Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, September 6, 1902, Page 6

By Fred M. CHAPTER XL. A Useful Discovery. ‘Waiting with the eagerness of*the greyhound in leash, David Steel was mere annoyed and vexed over the dis- @ppearance of the wounded Van Sneck han he cared to admit. He had an uneasy feeling that the unseen foe had @heckmated nim again. And he had ®uilt up so many hopes upon this strangely uninvited guest of his. If that man spoke he could tell the truth. And both Cross and Bell had declared that he would not die. David found Cross in a frame of mind something like his own. It was late in the afternoon before it trans- pired that Van Sneck was gone, ‘and, wnfortunately, David did not know whhere to find Bell just at the moment. Cross had very little to say. “A most unpleasant incident,” he re- marked. “But these things will hap- gen, you know. We have been so busy fately, and our vigilance has been lightly relaxed. Oh, it is impossible te guard against everything, but he is @ertain to be found.” “You don’t think,” David suggested, “that anybody secretly connected with the man’s past—” “No, I don’t!” Cross snapped; “that would be impossible. The man had gomething on his mind, and, so far as bodily condition was concerned, he was getting quite strong again. In his dazed siate he got up and dressed him- elf and went away. He seems to have been seeking for somebody or some- thing for days. We are certain to have tim again before long.” With this poor consolation David re- @urned home again. He was restless and desirous of human companionship. Bie even resented it, as a kind of af- front, that his mother had chosen at this time’ to go to Hassocks to stay with an old friend for a couple of days. What Mrs. Steel knew practically noth- ‘mg of her son’s trouble counted for @aught. Therefore it was with some- thing akin to pleasure that David found Ruth Gates waiting in the draw- tmz room for him when he came in from his walk on the following after- @oon. Nothing had been heard of Van neck in the meantime, but, thanks to Chris’ telephone message late the, pre- ious nigit, he had got in touch with Bell, who was coming south without @elay . There was a look of shy pleasure in uth’s eyes and a deep carmine flush on her cheeks. “You don’t think that this is very hold of me?” she asked. “I am pretty Bohemian in any case,” David laughed, as he looked down, fondly, into the shy, sweet eyes. “And Ym too overjoyed to see you to think about anything else. I wish my mother was at home. No, I don’t because I have you all to myself.” “David! On an occasion like this you eught to be the pink of propriety. Do you know, I believe I have made a great discovery?” “Indeed, )ittle girl! And what have gou found out?” “Weil, you must tell me something Before my discovery seems valuable. David, you are a close student of hu- man nature. Is it possible for men of phenomenal cunning to make careless mistakes? Do the most clever crimi- mais ever make childish blunders?” “My dear child, if they didn’t the po- Mice would have very. little chance. For instance, I have discovered how those enemies of ours got hold of the mote paper that lured Van Sneck here. They sent a messenger to Carter’s, in ‘East street, presumingly knowing that ‘my dies were there, and ordered a quar- ter of a ream of paper and envelopes. “These were sent to an address at East Grinstead in a furry. Now, that was wery clever and smart, but here comes ‘the folly. These people, in the stress of business, actually forgot to ascertain @he cost and pay for the paper, so that &t was down yesterday in my last quar- ter’s bill. Oh, yes, I assure you, the gaost brilliant criminals do the most incredibly foolish things.” Ruth looked relieved. Her pretty features relaxed into a smile. “Then I fancy Reginald Henson has €one so,” she said. “I fancy I have e@olved the mystery of the cigar case—I mean, the mystery of the one I bought.” “And which was changed for the one purchased at Walen’s, hence these tears. But Lockhart’s say that our case “was really purchased by an American.” “Yes, I know. And I fancy that the ‘manager honestly thought so. But I ‘think I can explain that.” It was David's turn to look up, ea- gerly. “Do you mean it?” he exclaimed. “¥t will make a wonderful difference if you can. That has been one of the most bewildering knots of the whole puzzle. If we could only trace the num- “bers of those notes, I suppose changed -at the same time as the cigar case.” “Indeed, they were not,” Ruth cried. “*— have ascertained that the case was -ehanged by Henson, as you and I have already decided, Henson made the ex- change, not at the time we thought.” “Not when you left the package on ‘the table for him to see?” “No; at least I can’t say. He had the other case then, probably, passed on to him by Van Sneck. Or perhaps “he merely ascertained what I had pur- «chased. That was sufficient for his pur- pese. Of course, he must have found out all about our scheme. After I had faid my cigar case on your doorstep a man quietly changed it for the one pur- ehbasetj at Walen’s. But this is the al- ternate theory only. Anyway, I am absolutely cértain that you got exactly the same notes that we had placed in the original case.” pee ats “That might be,” Steel said, thought- fully. “But that dogs not explain the american at the Metropole.” - “T fancy that I can even explain that, dear. My uncle came down suddenly to-day from London. He wanted cer- tain papers in a great hurry. Now, those papers are locked up in a drawer at 219, given over specially to Mr. Henson. My uncle promptly broke cpen the drawer and took out the pa- pers. Besides these documents the drawer contained a package in one of Lockhart's big linen-lined envelopes— a registered letter envelope, in fact. My uncle had little time to spare, as he was bouni to be back in London to- night. He suggested that, as the lock of the dra-ver was broken and the en- \velope, presumably, contained valu- ables, I had better take care of it. Well, I must admit at once that I steamed the envelope open. I shouldn’t have done it if Lockhart’s name had not been on the flap. In a little case inside I found a diamond bracelet, which I have in my pocket, together with a receipted till for seventy-odd.pounds, made out to me.” Y “To you?” David cried. “Do you mean to say that+” “Indeed, I do. The receipt was made out to me, and with it was a little po- lite note to the effect that Messrs. Lockhart nad made the exchange of the cigar-case for the diamond bracelet, and that they hoped Miss Gates would find the matter perfectly satisfactory.” David was too astonished to say any- thing|for a moment. The skein was too tangled to be thought out all at once. Presently he began to see his way. “Under ordinary circumstances, “he charges seems’ impossible,” he said. “Especially seeing that the juggling could not have been done without both the cases—but I had forgotten how easily the cases were changed. I have it! What is the date of the letter?” Ruth slowly unfolded a document she had taken from her purse. “The day following what you call your great adventure,” she said. “Henson, or somebody, took the real case—my case—back to Lockhart’s and changed it in my namé. I had previ- cusly been admiring this self-same bracelet, and they had tried to sell it to me. is all part of the plot to plunge you deeper and deeper into trouble, to force us all to speak to save you? There are at least fifteen assistants at Lockhart’s. Of course, the ultimate sale of the ci- gar case to this American could be proved, seeing the case has got back into stock again, and at the same time the incident of the change quite forgot- ten. And when you go and ask ques- tions at Lockhart’s—as ,you were pret- ty sure to do, as Henson knew—you are told of the sale only to the American. Depend upon it, that American was was Henson himself, or somebody in his pay. David, that man is too cun- ning, too complex. And some of these days it is going to prove his fall.” David nodded, thoughtfully. And yet, without something very clever and intricate in the way of a scheme, Hen- son could not have placed him in his present tix, There is only one thing to be done,” he said. “You and 1 must go down to Lockhart’s and make a few inquiries. With that diamond bracelet and letter in your possession, you should have no difficulty in refreshing their memories. Will you have some tea?” “T am too excited,” Ruth laughed. “IT couldn’e eat or drink anything just at present. David, what a lovely house you have.’’ : “'m glad to hear that you are going to like it,” David said, drily. « Lockhart’s received their customers in the usual courtly style. They were sorry they had no recdllection of the transaction to which madam referred. The sale of the bracelet was clear, be- cause that was duly and properly re- corded on the books, and as, indeed was the sale of the gun-metal cigar-case to an Amerizan gentleman at the Metro- pole. If madam said that she had pur- chased the cigar-case, why—still, the polite assistant was most courteously incredulous. The production of the letter made a difference. There was a passing of confidences from one plate-glass coun- ter to another, and presently another assistant came forward. He profound- vy regretted that there had been a mis- take, but he remembered the incident perfectly. It,was the day before he had departed on his usual monthly vis- % to the firm’s Paris branch. Madam had certainly purchased the cigar-case; but before the sale could be posted in the ledger madam had sent a gentle- man to change the case for the dia- mond bracelet previously admired. The speaker had attended to both the sale and the exchange; in fact, his cab was waiting for him during the latter inci- dent. “T trust there is nothing wrong?” he asked, anxiously. “Not in the least,” Ruth hastened to reply. ‘The whole: matter is a kind of comedy that I wanted to solve. It is a family joke, you understand. And who made the exchange?” “Mr. Gates, madam. A tall gentle- yhan, dressed in--” “That is quite sufficient, ‘thank you,” said Ruth. “I am sorry to trouble you oyer so silly a matter.” The assistant assured madam, with an air of painful reproach, that noth- ing was accounted a trouble in that es- tablishment. He bowed his visitor out, and informed them that it was a lovely afternoon, a self-evident axiom that the most disputatious could not well deny. “You see how our inquiries might have been ulterly baffled but for this find of mine,” Ruth said, as*the two went along North street. “We shall find presently that the Metropole Amer- ican and Reginald Henson are one and the same person.” . “And_you fancy that-he made the ex- change at Lockhart’s?” : P “T feel pretty certain of it,” Ruth re- ‘fact that Lockhart sqld your case to an| plied. “And you will be sure, later on, to find that he had a hand in the pur- My dear boy, don’t you see this | h ‘dsnner whea Marley rang him up. | up an hour ago, and at the present mo- chase of the other cigar-case froin Wa- len’s. Go to Marley’s, and get him to make inquiries as to whether or not Walen’s got their case down on ap- proval 3 4 David proceeded to do so without*fur- ther delay. Inspector Marley was out, but David left a message for him. Would he communicate by telephone later on? Steel. had just. finished his “Are you. there? Yes; I have seen Walen. Your suggestion was quite right. Customer had seen cigar-case exactly iike it at Lockhart’s, only too dear. Walen dealt with’ some manu- facturers and got case down. Oh, no; never saw customer again. That sort of thing happens to shopkeepers every day. Yes. Walen thinks he would recognize his man again, Nothing more? Good-night, sir.” CHAPTER XLI. A Delicate Errand. It looked like being a long, dull even- ing for Steel if he were not going to the theater, or anything of that kind. He generally read until about 11 o'clock, after which he sat up for another cou- fle of hours plotting out the day’s task for to-morrow. To-night he could only wander restlessly about his conserva- tory, snipping off a dead leaf here and there, and wondering where the whole4 thing was going to end. , With a certain sense of relief David heard the front door bell trill about 11 o'clock. Somebody was coming to see him, and it didn’t matter much who, in Steel’s present frame of mind. But he swept in to the study with a feeling of genuine pleasure as Hatherly Bell was announced, “My dear fellow, I’m delighted to see you,” he cried. “Take the big arm- chair. Let me give you a cigar and a whisky and soda and make you com- fortable. That's better.” “I’m tired out,” Bell said. “In London all day, and since 6 with Cross. Can you put me up for the night?” “My bachelor bed room is always ready, Bell.” “Thanks. I don’t fancy you need be «der any apprehension that anybody kas spirited Van Sneck away. In the first place, Henson, who seems to have discovered what happened, is in a ter- tible state about it. He wanted, very badly, to remain at Littimer, but when he heard that Van Sneck had left the hospital, he came down here; in fact, we traveled together. Of course, he said, nothing whatever about Van Sneck, whom he is supposed to know nothing about, but T could see that he was terribly disturbed. The worst of it is that Cross was going to get me to operate on Van Sneck; and Heritage, who seems wonderfully better, was g0- ing to assist.” “Is your unfortunate friend up to that kind of thing now2” David asked I fancy so. Do you know that Heri- age used to have a fairly-good practice near Littimer Castle? Lord Littimer knows him well: I want Heritage to come into this. I want to get a the rea- son why Henson has been so confound- edly good to Heritage. For years he has kept his eye upon him;: for years he has practically provided him with a home at Palmer’s. And when Heritage mentions Henson’s name he always does with a kind of forced gratitude.” “You think that Heritage is going to be useful to us?” “I fancy so. Mind you, it is only my idea—what I call intuition, for want of a better word. And what have you been doing lately?” David proceeded to explain, giving the events of the afternoon, in full detail. Bell followed the account with the deepest interest. Then he proceeded .0 tell his own story. David appeared to be fascinated with the story of the man with the thumb-nail, “So Miss Chris hopes to hypnotize the man with the thumb,” he said. “You have seen more of her than I have, Bell. Does she strike you, as she strikes me, a girl of wonderfully acute mind, al- lied to a pluck and audacity absolutely brilliant?” “She is that and more,” Bell said, warmly. ‘Now that she is free to act, she has developed wonderfully. Look how cleverly she worked out that Rem- brandt business, how utterly she puz- zled Henson, and how she helped to get into Littimer’s g00d books again with- out Henson even guessing at the rea- son. And now she has forced the con- fidence of that great rascal, Merrit. She has saved him from a gaol into which she might have thrown him at any moment, she has convinced him that she is exceedingly brilliant in the way of an adventuress, with a great coup ahead. Later on she will use Merritt, and a fine, hard-cutting tool she will find him.” 5 “Where is Henson at the present mo- ment?” David asked. “I left him in Londen this afternoon,” Bell replied. “But I haven’t the least Coubt in the world that he has made his way to,Brighton by this time. In all probability he has gone to Long- dean,” - Bell paused as the telephone Bell rang out shrilly. The mere sound of it thrilled them bot with excitement. And what a useful thing the telephone had proved! “Are you there?” came the quick, small whisper. ‘Is that you, Mr. Steel? I am Enid Henson.” There was a long pause, during which David was listening intently. . Betl could see him growing rigid with the Prospect of something keen, alert and vigorous. 4 “Bell is here with me at this mo- mement,” he said. Just wait a minute while I tell him. Don’t go away, pleasd. Under the circumstances, it might be dangerous for me to ring you. Just a moment. Here's a pretty cuenett “Well,” Bell aid, impatiently, “Tn orly a mere man, after all.” “Henson is at Longdean; he turned ment is having his supper in the li- brary before going to bed. Bara is not the worst part of it. Williams. heard the dogs making a great noise by the gates, and went to see what was wrong. Some poor, demented» fellow had climbed over’the wall ,and the dogs were holding him up. Fortunately, he did not seem to be conscious of his dan- ger, and as he stcod still, the hounds did him no harm. Williams was going -to-put the intruder into the road.again, wander- came full of flowers and jumped to his feet. “Van Sneck, for million!” he cried. “My head to a cocoanut on it.” “The same. They managed to get the poor fellow into the house before Will- jems brought Henson from the lodge, and he’s in the stables now, in a rath- er excited condition. Now, I quite agree with Miss Henson that Henson must be kept in ignorance of the fact; also, that Van Sneck must be got away without any delay. To inform the hospital au- thorities. would be to spoil everything and play into Henson’s hands. But he must be got away to-night.” ’ “Right you are. Well, go and fetch him. Et apres?” “Et apres he will stay here. He shall stay here, and you shall say that it is dangerous to retnove him. Cross shall be told, and Marley shall be told, and the public shall be discreetly kept in ignorance for the present. I'll go over there at once, as there is no time to be lost. Miss Henson suggests that I should come, and she tells me that Williams will wait at the lodge gates for me. But you are going to stay here.” *“QOh, indeed! But why am I going to ‘stay here?” “Because, my dear friend, I can easi- ly manage the business single-handed, ard because you must run no risk of meeting Henson yonder. You are not now supposed to know where the fam- ily are, nor are you supposed to take the faintest interest in them. Stay here and make yourself comfortable till I return...... Are you there? I will be at Lonzgdean as soon as possible and tring Van Sneck ‘here. No; I won't ring off: you had better do that. I shall be over in less than an hour.” David hung up the receiver and pro- ceeded to don a short covert coat and cap. In the breast pocket of the coat he placed a revolver. * “Just as well to be on the safe side,” he said. “Though I am not likely to be troubled with the man with the thumb again. Still, Henson may have other biackguards; he may even know where Van Sneck is at the present momett, for all I know to the contrary.” “TJ feel ~ather guilty, letting you go alone,” Bell said. “Not a bit of it,” said David, cheer- fully. “Smoke your cigar, and if you need any supper, ring for it. You can safely leave matters in my hands. Van Sneck shall stay here until he is fit, and then you shall operate upon him. Af- ter that he ought to be as clay in the hands of the potter. So long.” « And David went off, gaily enough. He kept to the cliffs for the first part of the distance, and then struck off across the fields in the direction of longdean. The place was perfectly quiet, the village was all in darkness as he approached the lodge gates of the Grange. Beyond the drive and be- tween the thick, sad firs that shielded the house he could see the crimson lights gleaming here and there. He could catch the rumble and scratch in the bushes, and ever and again a dog whined. The big gate was closed 5 David peeped in, searching for his guide. “Williams,” he whispered; ‘“WiIll- lams, where are you?” But no reply came. The silence wis full of strange, rushing noises, the rush of blood “in David’s head. He called, again and again, but no reply came. Then he heard the rush and fret of many feet, the cry of a pack of hounds, a melancholy cry, with a sombre joy in it. He saw a light gleaming, fitfully, in the belt of firs. « “No help “No help for it,” David muttered. “I must chance my luck. I never saw a dog yet that I was afraid of. Well, here goes!” He scrambled over the wall and drop- ped on the moist, clammy earth on the other side. He fumbled forward a few steps, and then stopped suddenly, brought up all standing by the weird scene which was being solemnly en- acted under his astonished eyes. CHAPTER XLII. Prince Rupert’s Ring. While events were moving rapidly outside, time at Longdean Grange seemed to stand still.The dust and the desolation were ever there, the gloom brooded like an evil spirit. And yet it was but the calm before the storm that. was coming to banish the hoary old spectres for good. ‘ Still, Enid felt the motony to be as maddening as ever. There were times when she rebelled passionately against the solitude of the place. There were moments to her when it seemed that her mind couldn't stand the strain rauch lIenger. ; ‘But she had hope. that blessed legacy to the sanguine and the young. And there were times when she would creep out and seé Ruth Gates, who found the Rottingdzan Road very convenient for eycling just now. And there was al- ways the anticipation of a telephone message from Chris. Originally the tel- ephone had been established so that the household could be run without the in- trusion of strangers and tradesmen, It had seemed a great anomaly at the time, but now Enid blessed it every mo- ment of ihe day. And she was, per- haps, not quite so unhappy as»she deemed herself to be. She had her lov- er batk again, now, with his character free from every imputation, The sun straggled in through the dim, dusty panes; the monotonous voice of Mrs. Henson droned in the drawing room. It was what Williams called one of the unhappy lady’s “days.” Some- times she was quiet and reasonable, at other times the dark mood hung heay- ily upon her. She was pacing up and down the drawing room, wringing her hands and whimpering to herself. Enid had slipped into the grounds for a lit- tle fresh air; the house oppressed her ierribly to-day. The trim lawns and blazing flower beds were a pleasant contrast to the misery and disorder of the house. a Enid passed on into the shadow of the plantation. A little farther on, nearer the wall, the dogs seemed to be excited about something. William’s rusty voice could be heard expostulating with some ‘intruder. By him stood a man who, al- though fairly-well dressed, looked as if he had slept in his garments for days. ‘Ther2 was a dazed, puzzled, absent ex- sion on his face. — have no rest until I find it." * | ' Well, 0 and look in the road,” Will- iams suggested, smoothly. “Nothing ever gets lost here. Just you hop over tkat wall and try your luck outside.” Enig came forward. Evidently the intruder was no stranger to her. Will- jams started to speak volubly. But Enid cut jim short at once. -“A most extraordinary thing has happened,” she said. “It is amazing that this man should come here, of all places. Williams, this is the man Vay Sneck.” 2 “What, the chap as was wounded in the hospital, miss?” “The same. The man is not in full possession of his senses. But if Regi- pald Henson finds him now, it is likely to go hard with him. He must be tak- en into the house and looked after un- til I can communicate with somebody I ean trust. Mr. Steel, I think, He must be got back into the hospital. It is the enly place where he ts safe.” Van Sneck seemed to be looking on with the vacant stare of the mindless. He suffered himself to be led to the house, where he was fed like a child. It was in vain that Enid plied him witb all kinds of questions. He had ‘ost something—he could have no peace un- til he found it. This was the one bur- den of his crys Enid crossed to the window in some perplexity. The next moment she had something else to oc- cupy her-mini. Reginald Henson was coming up the drive. Just for an in- stant Enid felt i@clined to despair. “Williams!” she cried, “Mr. Henson is here. On no account must he see our unfortunate friend. He cannot possibly know that Van Sneck is here; the whole thing is an accident. ‘I am. going down into the hall. I shall contrive to get Mr. Henson into the drawing room. Without delay you must smuggle Mr. Van Sneck into your apartments, ove? the stable. You will be perfectly safe if you go down the back staircase. As soon as the drawing room door closes, g0.” Williams nodded. , He was essentially a man of action rather than words. With all the coolness she could sum- mon up, Enid descended to the hall, She gave a little gesture of surprise and disdain as she caught sight of Hen- son. “So you came down to welcome me?* Enid said, coldly. (To be Continued.) Was: Sick Eight Years with Female Trouble and Finally Cured by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. “Dear Mrs. Prvenam:—I have never in my life given a testimonial before, but you haye done so much for me that I feel called upon to give you this unsolicited acknowledgement of MRS. JENNIE E. O’DONNELL, President of Oakland Woman's Riding Club. the wonderful curative value of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com- pound. For eight years I had female trouble, falling of the womb and other complications. During that timeI was more or less of an invalid and not much good for anything, until one day I found a book in my hall telling of the sores are could perform. I became interested ; I bought a bottle of Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com- pound and was helped; I continued its ‘use and in seven months was cured, and since that time I have had perfect health. Thanks, dear Mrs. Pinkham again, for the health I now enjoy.” — Mrs, JENNIE O'DONNELL, 278 East 31st St., Chicago, Ill, — $5000 forfeit if above testimonial is notgenuine. Women suffering from any form of female ills can be cured by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegeta- ble Compound. That’s sure. Mrs. Pinkham advises sick wo- men free. Address, Lynn, Mass. KIRKE LA SHELLE’S DEFINITION. HIS LIMIT OF LAZINESS. % Man Who Named Two Dogs “Cocoa” —They Were Always Together. “I nev2> hear laziness discussed,” said Frederick Kost, the artist, “but T think of Old Man Crawford, who used to keep an inn down on South Beach, when the place was practically a wild- erness, and a lot of us fellows were in the habit of running down there to sketch. He was, without doubt, the fel- low most utterly devoid of energy it is possible to imagine. He wouldn't have breathed if he could have helped it. “One of his sons, who had settled in ‘New York, sent him two daschund pups. I remember how Crawford would sit, sunning himself on his porch the whole dey. , with one of these dogs, like ani- mated sausages, on each side of him. They were always by him, one to the left, the other to the right of his chair, when they were at.rest. “One day, as I sat talking to him, the dogs were romping in the house, Craw- ford turned and called: ‘Here ‘Cocoa, Cocoa!’ and the daschunds came trot- ting out. “What are their names, Crawford?’ I asked, thinking I had misunderstood. “ ‘Cocoa,’ replied Crawford. “But there are two,’ I reminded him. “‘One does for both,’ replied the old man. ‘They're alway together—come and go at the same time. And, any- how, I’m not going to worry myself into a decline by thinking up two dogs’ names.’ ’—New York Times. He Knows Quite Well What Humor Is, as Shown in an Interview With Clyde Fiteh. The news comes from Paris that Clyde Fitch is recovering from his at+ tack of nervous prostration, and will not, after all, be obliged to spend all ot his summer in Sicily. Kirke La Shelle met him in Paris recently, and Fitch told a humorous story. La Shelle never smiled. “I don’t believe you know what hu- mor is,” said Fitch. “Oh, yes, I do,” answered La Shelle. “Humor consists in the revelation of the perception of the surprising, or the incongruous in cases or under circum- stances when the mind perceives a par- allel or concurrent possibility of expect- edness or congruity.” “Gracious!” said Fitch, “I am going back to Sicily. How times have changed since you began to write and say funny things.”—Philadelphia Press. Too Extravagant. “No, sir!” roared the stern father, “you may own houses and lands, and automobiles, but you can’t marry my daughter.” “Why not?” “Young man, you’ve got the Panama hat habit; that’s why.”—Newark News. A Faithfal Friend. Lennox, Mo., Sept. Ist—Mr. W H. Brown of this place has reason to be thankful that he has at least one friend by whose good advice he has been spared much pain and trouble. He says: “I have had backache for over twelve months. Sometimes I could hardly get IT’S AN IMPOSSIBILITY. A Little Girl Who Could Never Grow Up to Be a Young Man Was Cry- ing. up when I was down, the pain in my Charls Steckler tells the following | back was so great. joke on himself: . “I tried many things, but could not get anything to help me or give me re- lief till a friend of mine advised me to try Dodd's’ Kidney Pills. “After I had used two boxes the pain in my back had all left me, and I am as well as ever I was. “I am very thankful to Dodd’s Kid- ney Pills for what they have done for me, and I will never forget my friend for having suggested this remedy.” He was taking a short cut through Frankfort street one afternoon, a few days ago, when he came upon a child crying bitterly. He stopped to ask what was the matter. “Mamma says I can’t ever be presi- dent,” sobbed the child. “Well, what if you can’t?” consolad the lawyer. “There are lots of other ways of making a name for yourself, even if you don't get Roosevelt's job. You can grow up te be a gocd man, and that's better than being president. Don't you think so?” * “But I can’t grow up to be a good man!” wailed the youngster, in a fresh outburst of woe. “Nonsense!” said Mr. course you can!” “Can't, neither!” bell8wed the child. “Why not, I’d like to know?” “’*Cause I’m a little girl!”—New York World. Dead Man’s Check Refused. A few days ago a man presented a check to William H. Rogers, cashier of the Nassau bank, demanding payment. “But I can’t pay that,” said the cash- jer; ‘‘that man’s dead.” “But,” protested the holder of the check, “he was alive when he signed it.” And, in face of.all Mr Rogers’ ef- forts at explanation, the man left the bank convinced that he had a griev- ance.—New York Times. Steckler. “Of How Wonderful. Fudge—This is a most remarkable case. A paper relates that a connois- seur of art, passing an old junk shop, saw a dusty painting lying among the rags in the window, and, taking a fan- cy to it, purchased it. Judge—What’s remarkable about it? “The painting turned out to be neith- er a Rubens nor a Rembrandt.”"—Balti- more Herald. Sensitiveness of an Artist. Artists are sensitive. A Dane, Mr. Vilhelm Hammershoj, exhibited a pic- ture at Copenhagen lately. It was called “Rive Portrait: and it attract- ed much attention. Five men, who seemed to be dismally silent, sat around a table. The room was lighted by two candles. The faces, they Say, were re- markably well painted; but a man on the tight showed surprising feet, which, in the foreshortening, seemed exagger- ated in size, as in a photograph. The boots were evidently jammed full of feet, to quote the old minstrel gag, and the feet furnished material for a song in a burlesque of “Sherlock Holmes” at a local theater. Then a bootmaker car- icatured the picture in an advertise- ment, hvhich bore this legend: “Ham- | mershoj paints—So-an-So sells—a. good pair of Boots!” .The painter was not pleased by this tribute; he brought an action for damages against the boot- maker; but the matter was settled by the payment of a small fine.—Boston Journal. The Limit. - Mr. Van Albert—Great Scott! Why are not all these dishes washed? Mrs. Van Albert—Because the cook is using the kitchen table. | : Mr. Van Albert—In what way? Mrs. Van Albert—She is playing a Undisputed for Half a Century. It is a remarkable fact, which for half a century has not once been dis- puted, that St. Jacob’s Oil never : patie poren Realism in Our Drama. During the village street scene, the lady heroine and many flashy adventur- esses passed each other coldly, their} | noses tilted in scorn, © xs The lady heroine turned her head and glared after her wicked rival “Sublime!” cried the delighted audi- “She 's darting looks of h "AS @ matter of fact, the MRS, J. E. O'DONNELL - game of ping-pong with the policeman,