Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, June 11, 1904, Page 6

By Tom Gallon DOOOO0Ro0o0ea 0 CO WODOODOOOORoE CHAPTER 1X.—(Continued.) She had built so much on that—had been so sure that she could secure him, and so range him beside her to fight whatever battle might be neces- sary; and she had failed. Her woman’s instinct told her that if there had been any real hope he would not have put the matter off then. If, in the future, he turned to her at all, it would be be- cause that was the only way to secure the fortune; and even she recognized that he was the kind of a man who might refuse to turn to her on those terms. After a little while, however, she began to look at the matter more calm- ly—began to see it from her own worldly standpoint. He would inevit- ably come back to her, if only for the sake of the power she held; it would be a bargain, at least, and she would secure him and the fortune as well; after that the future might take care of itself. Everything would be right, because he must inevitably recognize that everything was in her hands. There came, however, the disturb- ing thought that she might after all be discovered in her real character. This man, Owen Jaggard, was actually on the estate—was to sleep that very night in the ruined cottage inhabited by that other arch-conspirator, Roger | Hawley. They were to have another | night in which to plot and plan; they were to be able to bring down disaster upon her in a moment—just when it suited them best. She set her lips in a sudden, quick determination, and went to a window and looked out across the grounds towards that de- serted and neglected corner wherein the cottage stood. er eae “Both in hiding, and both for differ- ent reasons,” she said softly to her- self. “No one knows where Roger Hawley is; no one knows, in all prob- ability, that Owen Jaggard is in Eng- land. An accident such as might hap- pen to any one, and the only man who knows, and the only man who sus- pects, both gone.” . She turned away from the window hurriedly and gave a quick laugh that seemed to hurt her, and rang the bell. The maid Janet appeared. “Janet, [ don’t want you to wait for me to-night, as you’ve done before; it’s not quite fair to you,” she said, without looking at the girl. “I am a restless sort of person,” she added, with a smile, “and I sometimes wan- der about half the night. Go to bed early and leave me.” “T don’t mind waiting in the least, miss,” said the girl. “I know that, Janet, thank you,” she replied, with grateful look at the girl. “But I insist.” So it happened that the lights grad- ually disappeared from the great house and all the servants went to bed. The doors were locked as usual; the only light anywhere was in the little, dainty sitting room occupied by the mistress of Hawley Park. And it was nearly 2 o'clock in the morning before that was extinguished. But Joyce Bland came creeping down a little staircase built in a corner of the house, and stealthily unlocked a door at the foot of the stairs. Then, keeping close in the shadow of the trees, and stopping every now and then, with a trembling hand against her breast, she sped on across the grounds, and came at last to the place outside which she had watched on the previous night—the ruined gardener’s cottage, half-hidden in the tangled un- dergrowth. She was not there very long, and she went about such work as she had to do deftly. It was an easy matter to collect a pile of twigs and dry leaves and such like refuse and lay it all softly against the wooden door. When at last she crept away from the place a thin, blue column of smoke was curling up toward the starlit sky. By the time had got back to her room there waS an angry red glare blotting out the stars in the distance, and every now and then a shower of sparks was flung up against the sky. She sat at her window a long -time watching it, and wondering what news as O | would be brought to her in the morn- ing. CHAPTER X. Owen Shows His Cards. The two men in the ruined cottage were both prepared to make the best of the accommodation the place of- fered; Owen Jaggard because he had been used all his life to roughing it; Roger Hawley because there was busi- ness on hand, and he liked to feel that he was on the spot, as it were. Asa matter of fact, Roger Hawley had ven- tured down to the camp of the gipsies during the day, and had there found Jaggard lurking about in an undecided fashion. The two men had gone back again together toward the cottage. “Well, and what have you done?” asked Roger Hawley, as they strode of time, you know. The Grace Yar- wood up at the hotise won’t run away, and she’s the one I’m interested in. I wanted to give her time; I think I'll go and see her to-morrow. No need to rush things, you understand.” It was late in the afternoon when Roger Hawley re-entered the cottage, followed by Owen Jaggard. The wick- er-covered bottle was produced again, and Jaggard found in one of his pock- ets a greasy pack of cards; they played desultory games to while away the time. At last Roger Hawley, with that idea of keeping Jaggard in sight for future use ,if necessary, suggested casually enough that he should stop in the cottage. “You migbt as well sleep here as to go anywhere else,” he said. “There’s some liquor still left, and I suppose you’re not above sleeping on a rug at a pinch, eh?” “ “I’ve slept on the baré ground many a time,” said Jaggard. “Yes, I will stay. After all, we’re working togeth- er, in a way, and you'r ethe only com- pany I can discover for myself just at present. So we’ll make a night of it.” It was quite late when Owen Jaggard drained his last glass, pulled an old rug about him and dropped to the floor. He was asleep in less than a minute. The other man, more restless, moved softly about the room for a little while and even went to the door once to look out into the night. But presently he. too, stretched himself out and slept also. Curiously enough, Hawley slept the sounder, after all; it was Jaggard who wakened. He had an uneasy dream that he was flying for his life again over the hot, dusty plains, with Joyce racing along beside him; he had had that dream on many and many a night since he lost her in Nevada. Only on this occasion he was not pursued by men, but by fire; the very dust seemed to rise at him, swept up by a strong, hot wind that roared after him, and turned by the wind into flames as it rose. Gradually the flaming dust gain- ed upon them and_ scorched their clothes; gradually got in front of them and beat into their faces, so that it was hard to breathe. And then Owen Jaggard fought himself awake and. found the dream had grown into a real- ity. é The place was filled with thick, suffo- cating smoke, and he could hear the roar of the flames in the thatch over- head—could see light of them licking up the crazy door. He sprang to his feet and caught up a chair, dashed dashed straight at the window, and with three or four heav yblows sent the rotten shutters and the window frames flying outward) Then, as he stumbled over the prostrate form of Roger Hawley, he literally kicked him into consciousness and dragged him to- ward the window. The two men scrambled out together, just as one crumbling wall came toppling in and covered the place where they had lain but a minute or two before. , They sat on the ground at a little distance away, panting and looking into each other’s faces, and smiling somewhat faintly. “That was a near thing,” said Roger Hawley at last, as he drew a deep breath. “Seems to me you saved my life,” he added. “Lucky to save my own,” was the retort of Jaggard. “I wonder which of us was responsible; I mean which oné dropped a match or spark. I don’t think I did. I hadn’t been smoking for a good half hour before I dropped asleep.” “Well, I swear I wasn’t,” said Haw- ley. “Why, I remember putting my pipe in my pocket cold and going to have a look at the weather before I dropped down. It’s very strange.” “Well, it’s no use sitting talking about it,” said Owen Jaggard; “we shall have some one from the house here directly if they see that light, or else have half the town up to try and put it out. Seems to me we’d better clear.” # “I want to have a look»at it first,” replied the other. “The wind has car- ried the fire away to the back of the cottage; I want to have a lo0k at the front.” They both went cautiously near to the blazing ruin; Roger Hawley walk- ed straight up to where the door had been, and stirred up a heap of smol- dering rubbish with his foot, sending up a little shower of sparks. Then with a very grave and thoughtful face he came back to where Jaggard was standing, but said nothing. Jaggard jerked his head down toward the direc- tion of the town, and then stood to listen. M 4 “I thought so—a mob of ’em,” he said. ‘We'd better get out. Lucky it’s fine; we must finish our sleep out in the woods.” Nothing more was said until Owen Jaggard and Roger Hawley lay on their backs in the scented woods, looking up at the branches overhead and listen- ing to the rustle of the wind in the trees. Then Jaggard spoke abruptly. “You know something about this fire; you found something when you along together. “I’m anxious about you, you know, because in a sense we are rivals, in that we are backiny; two separate women, and must wait to see who wins. What have you done?” . “Nothing yet,” said Jaggard. “Plenty went back; what was it?” he demand- ed. “A lot of leaves and twigs and dead rubbis hhad been piled against the door after we went in; couldn‘t have been there before, because we should have disturbed it,” he added. “There were two or three good armfuls. The fire had been started by somebody— outside. “I found, something, too,” said Jag- gard, slowly. “Hanging on a thorn, about fifty yards from the place, be-! side the path, I found this—a piece of fine black lace—part of a woman’s dress Queer, isn’t it?” “Very,” replied Roger Hawley. “Looks almost as if some one knew we'd been there, and thought it might be a handy way of getting rid of us, eh? By the way, did you tell any one you’d be with me to-night?” 1 “How could I? I didn’t know it my- self until I saw you, and we hayen’t spoken to a soul since. Did you tell any one I should be here?” Roger Hawley was about to deny that he had, in perfect good faith, when he remembered the words he had used to Joyce, Bland in his interview with her. He remembered that he had said he should keep a sharp look-out on Owen Jaggard and should have him with him that night. He sat up slowly and turned and looked at the other man. F “Well,” said Jaggard, “I see you did. You needn’t tell me,” he added, bitter- ly. “I’ve guessed it for myself. Be- sides, this is my business, and I’ve got to see it through more than ever. I’ve got to find out where this bit of black lace came from, and when I find out— Good night!” Roger Hawley, philosophically tell- ing himself that he could do nothing until daylight, turned over and went to sleep as composedly as if he had been in his bed. When he awoke in the morning and turned over, with only a hazy recollection of where he was or how he had got there, his compan- ion was gone. “It looks as if there would be fire- works before night,” he said, yawning and stretching himself. “Perhaps, when everybody else has been burnt out, or when they’ve finished plotting against each other and trying to kill each other, I may walk in comfortably at the death and make arrangements for myself. Always better to let some- body else do the fighting, if you can, and then go and view the battlefield calmly and respectably afterwards.” Meanwhile Joyce Bland had spent the night at the window of her room— watching. She saw the flames in the distance reach to their full height; heard the excited cries of those who had come to subdue them; heard the clanging of the great bell in the house, what time some one came to inform her of the fire. She expressed, of course, the greatest surprise and re- gret when she heard of the occurrence from her maid. “Let’s be thankful, at least, Janet, that the place was empty,” she ob- served, piously. “Of course, there is always a possibility that some tramp may have got in for shelter, and may have set fire to the place accidentally. Tell them to give instructions that the place shall be searched carefully as soon as possible.” The maid withdrew, and Joyce took up her position’ again at the window and watched for the coming of day. She rehearsed to herself the scene that must surely follow: the coming of the messengers to tell her of the finding of | two bodies among the ruins—bodies burnt beyond recognition; she felt that she could play her part rather well, and could be very sincere in the mat- ter of grief. She had been careful to undress, al- though she had made no attempt to sleep; the maid had found her appar- ently just roused from her bed. Now she dressed herself for the day and once again took up her place at the window. She thought how slow they were; she wondered if they would ever come to bring the news. A man coming at last, though not from the direction of the fire. She watched him when he was. quite a long way off; and then, with a dreadful cer- tainty, began to finderstand that she knew who he was, and _ recognized | something familiar in his walk. She watched him, fascinated, while he! came on toward the house. It was Owen Jaggard. (To Be Continued.) PSYCHOLOGY WAS DERAILED. Subject Not for Hearst, Sickness Made Him Look That Way. i A stranger walked into the lobby of the Masury hotel recently and began to descant on the wonders of psychol- ogy. He said he was a specialist in that branch of science and talked for some time about the effect a man’s opinions have upon his personal ap- pearance. “Why,” he continued, ‘I can look at} a man and tell his political preference. It is a very simp! ematter to tell a Democrat from a Republican. Down here you are all Democrats, but though it is a hard task, I can tell a man’s fa- vorite for the presidential nomination by looking at him.” “Cigars for the crowd that you can’t.” said a bystander. “Done!” said the mind-reader. “You yourself are for Cleveland.” He was right, but the scoffer mut. tered, “An accident.” “You,” he ‘said to another, “prefer Parker.” He was right again, and “Wonder- ful,” said the crowd. Turning to a third, he said: you’re for Hearst.” “You are a liar!” was the unexpect- ed response. “I have been sick; that is the reason I look this way.”—Thom- asville (Ga.) Times. | “and Salvation in Disguise. } The sultan, backed by British diplo- macy, having put a practically prohib- itive price on the passage of the Rus- sian Black Sea fleet through the Dar- danelles, it looks now as if these ves: ' sels would, by force of circumstances, | be saved from destruction.—Indianapo lis News. The Improvidents. ¥ “The grocer ‘sent his bill to-day, and what do you think he charged us for butter?” “How much?” 4 “Twenty-eight cents a pound.” “Good land! It’s downright rob- bery. No wonder we’re always poor. By the way, dear, I found a parrot to- day that talks in three languages. js’he man wants only $10 for it.” “What a bargain! We must have the bird, by all means.” * No Reflected Glory for Him. “After all, what’s the use marrying a woman who has the ability to make herself famous?” “Well, a wife of that kind, you know, may make herself known to poster- “Nothing of the kind. Consider the case of Mme. Du _ Barry’s husband. I'll bet $40 that nine out of every ten people honestly believe there never was a Mr. Du Barry.” Good Reason. Grace—He says Friday is his un- lucky day. Marie—Why, do you suppose? Grace—Oh, I guess he was born on that day.—Philadelphia Bulletin. Worse Than Green Goods. Uncle Wayback—I jus’ tell you, th’ city is an awful place. Skin yeh alive there. Farmer Meadow (gloomily)—That’s sO. Uncle Wayback—Eh? Did yeh meet some green goods men while you was in th’ city? Farmer Meadow—No.o, but my wife met some dry goods men.—New York Weekly. Peace to His Ashes. Mrs. DeSwell—“You seem to be a great lover of the weed, Mr. Puffing- ton. Does your father smoke as much as you do?” Puffington—“Well, not.” Mrs. mean?” Puffington—“He has been dead ten years.” I should hope DeSwell—“What do you It Worried Him. “That land,” said the city nephew, “is valued at $800 a front foot.” “Thunderation!” exclaimed the old farmer, hastily moving back onto the sidewalk. “An’ I stood on it most five minutes! Do you reckon they'll charge me rent?” One Better. She—What is nobler than a man you can trust? He—One who will trust you. Then They Wouldn’t Have Met. “Is it becoming to me?” asked she, as she paraded, in the costume of 100 years ago, before the man who is not her lord and master, but is her hus- band. “Yes, my dear,” said he, meekly. “Don’t you wish I could dress this way all the time?” she asked. “No, my dear,” he replied; “but I wish you had lived when that was the style.” Just a Scheme. Mrs. Gaussip—I think you ought to know this, Mrs. Subbubs. Your hus- band kisses your cook. Mrs. Subbubs—Yes, I told him to do it. You see the cook thinks she is getting ahead of me in that way and so she never thinks of leaving. Destructive Styles in the Kitchen. Lady of the House—Lorena; you break more china and glass than any cook we ever had. Lorena—I can’t help it, ma’am; it’s these big sleeves drags ’em offen the tables. 4 Hi To bea successful wife, to retain the love | wih \ and admiration of her husband should be a woman's constant study. Mrs. Potts tell their Mrs. Brown and stories for the benefit of all wives and mothers. “DeaR Mrs. Pincsaam:— Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Come pound will make every mother well,.strong, healthy through nine years of miserable existence, worn out V nd happy. ith pain and weariness. ‘I then noticed a statement of a woman troubled as I was, and the wonderful results she had had from your Vegetable Compound, and decided to try what it would do for me, and used it for three months. was a different woman, the neighbors love with me all over again. It seemed like a new existence. At the end of that time I remarked it, and my husband fell in I had been suf- fering with inflammation and falling of the womb, but your medicine cured that and built up my entire system, till I was indeed like a new woman. — Sincerely yours, Mrs. Cuas. F. Browy, Vice President Mothers’.Club.” » 21 Cedar Terrace, Hot Springs, Ark., Suffering women should not fail to profit by Mrs. Brown’s exe periences ; just as. surely as she was cured of the troubles enumer- atedin her letter, just so surely will Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound cure other women who suffer rom womb troubles, ‘inflammation of the ovaries, kidney troubles, nervous excitability. and nervous prostration. Read the story of Mrs. Potts to all mothers: — art came wish Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound in health. my husband and I felt very badly as we were afixious to have children. had been using Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound advised me to try it, and I decided to do so. my appetite was increasing, the headaches gradually decreased and finally disappeared, and my general health improved. I felt as if new blood coursed through my veins, the sluggish tired feeling disappeared, and I be- “ Dear Mrs. Pryxmam:— During the early of my married life I was very delicate I had two miscarriages, and both A neighbor who I soon felt that strong and well. ‘‘ Within a year after I became the mother ofastrong healthy child, the joy of our home. You certainly have a aplenaid remedy, and I every mother knew of it.— Sincerely yours, Mrs. ANNA Ports, 510 Park Ave., Hot Springs, Ark.” If you feel that there is anything at all unusual or puzzling about your case, or if you wish confidential advice of the most experienced, write to Mrs. Pink- ham, Lynn, Mass., and you will be advised free of charge. Lydia E. has cured and 1s curing thousands of cases of female troubles—curing them inexpensively and absolutely. Remember this when you go to your druggist. Insist upon getting Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Gompound. PATENTS. — List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. William Box, Yankton, S. D., door fastener; Frank Crolius, Minneapolis, Minn., hernial truss; Robert Hiler, St. Paul, Minn., rule case; Eugene Mc- Phee, Lead, S. D., two-wheeled vehi- cle; Joseph Miller, Duluth, Minn., horse collar; Herman Patry and L. S. Hanson, Cloquet, Minn., watch case; Leonard Paulee, Minneapolis, Minn., corner clamp for showcases. Lothrop & Johnson, patent lawyers, 911 and 912 Pioneer Press Bldg., St. Paul. There is considerable difference be- tween thinking a lot of yourself and thinking of yourself a lot. Justice is the corner stone of govern. ment. CTRADE |, “AND-. [ MARK F ceive A | You never tire of bread made BA with Yeast Foam. It tastes {@ \ fresh and good at every fam meal. It’s wholesomeand nourishing—the true Staff | of Life | health and good digestion. Yeast Foam is made of the finest malt, hops, corn and other healthful ingredients. It never grows stale, and may be kept on hand all the time. The secretis in the yeast, Yeast Foam is sold by all gro- * cers at 5c a package—enough for 40 loaves. “How to /@ Make Bread”—free. NORTHWESTERN YEAST CO., CHICAGO. BEGGS’ BLOOD PURIFIER: CURES catarrh of the stomach, | ! ments. Delivery of all Gles @rbolisalve Instantly stops the pain of Burns and Scalds. Always heals without scars, 2% and 60c by druggists, or mailed on rpceipt of price by J.W. Cole & Oo., Black River Falls, Wis umummmmees KEEP A BOX HANDY FREE to WOMEN A Large Trial Box and book of ine structions absolutely Free and Posts paid, enough to prove the value of Paxtine Toilet Antiseptic Paxtine is in powder form to dissolve in water — non-poisonous and far superior to liquid antiseptics cogtaining alcohol which irritates inflamed surfaces, and have no cleansing prop- ertics, The contents of every box makes more Antiseptic Solu- tion —lasts longer — goes further—has more uses in the family and doesmoregoodthanany antiseptic preparation you can buy. * The formula of a noted Boston physician, and used with great success as a Vaginal Wash, for Leucorrheea, Pelvic Catarrh, Nasal Catarrh, Sore Throat, Sore Eyes, Cuts, and all soreness of mucus membrane. * In local treatment of female ills Paxtine is invaluable. Used as a Vaginal Wash we suatienes the world to produce its equal for thoroughness. Itisarevelation in cleansing and healing power; 1t kills all germs which cause inflammation and discharges. } All leading druggists keep Paxtine; price,50c. box; if yours does not, send to usfor it. Don’t take a substitute — thereisnothing like Paxtine, } Write forthe Free Box of Paxtine to-day. B. PAXTON CO., 5 Pope Bldg., Boston, Mas 10 ACRES FOR $30 Only $4 down and $4 per month; no interest. Any quantity at $3 per acre. 10, 100 and 1,000 acre tracts; 150,000 acres. The great Sabinal land grant on Nuevitas harbor, finest in the world; land guaranteed level; hard wood timber, The landing place of Christopher Columbus. Send for illustrated prospectus, CARLSON INVE iN STMENT CO. 816 Nat'l Life Bidg. ENT HiGAGO. PORTRAIT AGENTS #322332" the best. Prices the lowest. Promptship- Send for catalogue and agente’ price list Adiscer agents’ price list. ress KEOLL & 00., New Era Bldg. Tee Blasted Encd co Boreas. D. and