Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, December 17, 1904, Page 2

’ cried the man who had zed the Weasel; “this is re enough. There was him and Tripp and Savage—Savage was a E r ereature, though, and ’alf silly after he w ogn poor s flogged. But Humph and Dick they v n pair. Fancy seeing old Dicked ain!” “Now, then,” cried the officer, sharp- 10 more gabble. We've got some to do unless I’m very much mis- on, and the time’s running against But keep your eyes on that fel- 1e of you. Capt..Marslow will eased to see him ain.” this time the Weasel spoke not but sat with his head sunk t, as if unconscious of ng around him. But lly, almost perceptibly, he man- urn himself until his back the gunwale. on his brez was pé “Look out for that little toad!” > 1 Owen, as the boat shot away to larkness. “He'll give you the f it’s to be done.” CHAPTER XXV. with Owen and Pursley, vy hurried along the cliff path over Wedge Hill and to the foot of the e they made a diversion to for the track across the Cap sea front and they might from the beach. Phil had ypeared, and the curate had little t he was hiding in some of had Leife, from which y emerged. an he had arranged with Pos- e was simple enough in con- but in execution it asked no srve and resolution. His chief was the uncertainty in his id as to Ruffidge’s fate and yr. In any ease he had no ex- n of finding him at the cot- s. His idea was that at the Bilge might surprise some of the gang, any rate discover their disposi- they nels seption chara pectati ns yproaching the cottages from the approached with great cau- was still. Just as they came the path in front of the gar- were astonished to see the Anchor Cottage open and a out, tlose the door behind i ance toward them. They too, that while the parlor win- the Bilge was dark, that of Cottage was lit up. n came nearer, the curate young Martin Butler. to his companions to fol- xim. Mr. Leife quickly turned and walked down the Chidley road. Be- ey had gone a hundred yards eard the steps of the black- t pprentice close behind them. rhe curate slackened his pace, and Butter overtook them. “Good evening Mr. Leife,” he said, politely touching his cap, and then stood staring open-mouthed at the cu- rance, hatless, sodden rain and salt water, and covered mud. hey s the n en, Martin,” said Mr. Leife. ave on the track of the blackest fians that have ever nested at You know Weasel John, as cried Martin, fiercely, He’s been frighte t the vicarage. alk with him, and I’ve got of my own to pay off, said the curate, “if you come u may have your chance, > may be some hard knocks, “Wei ith us j afraid of them,” answered ow, stoutly, “but I’ve not el with me.” one,” said Mr. Leife, pro- 2 the bludgeon with which Ruf- fidze had supplied him. “You have just come from Anchor Cottage, I see. Who is there?” “Mr. Ruffidge,” answered the lad, th some surprise. tuffidge,” echoed the curate, with uch more. “And what were you do- h him?” wi “Why, that Weasel John took a note up to the vicarage this evening for Dr. Champion, who was out. So Miss i nt Jenny with it to the vitar at -. Catell’s, and I went with her. The viear asked me to come down here and tell Mr. Ruffidge that he’d ask you te go to Cliffe as early as possible to- morrow morning.” The curate stopped for a moment to sonsider. Then he said to the three: “[ will”go in and have a word with Ruffidge. You walk quietly up to that tall elm yonder’—he pointed to one that stood out black against the sky some little distance off—‘“then turn and come straight in after me. And mind,” added the curate, as an after- “get your sticks or whatever > ready, for we’ve seen strange already to-night.” sir,” eried Owen, “we'll keep open. I’ve got something bet- ter than a stick here,” he continued, in a lower voice, “thanks to the little vermin.” “One thing more, Owen,” said the curate; “if anything happens to me in there, do you think you could give that whistle of mine—the signal, you know?” “Something like it I think J could | Im going | B. PAUL NEUMAN. | mastering his voice; ens manage,” answered Owen, confidently. Mr. Leife walked swiftly to the path in front of the cottages. The light gtill shone in the window, of Anchor Cottage, and without the slightest pause he walked up the garden path and knocked at the door. The famil- iar voice of Ruffidge called “Come in,” and in he went. . The little room looked neat and cosy as ever. A small fire was burning in the grate, and a kettle.steaming as if in preparation for a dfsh of tea. At the table sat Ruffidge, with a great book open in front of him. ‘The curate recognized it instantly—it was a Bi- ble, a gift from Dr. Champion the Christmas before. On the table by the side of the book lay a sheet of pa- per, on which the big, red-haired man appeared to be laboriously tracing his complicated hieroglyphics. As their eyes met Ruffidge sprang to his feet with a half-smothered ejaculation, on his face an expression of intense surprise. Indeed,,for some seconds he continued staring open- mouthed, as though he were looking upon some ghastly and horrible sight. Then, recovering himself, he said: “Thank heaven! Mr. Leife, I had— well—I had—had almost—quite—given you up.” His voice sounded broken, as by some strong emotion, and his eyes glistened. “Is this all a piece of acting?” the curate asked himself. Then aloud, “It is no thanks to you, Ruffidge, but only to the mercy of God that I am here.” “Amen,” said Ruffidge, solemnly. “It seemed as if it was all over with both of us. As it is—’ Here he suddenly broke down, let his head fall on his outstretched arm, while a dreadful cry broke from his lips. “Both my nev- vies—you saw them—both gone!” In spite of his suspicions, the curate was touched, and a hundred little in- cidents of the past months crowded into hi; memory again, and began to accuse his want of faith. “Ruffidge,” he began, and his voice ‘had a kinder note in it, “I don’t want to be unjust to you, but I can’t under- stand ‘how you and your nephews left me as you did.” “Why, sir, it’s plain enough. 1 thought the boat was pulling heavy, put it never struck me it was leaking till we were in that channel. Then, you remember, we saw the light above us, and, thinks I, ’twa#%my doing that we came here at all, and it’s I that must find a way out. So up I went first and found an opening at the top. I looked back and see Daye a-standing up. I thought—well—I thought there was time—time for all—so I sung out for the boys to come, though I see now I should have—well—have made them stand on one side for you. And yet— well”—here his voice trembled again —‘if I am wrong I’m—I’m punished, for you am safe and sound, and they His head dropped again, and the sentence remained unfinished. “I, too, am grieved at your loss,” said the curate, moving round to where Ruffidge sat and Jaying his hand on the bowed shoulder, “but why did | you make no effort to save me?” “We had—well—had no chance to, sir,” said Ruffidge, lifting his head and the boys, let alone me, would have given their lives for your willing—they was English sailors, sir.” There was a certain quiet dignity about the way these simple words were spoken that almost awed the questioner, but he forced himself to one more inquiry. “How do you mean, you had no chance?” “Why, sir, before I had taken half a dozen steps the light went out and my legs were—well—knocked from under me—I shall go limping for many a day, I doubt. Then I was hit on the head and—well—sent to sleep, as you may say, but just before I got the clout I heard—heard Sam give a cry as though he was being choked. I feel as if—well—as if I should hear it— hear it forever.” “You must have had as wonderful an escape as I, had,” said Mr. Leife. “Do you say your leg is injured?” “Look here, sir,”~and, rising up, he lifted his right leg on to the table, drawing back the trouser cloth to the knee. Half way around the shin bone, and running round to the calf, was a jag- ged wound with a broad edge of bruis- ed and livid flesh round it. It was an ugly place, but the curate hardly saw it. His eyes were fixed on the woolen socks which Ruffidge wore, socks quite remarkable enough to attract atten- tion. They were bright yellow, cir- cled with broad black stripes. Just at this moment the door open- ed and in came Pursley and Owen, followed by Martin Butter. CHAPTER XXVI. If Ruffidge had shown astonish- ment at the appearance of Mr. Leife, it was with something very like con- sternation that he viewed this new in- vasion. He pulled his leg from the ta- ple, stood upright with the trouser still rolled up ,and stared at the three newcomers. ? Before he could utter a word Purs- ley shouted: “Tripp, by all that’s wonderful!” “Yes,” criew Owen, with a shout; : “look at his socks;” and as he spoke he plunged his hand into his pocket. Brief as had been the interval, Ruf. fidge had already recovered himself, Before Owen had drawn his pistol the tenant. of the cottage had pulled one from his breast and cocked it. “I’m a quiet and peaceable man, sir,” he said, looking towards the eu- rate, “but I’m not one that likes to be bullied. Who talks of Tripp? I once —well—I used to know a man of that name—years ago, it was.” “Had he lost the top of his left hand thumb?” cried Owen. “If you're not Tripp, hold out your left hand.” “Certainly,” answered Ruffidge, and, deliberately replacing the pistol, he stretched out his left arm towards Owen. Then, with a movement almost inconceivably swift, he picked up with his right hand the heavy candlestick, flung it in Owen’s face, and at the same moment struck Owen fair and square between the eyes, knocking him on his back like a ninepin. The room was immediately plunged into absolute darkness, but the curate heard a loud click. “Martin,” he cried, “you stand by the door and don’t let any one out. Purs- ley, come here to me.” As he spoke he pushed away the table and rushed across the room. He stretched out his hand to feel for the cupboard, against which Ruffidge had been standing. Cupboard and wall seemed to have disappeared. Instead he caught a momentary glimpse of something that looked like a window blind in another room. At the same time he missed his footing and slipped down. Then, as he lurched forward, his arm was seized in a vice-like grip, and he felt himself dragged into some black abyss. He came heavily to the ground on what felt like stone flags, and a rush of feet told him at once that, though dark, the place was not deserted. He had evidently fallen into the very trap described by Phil. As he struggled to his feet he heard the click again above him, and guess- ed that the door had been shut to. Then a light flashed upon him, and he saw that he was surrounded by what, in the semi-darkness, certainly looked a very murderous crew. A voice that sounded strangely fa- miliar cried: “That blessed curick thought we'd settled him. we'll make sure, anyway.” Mr. Leife glanced quickly in the di- rection of the voice, and recognized the “nevvy” whom Ruffidge had intro- duced as “Dave;” a truculent ruffian he no wappeared, and in his hand was a pistol leveled at the curate’s head. But just as Mr. Leife was awaiting the fatal shot “Not yet, my lad,” said a voice, quiet and cool and yet alive with the power and restraint of a born commander of men; you'll do what you are told and nothing else, or you'll take my place and bring all safe out of this little mess.” “No, no,” cried half a dozen voices, all speaking eagerly. “Old Tripp is the man for us. Say the word, Humph; we take our orders from again. I This time “I'm not saying anything against him, am I?” ed Dave, sulkily; “I didn’t know he was so mighty fond of his curick.” “No, of course you didn}, my boy,” said Tripp; “and perhaps you're not so far out, after all. But there’s such a thing as sailing too fast, and about this same gentleman I’ve a notion that he may be more useful to us if we keep him alive a bit longer. I'll tell you what, Dave; you take him in tow with you, and if he don’t do what he's told—why, just put his shutters up and have done with it.” “Right you are,” said Dave, evident- ly gratified by the commission, and, seizing the curate, he drew him apart. Mr. Leife offered uo resistence, part- ly because he was still a littfe dazed by his fall, but partly because Tripp, as he finished his speech, had pushed himself forward into the circle of light, disclosing, in spite of the change in his manner of speech, the unmistak- able features of the virtuous Ruffidge. (To Be Continued.) TRAINING SOLDIERS. Atascadero Encamoment Profitable to State Troops. The recent encampment at Atasca- dero, from a professional point of view, was a complete success in every way. The matter ig of national im- portance, and the more that people know about it the more value it is bound to be, for the merit of the work will recommend itself to anybody fa- miliar with it. The practical value of such a training arises from the fact that it consists entirely of work which requires a large number of men and a great scope of country, and therefore cannot be undertaken at any ordinary army post, or in the vicinity of any of the armories of the national guard of California. The exercises and maneu- vers were framed so as to represent actual conditions in the field, and the execution was so carried out and real- istic that we had actual’ campaigning in evéry way except the tragedy or the killing of men on the field. The hope of the army officers is that the experi- ence has been so profitable to the state troops that they will respond to the next call for such an encampment with increased enthusiasm and in mul- tiplied numbers.—Sunset Magazine. A Ringer. “How can you ring a bell without moving it?” “Give it up.” “First take a bell.” “Yes.” “Paint it.” “Yes.” “Leave it in the sun.” “Yes.” “And wait until & peels.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer. |night George Grossmith Jr., told of a IN A DEEP-SEA AQUARIUN. Strange and Beautiful Forms and Col- ors to Be Seen. You look up through the green wat- sr as if you were a fish yourse'f and know for the first time how it feels to be at the bottom of the sea, says a writer in Everywhere: Great, solemn, aldermanic-looking cod swim up and stare into your very eyes; enormous songer eels writhe playfully around your head; idiotic-looking dog-fish lie piled on one another and blink placid- ly into your face like so many sheep; while the skates and the string rays are flattened out in panting flaccidity upon the gravel at the bottom. Little silver herrings and golden-hued young salmon drift about like clouds lit by the moon and on all sides, against the rocks that vary the surface of the tanks, wave the exquisite fringes of the sea anemones. Here, above all, is the supreme beauty of the water | world. Every variety of fringe and flower- cup is mimicked here in hues that fairly rival the roses of the garden. Purest white, soft creamy yellow, rich salmon color, every shade of tender rose and glowing red and royal pur- ple and vivid green spring from these rocks a living flower, with petals as delicate as they are deadly. For these beautiful fringes and ethereal-looking bubbles of color are so many murder- ous arms outstretched for food. As we watch them swaying gently in the current, a poor little transparent shrimp comes paddling swiftly by. He touches a rose-colored petal, it flashes around him, he is sucked into the gor- geous heart of the flower and it closes contentedly over his vanished form. They know their danger generally, these poor little creatures, and did they touch ever so lightly the top of a floating fringe, would spring away from it with an electrical recoil. An Election Night Episode. The man with the piece of chalk was busily putting down figures which he laboriously read from the “flimsies” handed him by the messenger boy. The crowd was cheering or groan- ing, according to the color of the re- turns and the temper of the composite human units. After the messenger had handed in the flimsies he started to go away. First he turned to the door at his left, but a bulky man filled it. Then he dodged to the right and attempted to duck under the support | of the huge blackboard. But the man with the chalk was too quick. With pale face and startled eyes he leaped at the urchin and seized him by the arm. As he was led from back of the blackboard the boy writhed in pain and said: “Watchy doin’, mister? I ain’t done nothin’.” “Don nothin’, indeed!” cried the man, trembling with wrath. “Wasn’t you trying to go behind the returns?” And the reckless and crestfallen lad did well to escape with his life-——Bal- timore American. Master of Dreams. “Behold, this dreamer cometh.” They stripped me bare and left me by the way To pine forsaken in a lonely land; They gave me to night-frosts and burn- ing day. To griefs none understand. They took my silver from me and my gold, The changing splendors of my rich ar- Tay; Night's silver rain of dew escaped’ their hold, And the fine gold of day. On the world’s highway in vain pomp they tread; By paths unknown I stray and hidden reams; all else and left me there for ead; They could not take my dreams. Still, morning comes with marvel as of stil” in soft rose descends the even- sul fayette’ cant Ge my heart, grown The sweet swift thoughts abide. Pass bse CF ae by, O clamorous folk and “last fortress of the soul I Men me winter weather -from a But God has given me spring. —Robin Flower in Spectator. Raised $100 (S. M.) a Night. In the Victoria hotel cafe the other super who went to the manager of a successful play after it had been hay- ig a long London run and demanded a raise of salary. “Sir,” he said, “I have been playing my part for one hundred consecutive nights with the utmost zeal and care. Don’t you think I should have a raise” “What part do you play?” asked the manager. “I am in the third act, sir,” replied the actor, apparently astonished at the question. “I have to stake twenty pounds in the gambling scene.” “Your claim is just,” replied the) manager. “Beginning tonight you may stake forty pounds.”—New York Press. Entertain Mexican. Vice’ President Ramon Corral of Mexico was the recipient of much social attention during his stay in San Francisco, where he stopped several days on his way home from the St. Louis fair. Senor Corral and his fam- ily saw many places of interest in and about the city and appeared at a num- ber of social functions, including a luncheon given by Admiral and Mrs. McCalla at the Mare Island navy yard. Beet Sugar in Colorado. The growth of the beet sugar indus- try in Colorado is constantly creating a demand for new factories. Colo., is to have a new beet sugar fac- try which will employ 300 men at jeast five months in the year. The piant will handle the crops of the east- Lamar, |" ern part of the Arkansas valley and} will be ready for the 1905 campaign. THE OLD FOLKS AT HOME Are Never Without Pe- Catarrhal INO. OATAINSON, Independence, Mos Remarkable Cures Effected By Pe-ru-na. Under date of January 10, 1897, Dr. Hartman received the following let- ter: “My wife has been a sufferer from a complication of diseases for the past twenty-five years. Her case has baf- fled the skill of some of the most noted physicians. One of her worst troubles was chronic constipation of several years’ standing. She was also passing through that most critical period in the life of a woman—change of life. “In June, 1895, I wrote to you about her case. You advised a course of Peruna and Manalin, which we at once commenced, and have to say it completely cured her. “About the same time I wrote you about my own case of catarrh, which had been of twenty-five years’ stand- ing. At times I was almost past going. I commenced to use Peruna according to your instructions and continued its use for about a year, and it has com- pletely cured me. Your remedies do all that you claim for them, and even more.’’—John O. Atkinson. In a letter dated January 1, 1900, Mr. Atkinson says, after five years’ experience with Peruna: «] will ever continue to speak a good word for Peruna. I am still cured of catarrh."’—John O. Atkinson, Inde- pendence, Mo., Box 272. ru-na in the Home: for Diseases. . MRend MRS, » SCHWANDT “Sanborny /, Mrs. Alla Schwandt, Sanborn, Minn., writes: «4 have been troubled with rheuma- tism and catarrh fortwenty-five years. Could not slecp day or night. After having used Peruna I can sleep and nothing bothers me aow, Ifleveram affected with any kind of sickness Peruna will be the medicine I shall use. My son was cured of catarrh ot the larynx by Peruna.’’—Mrs. Alla Schwandt. Why Old People are Especially Liable to Systemic Catarrh. When old age comes on, catarrhal diseases comes also. Systemic ca- tarrh is almost universal in old people. This explains why Peruna has be- come so indispensable to old people. Peruna is their safeguard. Peruna is the only remedy yet devised that en- . tirely meets these cases. Nothing but an effective systemic remedy can cure them. A reward o* $10,000 has been de- posited in the Market Exchange Bank, Columbus, Ohio, as a guarantee that the above testimonials are genuine; that we hold in our possession authen- tic letters certifying to the same. Dur- ing many years’ advertising we have never used, in part or in whole, a sin- gle spurious testimonial. Every one of our testimonials are genuine and in the words of the one whose name is appended. Ask your Druggist for a free Peruna Almanac for 1905. Exchange of Coins. “You say you got rid of that coun- terfeit quarter I gave you, Sam?” “TI certainly did, boss. “But don’t you know it was wrong to pass it?” “T didn’t ’zactly pass it, boss; you see, I was passin’ ’round de plate in church las’ Sunday, an’ I jist exchang- ed it.”—Yonkers Statesman. FLOCKING INTO CANADA. Immigration From Dakota and Adjoin- -ing States—Maj. Edwards, United States Consul General at Montreal, Describes the Movement as Due to Scarcity of Land. Montreal, Noy. 15.—Major Allison Edwards, United States Consul Gen- eral, who returned to-day from a visit to his home at Fargo, North Dakota, said in an interview: “The proper way to describe the manner in which the People of North Dakota are com- ing over into Western Canada is to say they are coming over in droves. Among the people there did not seem to be any thought of there being a poundary line at all. It is simply a question,” addel the major, “of there not being any more land in North Da- kota and the surrounding States, and the people are flocking to Canada to get good farms. Naturally the number that will come over will in- erease all the time, and I may say the people you are getting are the best people in the West. They are well supplied with money and are well acquainted with the conditions under which they will have to work.” The agents of the Canadian Govern- ment are prepared to give the fullest information regarding homestead and other lands. Sound Advice. Rupert (sighing)—I think of her ev- ery minute. ‘ Harold—tTry thinking of her every second, old chap. Second thoughts are usually the safest.—Puck. Ask Your Druggist for Allen’s Foot-Ease, “I tried ALLEN’S FOOT-EASE recent- ly, and have just bought another supply. It has cured my corns, and the hot, burning and itching sensation in my feet which was almost unbearable, and I would not be with- out it now.—Mrs. W. J. Walker, Camden, ‘N. J.” Sold by all Druggists, 25c. A Chronic Case. “Oh, he’s never satisfied with a job. He’s kicking about the one he’s got now.” “Why, I understood it was a cinch. He told me he had absolutely noth- ing to do.” “Yes, but he’s kicking because he has to do it.”—Philadelphia Press. Important to Mothers. Examine carefully every bottle of CASTORIA, ‘a safe and eure remedy for infants and children, and see that it man, Lop Uieten Signature of For Over 30 Years, — all The Kind You Have Always Sought, It takes a noisy preacher to keep a small boy awake in church. _ He Knew the Sex. When the American woman met the distinguished German professor, he said to her: “You need not sprechen mit me in Deutsch. You sprechen English. I very vell understand your meanness.” TO CURE A COLD IN ONE DAY Take Laxative Bromo Quinine Tablets. All druge gists reruod the money if it falls to cure. E. W. Grove's signature {8 on each box. The woman who doesn’t think some other woman homelier than herself has yet to be born. ° , Giles @rbolisalve Tnetantly stops the pain of Burns and Scalds. Always heals without scars, % and 50c by drugaists, or mailed on receipt of price by J.W. Cole & Co., Black River Falls, Wis quemmnmms KEEP A SOX HANDY The bread of the American housewife made with Yeast Foam leads the world. 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