the surge and ripple and splash of the waves on the beach, braken now aad then by the wierd bamshee-cry of strange water-fowl.” Particulars regarding settlement of the ands of Western Canada can be had from any agent of the Canadian gov- ernment, whose advertisement appears. elsewhere in your columns. OLD READER. PISO'S CURE FOR