Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, April 9, 1904, Page 6

~ Mrnsse | | : OL) CO oocoCoOOooonooooooooooooS CHAPTER IV.—(Continued.) “Yes; and when I am rich I can send and have him found and brought back to me,” said the girl, eagerly. Tell me again of that night when I lay dying and the woman rode up to the cabin out of the darkness. Tell me again.” “I have only heard the story in parts, bit by bit, as your father re- membered it,” said the old man, slow- ly. He seemed tg have a curious idea that the woman who came there was not alone. He told me once that he heard the voice of a man outside the cabin; he heard a man ride away down into the town that night; he was sure of it.” “And the woman—what was she like—the woman who stole my for- tune?” She was small and dark, with very bright eyes, with what we call a ‘snap’ in them,” replied the old man. “She was constantly listening while she was in the cabin, as though ex- pecting pursuit; her one object seem- ed to be to get away.” “And she went off with the papers and with the man?” asked Grace. »,” said the old man, slowly. our father had a curious idea again that she went to the door a second time when the man called for her, and sent him off alone; it was some time after that that she rode away.” “And she gave no clue as to where she was going then; nothing that my father could remember?” “Your father wasn’t very reliable that night,” said the old man, gently, “but he thought he heard San Fran- cisco mentioned. Perhaps they were to meet there. However, it doesn’t matter much; she must come to Eng- land to do anything. And if we find her at all, it will be at Hawley Park, Surrey.” The listener nodded grimly and smiled again; it seemed as though he had heard what he wanted. He wait- ed until the old man and the girl had finished their meal and had applied to the proprietress to be shown to their quarters for the night. Then, when they had disappeared, he rose and stretched himself, and shook himself, and laughed again—this time out loud. “It was a mighty lucky thing that made me fix an, eye on that girl,” he muttered to himself. “I'll own in the first case it was because she happened to be the prettiest girl on the ship; and I have a weakness for a pretty face,” he added, twirling one end of his small mustache. “I’m not quite clear yet as to how the business stan or what it is Joyce is after. If t girl who is with the old patri- arch really Grace Yarwood, then there'll be two of ‘em knocking around. I really think I’ll tackle the old man.” He had made careful note of the directions given by the landlady as to the floor on which the bedrooms were situated. Going up presently to his own, he listened outside the room in which he judged the old man to be, and, hearing a low, deep breathing go- ing on, made up his mind that his quarry was there. In the easiest, most cheerful fashion possible, he flung open the door, and, humming a tune, strode into the room. Enoch Flame was seated on the side of his bed, partially undressed. He stared at the intruder for a moment, before that intruder appeared to sce the mistake he had made; then the younger man stopped, in apparent confusion, and drew back. ‘Well, I’m sure, I beg your pardon,” he said, in deep humility. “I thought this was my room. I expect mine’s further on. I’m extremely sorry.” He was withdrawing from the room, with more murmured apologies, when the old man spoke in a cordial voice. “I believe we have met before, sir,” he said. “Didn’t you land at South- ampton to-night?” The other man stopped at the door and turned and smiled, as if in tardy recognition of the old man. “Why, of course; didn’t we sail from Pana- ma together—you and the young lady and me? Well, what an extraordinary thing that I should come to the same place in this first town. we’ve struck in England! Im glad, I’m sure; is the young lady well after her long voy- age?” The stranger was so affable, and talked so pleasantly of that voyage of theirs, that old Enoch Flame was quite willing to chat with him for a little while before turning in. For a time they talked on quite ordinary matters and mutually regretted that they were to part after what had been a pleasant voyage. Suddenly the stranger began to speak of what was quite a personal matter. “Pleasant voyage we had, altogeth- er,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I'd come on from San Francisco and was making for England—for a curious reason. It concerned a woman.” “Most things do in this world,” said Flame, with a short laugh. “A woman I’d known in Nevada,” said the other, stretching out a hand and looking at it, while he doubled up the supple fingers and stretched them out again. “She was to meet me in San Francisco; she didn’t do so.” “Nothing new in that, my friend,” said the old man. “Then change their | minds—bless ’em—every day in the week.” ' “Pretty low down I was in San Francisco,” went on the other, medi- tatively. “Short of money—short of everything; and waiting all the time for that’'woman. Didn’t find her, after all, but came across something con- cerning her in a curious way.” Enoch was listening courteously, and stifling a yawn or two at inter- vals. “I was lounging round a horse deal- er’s one day, and I lighted on a mare I knew—her mare. Last time I’d seen her on that mare was one night when ‘she rode with me down to some un- known, outlandish town in Nevada, and came on a cabin in the wilder- ness—outside the town itself. Pretty hot running it had been that day, and we were looking for shelter.” Enoch flame had stopped a yawn in the middle and seemed to be very still. The other man went on, speak- ing carelessly enough. “And there was the mare, at this horse dealer’s in San Francisco. I knew the beast in a ‘moment, and I couldn’t understand how she’d got there. I knew the man slightly who had bought her, and I began to make inquiries. The woman I was after had been there a few days back and had sold the mare. The funny thing, was, though, that she had given the man a name that wasn’t hers to give.” “What was that for?” asked Enoch Flame, watching him closely. “Heaven knows; she was always a tricky sort. Curiously enough, the man had got the name put down in his books; I suppose he had an idea that the mare was stolen and he might be able.to trace her. said that she was starting straight away for England, going first to New York; the name she gave was ‘Grace Yarwood.’” The figure of the old man stiffened suddenly and his hands gripped the edge of the bed; for a moment or two he did not speak. When at last he got out words, his voice was aitogether different from that the stranger had heard before. “Why did she choose that name?” he asked. “And why do you tell me this story?” “I thought I’d like to tell some one,” said the man. “If she wanted to be quit of me, she might have done it without taking another name, mightn’t she? _Can’t quite make out why she should take that name.” In the mind of the old man was the suspicion that this affable stranger knew more about the business than he cared to say—the feeling that this was no mere coincidence. On the oth- er hand it was imperative that he should know all he could about this woman who had taken the name of the girl who was then in that house. He resolved to try to find out some- thing more. “What was the real name of the woman?” he asked. “I don’t know that I need to tell you that,” the younger man replied, slow- ly. “It might have been only a freak that she should have taken that name, after all, and I wouldn’t like to get her into trouble. Come to that, I don’t quite know what made me tell you the story; I’m a lonely man, with no one much to talk to. Where are you and the young lady going, now you’ve reached England?” he asked, carelessly. “We—we have no settled plans,” said Enoch. Then, as the other man rose and prepared to quit the room, Enoch suddenly sprang up and put himself between the stranger and the door. ‘No, you shan’t go like that,” he said, in that curious, restrained voice which told the visitor that the girl was probably in the next room and might overhear- what was said. “Who are you, and who is this woman who masquerades in a name that does not belong to her?” “Well, how does it concern you?” asked the younger man. “What have you to do with Grace Yarwood?” “This to do with her: that the young girl who travels with me under my name and as my daughter is the real Grace Yarwood, heiress to one of the biggest fortunes in England. This woman whom you lost in San Francisco and who has come to Eng- land, obtained all the papers belong- ing to the real Grace Yarwood by means of a trick. She believed the girl to be dead. She left her dying of a fever on that night she rode away from the little ruined town in Nevada. If she has reached England with those papers she is probably at the present time enjoying the fortune.” The man. gave a long whistle of sur- prise and laughed softly. “Gad! she’s cuter than I gave her credit for,” he exclaimed. “She want- ed to be quit of me, and this was an easy way. My friend,” he added, turning to the old man, “it looks very much as if there was going to be sport before we’re through with this busi- ness. If it comes to a real fight, I think I’ll back Joyce Bland to win.” “But the moment the girl who is the real heiress puts in an appearance she can claim what is hers by right.” “And Joyce holds the papers,” said the other, quietly. “Seems to me she’s got the whip hand so far.” “But yeu—you know who this wom- The woman had | ‘an fs, and all about her,” 3 ex Enoch Flame, quickly, “You will surely help this poor girl to claim what has been. stolen from her?” “I’m not so sure about that,” replied the other. “For the present I think T'll hold my hand; I don’t quite know which card to play. Besides, I’m not sure how it stands between me and Joyce; there’s something to be set- tled between us when we meet. So that you see I won’t decide one way or the other yet.” “But you shall speak,” cried the old man, excitedly. “You are the witness we want, to declare what the fraud is. Now I have you, I don’t mean to let you go.” “Oh, I think you will,” said the younger man, with a laugh. “You can’t make me speak, you know; you can rouse the house if you like, and I shall simply declare I don’t know what you’re talking about, and that I never heard of Joyce Bland or Grace Yarwood in all my life. You’d better wait; I may come round to your way of thinking ,after all, if I can’t play the game I want with Joyce. Much better wait.” . The old man saw in a moment the futility of attempting to hold the man, or to extract anything from him by threats. “At least tell me,” he plead- ed, “who you are and where I can find you.” “At the other side of the’ world I mightn’t have cared to let you know my name; it doesn’t matter here. Be- sides, you won’t want to blab it out to every one. My name is Owen Jag- gard, badly wanted in the State of Nevada for shooting his man in a fair business, when that man had the chance to draw, but wasn’t quick enough. And I’m going to find this Miss Grace Yarwood, at her country estate of Hawley Park, in the county of Surrey.” “How did you know the place?” in astonishment. “A mere accident,” replied the oth- er, with a grin. “Let us conclude that we may meet again, my friend; whether I shall play the friend or the foe, I don’t quite know yet—you never do know, in this world, when it de pends on a woman. Good night!” He strolled out of the room in his usual nonchalent fashion, leaving the old man alone. Mr. Owen Jaggard was astir early in the morning, and had left the house long before his fel- low passengers were awake. He wended his way to the railway sta- tion and made casual inquiries here and there in regard to a certain Haw- ley Park, and the nearest way to reach it. It was still quite early when he found himself in a train, speeding away in quest of Joyce Bland. He got out at the little country sta- tion without attracting attention, and set off on a road. More casual in- quiries caused rustic arms to point in one direction, and one direction only. With the instinct of a man who has lived all his life in wild places, he “took to the woods,” to use his own expression, and so avoided roads alto- gether, and in that way came to a gate in a fence; and over that gate he leaned, and watched the great house in the distance. His patience was rewarded in a very little while; a woman came out through some French ‘windows, and sauntered listlessly up and down on the sunlit terrace. He watched her “with keen eyes, and laughed softly to himself. “She’s playing the game as it might have been expected she would play it,” he murmured, in a tone of admiration. “Seems almost a pity to break in on such a pretty scene and spoil the pic- ture. But we’ve been too long in the same firm, old girl, to break up the partnership now—especially when you seem to have struck it so rich. You’ve begun a new life, my dear, and got away clean from the old one. I think I'll begin a new life, too—because I’ve escaped from the old one also. And we won't be far apart, Joyce, if [know anything,” he added, grimly. (To Be Continued.) PROBLEM IN ENGINEERING. What Stumped the Scotchman When He Came to America. A Scotchman who had been em- ployed nearly all his life in the build- ing of railways in the Highlands of Scotland went to the United States in his later years and settled in a new section of the plains of the far West. Soon after his arrival a project came up in his new home for the construc- tion of a railroad through the district, and the Scotchman was appealed to as a man of experience in such mat- ters. “Hoot, mon,” said he to the spokes- man of the scheme, “ye canna build a railway across the country.” “Why not, Mr. Ferguson?” “Why not?” he repeated, with an air of effectually settling the whole matter. ‘Why not? Dae ye no see the country’s as flat as a floor and ye dinna hae ony place whatever to run your tunnels through.”—London Spare Moments. As Sister Saw Him. “Are your shoes sure enough too tight for you, Mr. Closefist?” “Indeed they are, Johnny; get me a larger pair.” “But why don’t you just make your- self fit ’em?” “Why, what an idea. How could I do that?” “I don’t know; but sister says you can be mighty small when you feel like it.”—Houston Post. - I must Not Her Turn. “I don’t care to tell madame how fine she looks in that gown,” said the modiste, standing off to admire it. It would turn her head.” “But I want to make it turn other women’s heads,” protested the state- ly dame, frowning at herself im the mirror.—Chicago Tribune, . A Blighted Career. ‘ Yhey were praising Plato for the fidelity with which he had recorded for the consolation and enlightenment of posterity the last words of Socra- tes. “Well, no,” said Plato, “I have never really disclosed them, but it can do no harm now. The last words he uttered —and he spoke them with the bitter. est emotions of regret—were these: ‘After all, friends, I feel that my life has been a failure! There is no brand of 5-cent cigars named after’ me!’ However,” added Plato, brightening up, “the version I have given ia the school text books sounds better.”— Chicago Tribune. Honest Wraggles. “You look to me,” remarked the se- vere old gentleman, “like a man who would spend the last penny for. beer!” “You do me an injustice,” retorted Weary Wraggles, “an’ also show your- self lacking in information, sir. You can’t git no beer for a penny. I would play my last one inter de slot machine in hopes of gittin’ a chip good fer a whole glass of de fluid. See?”—Cin- cinnati Times-Star. In the Spring. Lowndes, Mo., April 4th.—Mrs. H. C. Harty of this place says: “For years I was in very bad health. Every spring I would get so low taat I was unable to do my own work. I seemed to be worse in the spring than any other time of the year. I was very weak and miserable and had much pain. in my back and head. I saw Dodd’s Kidney Pills advertised last spring and.began treatment of them and they have certainly done me more good than anything I have ever used. “I was all right last spring and felt better than I have for over ten years. I am fifty years of age and am strong- er to-day than I have been for many years, and I give Dodid’s Kidney Pills credit for the wonderful improve- ment.” The statement of Mrs. Harty is only one of a great many where Dodd’s Kidney Pills have proven themselves to be the very best spring medicine. They are unsurpassed as a tonic and are the only medicine used in thou- sands of families. Not to Be Fooled. Teacher—Johnny, what is adamant? Johnny—You can’t fool me. Adam never had no aunt—Comfort. Ask Your Dealer For Allen’s Foot-ase, A powder. It rests the feet. Cures Corns, Bunions, Swollen, Sore, Hot, Callous, Aching Sweating Feet and Ingrowing Nails. Allen's Foot-Ease makes new or tight shoes easy. At all Druggists and Shoe stores, 25cents. Ac- cept no substitute. Sample mailed FREE Address Allen S. Olmsted, Le Roy, N. Y. Butted in Again. “Where have you been all this time?” asked Mr. Makibrakes, shak- ing him cordially by the hand. “Beer serving on a jury,” replied the other man. “T can sympathize with you,” said Mr. Makinbrakes. It must have been a good deal of a bore. Isn’t it curious, by the way, that they always seem to want ignoramuses on a jury nowa- days? They never take anybody that —that, of course, I mean as a general thing, for they do once in a while get a man of intelligence—I’m not speak- ing of you, of course—I don’t know whether you get exactly what I’m driv- ing at or not, but—but—the fact is, I —I—that’s a mighty fine stickpin you’re wearing, old chap. Where did you get it?”—Chicago Tribune. Something Needed. “We are about to put a new piano on the market that we are sure will fill a long-felt want,” said the manufac- turer. “What will you call it?” : “We shall call it the Cozy Flat Pi- ano.” “why?” “Because it’s about twice as high as an ordinary piano, but only about half its thickness; just right for a cozy flat.’—-Chicago Post. EMPTY NOW. How One Woman Quit Medicine. “While a coffee user my stomach troubled me for years,” says a lady of Columbus, O., “and I had to take med- icine all the time. I had what I thought was the best stomach medicine , I could get, had to keep getting it filled all the time at 40 cents a bottle. I did not know what the cause of my trou- ble was but just dragged along from day to day, suffering and taking medi- cine all the time. “About six months ago I quit tea and coffee and began drinking Postum and I have not had my prescription filled: since, which is a great surprise to me, for it proves that coffee was the cause of all my trouble although I never suspected it. ‘a “When my friends ask me how I feel'since I have been taking Postum I say, ‘To tell the truth I don’t feel at all only that I get hungry and eat everything I want and lots of it and it never hurts me and I am happy and well and conterited all the time.’ “I could not get my family to drink Postum for a while until I mixed it in a little coffee and kept on reducing the amount of coffee until I got it all Pos- tum. Now they all like it and they never belch it up like coffee. “We all know that Postum is a sun- shine maker. I findit helps one great- ly for we do not have to think of aches and pains all the time and can use our minds for other things.” Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. The one who has to bother with coffee aches and pains is badly handi- capped in the race for fame and for- tune. Postum is a wonderful rebuild- er. There’s a reason. Look in each package for the fam- ous little book, “The Road to Well- ville.” pr tim Marriage Amenities. Mrs. Literati (to huseand)—I went ‘to the club to-day, and was elected chairman of a committee, although I didn’t open my mouth once in the meeting. Her Husband—Well, if you had opened you mouth you probably would not have been elected—Woman’s Home Companion. Usefulness Not Impaired. Husband (of popular author)—Do you mean to tell me, doctor, that my wife is insane? “No, not so bad as that, but she is hopelessly foolish.” “Well, that’s a relief. I was afraid her usefulness as a writer was im- paired.” —Life. . “By Jove! never thought of it—(hic)—I’ve a jolly good mindsh to go and get drunksh!” Thish ish my birthday. I A Russian Password. “Petroff.” “Yes, lieutenant.” “The countersign for to-night is Al- exandrovitchykopfostovsk y dr ag o- vitch. Let no man pass without it.” “Yes, lieutenant. But it is a bitter cold night.” “What of that?” “The man who gives the password is likely to freeze to death before he finishes it.” “It is for the glory of the czar, Petroft.” “Yes, lieutenant.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. The Next Day. “T understand that you were in a little trouble that started in the par- lor social?” “Dat’s what I were,” answered Mr. Erastus Pinkley. “Dar was a feller wif a razzer dat chose me for de oppo- site gemman in a trouble quadrille.” “But you came out best in the long run.” “Yessir, I did. But I mus’ say it were one o’ de longes’ runs I ebber had.”—Washington Star. Unnecessary. Kind Lady—But if I give you this dime I’m afraid I will be encouraging you to take a drink. Thirsty Tim—Don’t youse be erlarm- ed on dat score, lady. When it comes ter takin’ er drink I don’t néed no en- couragement. Geographical Changes. “I don’t see any use in having wars in this advanced age,” remarked Mrs. Suburba, turning up the lamp. “If you were a mapmaker,” replied Mr. Suburba, glancing up from the new atlas on his knees, “you probably would.” A Definition. Mamma—Yes, Willie. Your father is going to buy this picture. He’s a connoisseur. Do you know what that is? Willie—Yep. It’s a old guy what'll dig up a hundred for a dinky picture when his dear little son’s sufferin’ for a billy-goat an’ wagon! It All Depends. “Do you believe in second mar- riages, Mr. Slimpurse?” asked the fait divorcee. “Well—er—that depends,” replied the cautious Mr. S. “How much—er —alimony did you get out of your first?” : A Sure Sign. “Well, I guess old Slyman is be ginning to make his pile.” “Why do you think so?” “He’s going around blowing about how much happier a man is when he’s poor.” REACH THE SPOT. To cure an ach- Pai ing back, % The pains of rheumatism, The tired out feelings, You must reach the spot—get at the cause. In most cases ’tis the kidneys. Doan’s Kidney =*| Pills are for the kidneys. Chas. Bierbach, stone contractor, Chestnut St., Erie, Pa., says: “For two years I had kid- ney trouble and there was such a severe paim through my loins and limbs that I could not stoop or straighten up without great pain, had difficulty in getting about and was unable to rest at night, arising in the morning tired and worn out. The kidney secretions were irregular and deposited a heavy sediment. Doctors treated me for rheumatism, but failed to help me. I lost all confidence in medicine and began to feel as if life were not worth living. Doan’s Kidney Pills, however, relieved me so quickly and so thoroughly that I gladly made a statement to that effect for publica- tion. This was in 1898, and during the six years which have elapsed I have never known Doan’s Kidney Pills to fail. They cured my wife of a severe case of backache in the same thor- ough manner.” A FREE TRIAL of this great kid- ney medicine which cured Mr. Bier- bach will be mailed on application to any part of the United States. Ad- dress Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. For sale by all druggists, price 50 cents per box. Popular Bostonian. Horner—You saw Melcher, did you? Well, did he tell you any lies? Skinner—What are you driving at? He was saying— Horner—Oh, then he did lie to you! How’s This? | ‘We offer One Hundred Dollars Reward for any tase of Catarrh that cannot be cured by Hall's Catarrh Cure. F. J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, 0. We, the undersigned, have known F. J. Cheney for the last 15 years, and believe him perfectly hon- orable in all business transactions and financially able to carry out any obligations made by his firm. WaLbine, KINNAN & MARVIN, ‘Wholesale Druggists, Tuledo, 0. Hall's Catarrh Cure is taken internally, acting directly upon the blood and mucous surfaces of the system. Testimonials sent free. Price 75 cents per bottle. Sold by all Druggists. ‘Take Hall’s Family Pilis for constipation, PATENTS. List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. Charles F. Blackketter, Minneapo- lis, Minn., wind engine; William Brown, St. Paul, Minn., shock squeez- Ing device; John Bryant, Minneapolis, Minn., window weight; Christine Fly- gare, Minneapolis, Minn., baking ap- paratus; Thorgis Halldorson, Moun- tain, N. D., motor sled; Nels Granta Larsen, St. Paul, Minn., fire escape, Lothrop & Johnson, patent lawyers, 911 and 912 Pioneer Press Bldg., St. Paul. The less there is required of a man, the harder it is to get him to do it satisfactorily. For 61.65 Money Order. The John A. Salzer Seed Co., La Crosse, Wis., mail postpaid 15 trees, consisting of Apricots, Apples, Crabs, Cherries, Plums, Peaches and Pears, just the thing for a city or country garden, including the great Bismark Apple, all hardy Wisconsin stock, are sent you free upon receipt of $1.65. AND FOR 16c AND THIS NOTICE. you get sufficient seed of Celery, Car- rot, Cabbage, Onion, Lettuce, Radish and Flower Seeds to furnish bushels of choice flowers and lots of vegetables for a big family, together with our great plant and seed catalog.(W. N. U.> A little touch of sympathy and pity is the anchor that saves many a life form drifting upon the reefs. DAN PATCH, 1:5614 ; Is the past est ne rns horse in the world. His driver, E. McHenry, one of the greatest trainers, writes: “Spohn’s Dis- temper Cure is wonderful in what is does to cure and prevent distemper. With it I kept Dan Patch in racing form. I have not seen its equal.” What is good enough for Dan Patch should do quite well for any other horse. 60 cents a bottle, $5 dozen, of druggists, or sent express paid, hv Snohn Medical Co., Bacteriologists, Goshen, Ind. , The fact that you have done your best is no guarantee that what you have done is right. Mother Gray’s Sweet Powders for Children, Successfully used by Mother Gray, nurse in the Children’s Home in New York, cure Constipation, Feverishness, Bad Stomach, Teething Disorders, move and regulate the Bowels and Destroy Worms. Over 30,000 testimonials. At all druggists, 25c. Sample FREE. Address A.S. Olmsted, Le Roy,N.¥. Whether an action is a favor or a compliment depends upon who makes the request for service. Wiggle-Stick LAUNDRY BLUE Won't spill, break, freeze nor spot clothes. Costs 10 cents and equals 20 cents worth of any other bluing. If your grocer does not keep it send 10c for sample to The Laundry Blue Co., 14 Michigan Street, Chicago. Our desire is to make others good; our duty is to make them happy. Piso’s Cure cannot be too highly spoken of ag scough cure.—J. W. O'BRIEN, 322 Third Ave, N., Minneapolis, Minn., Jan. 6, 1900, He who works for the human race has a good show in the heavenly race. To Cure a Cold in One day, Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. AD druggistsrefund money if it failstocure. 250, He who gives the world the most always finds he owes it most. The devil would have no dupes if he had no decoys.