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LD aaad THE —_ Captain’s Double By LILLIAS CAMPBELL DAVIDSON CHAPTER XxXIl. Misunderstandings. It was from the night of the ball that the little cloud like a man’s hand dated its rise above the horizon. There was no quarrel—none of those hasty words on either side that so many lovers’ quarrels are full of. There was no open break in their relations with each other, no recriminations of Only next day, when a vulgar sort. Winstanley went to Nutwood, he was told that Miss Hamilton was out, but Mrs. Shuttlewaite at home. He went in and spent the better part of an hour in conversation with that excel- lent lady, one eye on the drawing room door and one ear eagerly listening for the sound of a step he would have been able to pick out from all others in the world. But neither did that p sound nor did the opening door ose anything more welcome than footman with the tea. He had to to go at last, unsatisfied even by Shuttlewaite’s assurance that U a must be in soon—it was the she always wrote to\a friend in 1, and her letter took a long time ite He lingered again in the , though he had an appointment in Porthmouth that he must keep. He was almost sure he saw the hem of a snish round the upper staircase, yet is was impossible that Ursula could know he was in the house and let him go without a word. Then they met. That was almost more unsatisfactory still. It was at a dinner where where he didn’t take her in. There was a polite manner in her greeting of him that made him want to use forcible language; she spoke if he were a casual acquaintance. tried to throw expostulation, re- proach, into the lingering pressure he gave her hand, but her’s was limp in his touch and faded away without any If it had not been in public he would have demanded to know what she meant by it, albeit he had a kind of miserable consciousness, but, It was out of the question at the momént en dinner was announced. y were far apart at the table. s and flowers he kept d to catch a sight of T 2 1e was deep in talk with the man who had taken her in—a per- ct {diot—odd that she seemed to find skir as response. interesting! For his own part, Winstanley had never been such a dull neighbor to his dinner companions as he proved himself that night. If he could only have the chance of explaining to her! It could all so easily be explained! After din- ner he could surely secure his chance, But after dinner when he sought the raw room with eager foot, she had a gir tting beside her on the little the corner, where he had fond- )t they would be undisturbed. i some common sense. No resolution in his face made r to her, and she respected > tried to get up and move over » other side of the room, an act 1ich he respected her; it was al- most unbelievable that Ursula de- tained her, and the place by her side remained blocked to him. He stood about stroking his mus- tache with a hand that was hardly aware what it did, his feelings were so much having the upper hand. Sure- ly, surely, she would help him to make the opportunity that he had never asked in vain before. Surely she would let that girl go and let him say his say. Not so. She turned to him now and then, and included him in the triangular conversation—at which Winstanley bit his lip. It put him on a remote civil level with the girl she talked to—the mere level of friendly intercourse—and for them, they who stood to each other as they did! So it went on. It seemed absolutely hopeless to try and get speech with her—they were never a minute alone. Sometimes it certainly was by inten- tion on the part of Ursula—she was too sore of heart to let him have his say. When the first despicable flicker of petty jealousy had had time to die down she could listen to him, to the explanation that she well knew she must believe. Just now she was too hurt, too wounded that there should be anything to explain—it was a thing that would not bear talking of till she felt more her calm self again. And then Winstanley, impatient, af- ter the manner of his kind, wrote to her, and in his letter made things per- a trifle worse. He blundered in he way he put it—and a letter is so gerous under such circum- the receiver reads into it that the writer never meant. su answer did not set things ht between them. Then she caught a severe cold wandering round the garden and fretting when the wind was chill. That»put the coping-stone to their troubles, for it ended all chance of their meeting and having the whole matter out. It was a series of unfortunate mistakes from first to Jast, and two people were very unhap- py when there was not the faintest need for it, and a word or two of talk face to face might have set the whole thing right. It is the history of most a tho lovers’ quarrels, repeated » tI DEFECTIVE PAGE sand variations since the world be- gan; but if these two people had known that they were not the first to tread that thorny path of discomfort, and the misery that comes from being wroth with one we love, they would not have seen in that fact how to put the.trouble straight. Colonel Hamilton was well on his way home now, and somehow Ursula trusted to that fact to smooth her path. She felt as if the big, kind dad- dy, who had mended all things for her in life since she took her headless dolls to him, would mend this trouble as he had done all the rest. Captain Winstanley would speak to him, and then he would ask her views and tell Winstanley that she cared for him. If he still wanted her—ah! that wretched little doubt of the girl who has once been jealous—all would be put right then. She thought it all over again and again as she sat by the fire in her dressing room, being fed up with milk and beef tea and dosed with all Mrs. Shuttlewaite’s favorite remedies. She had plenty of time to think and won- der; the days seemed longer than the dawning spring warranted. As for Winstanley, he, too, looked out anxiously for the arrival of the P. and O. that carried the man who was to settle the fate of his hopes. He was faintly aware that it had been his unfortunate position with regard to Countess Ilka that was at the bottom of the trouble between himself and his sweetheart, but he could not believe for a moment that he could really credit him with preferring any one to herself. The woman who was the one in all the world to him—it was ridicu- lous to even fancy that any other wo- man on earth could find a thought in his heart for her. Ursula must have some deeper reason for her unkind- ness to him than those unfortunate missed dances—there was something behind all this, and he tormented him- self with speculation as to what it was. As for Countess Ilka, he saw nothing of her, and, to tell the truth, he was better pleased that it was so. There would have been considerable awk- wardness in a meeting after their parting at the ball. There was an- other dance impending — one at Ad- miralty house this time. He looked to that to settle matters with Ursula, and haunted the old admiral through the club and down the streets of Southsea to find out from him whether Miss Hamilton’s cold was well enough to let her venture to Admiralty House. The old gentleman thought it might be—was not sure—fancied his wife would think it a risk after being shut up in ker room so Jong. Bad things, dances, for increasing a cold when one had it hanging about one, and there was a beastly lot of influenza in the air. Why, that last ball the girl had gone to—a Town Hall business, wasn’t it?—Mrs. Shuttlewaite said she cer- tainly must have caught her present cold there, for she had been moping and miserable ever since. It was, perhaps, brutal of Winstan- ley to feel his heart give a sudden leap at the words. She had moped and been miserable ever since that night? Then he was not the only one who had felt the estrangement a hard thing to bear. The thought comforted him. If she minded too she cared still, in spite of her mysteriously altered conduct toward him. He went straight to the club and wrote a letter which cost him much pains and thought. It was to beg her to be at the ball, if she were in the least able, though he implored her not to run any risk to her health, even if'it made him find the evening blank without her there. He humbly begged for the second dance, and as many more as she would give him—the more she could spare him the happier the evening would be to him. “An I know how little I must seem to deserve them after the other night,” he wrote. “I never was so un- lucky in all my life, and if you will give me these dances I hope you will let me take one for explaining to you how it happened that I must have seemed so neglectful of my greatest happiness. You must know that I would rather have danced with you than with any other girl on earth. Nothing but sheer ill-luck could have put me in the position of seeming in- different to * my greatest blessings. Will you let me feel I can count on a happier evening at» Admiralty House than I was able to spend at the Town Hall?” As Ursula read the letter her heart melted from its attitude of digni- fied resentment and hurt feeling. Per- haps she only wanted an excuse to take a more congenial attitude, and to forgive. She scribbled a little note and sent it off in haste. “I will keep the dances you ask for. You know [ like you to have them.” That was all. What more could be said to a lover whose lips were sealed by her own de- sire till her father janded in England? But it would be enough, surely—he must understand that she accepted the olive branch. And that very night the train from London—the last slow train that crawled into Portsmouth after early people were all in bed and asleep— brought with two passengers in a third-class carriage, whom their fel- low passengers might have taken an interest in if betas been so eign-looking man, with a venerable gray beard. His landlady, in the low- er streets of Mile End, was used to catching glimpses of him without that beard as he crept in and out of his rooms; but it was good manners in those parts not to remark upon these | changes of appearance, or to notice them, when one’s own turn to assume a different appearance might come next. The Portsmouth police were nasty sharp fellows, and never gave a poor fellow a chance when he got into a bit of trouble that most likely wasn’t his own fault, after all. As for the other, he was swathed to thick in coats and mufflers, though the night was mild enough, that one could not have said what he was alike. He seemed uneasy and sulky, and to regard his companion with a settled animosity that suggested a desire on his part to cut the companionship short. Once, indeed, when the train stopped at one of the many places of call between Guildford and Fratton, he rose suddenly to his feet and dashed at the door, as if he would have hurled himself out of the carriage into the dark night outside. The elderly man did not stir or intercept him with a movement; he only said a word or two under his breath, without rising from his seat. The younger man turned upon him with an oath, but sank back. again helplessly into the seat he had just quitted, with a fero- cious scowl. His rage did not seem to affect the other beyond the point of amusement. The corner of his heard above his mouth curled with a cyn- ical smile, and he lit another pipe. They got out of the carriage at Portsmouth Town station, and went off together through the dim night. They reached the rooms where the elder man lodged in squalid discom- fort, and he opened the door with a latchkey and put the other in at the door with a_ polite but determined hand. The younger once more turned and swore at him below his breath; but again, as in the train, he obeyed the quiet, resistless will that was stronger than his own a hundred times. He stumbled up the. dark stairs and into the room the élder man motioned to him. It was a miserable little bed room, with a tray of meager food and drink on the bare table. He threw himself down morosely upon the bed, and the elder man stole from the room. He listened on the dark land- ing and heard the sudden rush to the door as his steps died away. There was a dash against the dirty panels, a violent shaking of the handle, to which he stood listening with a pleasant smile. But the bolts he had shot noise- lessly held fast. “I thought they would stand even his fist, and it’s a strong one,” he re marked to himself, as he took his way down the stair. “These savages are like wild beasts when one traps them; but like the wild beast, again, they can be tamed.” (To Be Continued.) ri Cigar Sizes arid Colors, Few cigar smokers are aware that all cigars are named according to their color and shape. A dead black cigar, for instance, is an “Oscuro,” a very dark brown one is a “Colorado,” a medium brown is a “Colorado Claro” and a yellowish light brown os a “Claro.” Most smokers know the names of the shades from “Claro” to “Colo- rado,” and that is as far as most of them need to know. As to the shapes, a “Napoleon” is the biggest of all ci- gars—it is seven inches long; a “Per- fecto” swells in the middle and tapers down to a very small head at the lighting end; a “Panatela” is a thin, straight up and down cigar without the graceful curve of the “Perfecto;” a “Conchas” is very short and fat, and a “Londres” is shaped like a “Perfec- to” except that it does not taper to so small a head at the lighting end. A “Reina Victoria” is a “Londres” that comes packed in a ribbon-tied bundle of fifty pieces, instead of in the usual four layers of thirteen, twelve, thir- teen and twelve.—Tobacco Journal. Public “Fraid Hole.” * The approach of the tornado season, coupled with the fact that several se- vere storms have visited Oklahoma lately, has resulted in a movement to build a public “’fraid hole” at Ridge- wood. All hands turned in to help in the excavating, and a subscription pa- per was passed around to get money enough to buy the material for its completion. It is to be ten feet wide by twenty long, and it is proposed to fit it up with electric light and fan ventilators. In Southwestern Okla- homa, especially, the memory of the Snyder disaster last year ts still fresh, and at every threatening looking cloud the people take to their storm cellars.—Kansas City Journal. CORRES Gate SRE i Horse Sense. Gyer—That horse of mine is both deaf and blind, but he’s terribly afraid of automobiles. Myer—Why, how’s that? Gyer—His sense of smell is just as good as it ever was. . Choice of Evils. Smiley—“I hope you won’t mind if I bring a friend home to dinner to- night, dear?” Mrs. Smiley—‘Oh, no; that is bet- ter than being brought home by’a friend after dinner.” Her Way. “What's the reason you never put things in their places?” asked the irate and methodical husband. “Why, because,” replied his easy- going wife, “I want them where I can find them.” : Good for Bites. x Weeks—What is good for a mos- i i DING AN IDEAL AMERICAN HORSE. } Attributes of Style, Uncle Sam Hopes to Produce One That Will Combine Action and Beauty. When President Roosevelt visited Colorado a few months ago he called attention to the importance of the government horse breeding station re- cently established at Fort Collins. At this experiment station, under the Colorado state agricultural col- the charge of Dean W. L. Carlyle of the Colorado state agricultural college at Fort Collins, the government hopes to develop the ideal American carriage horse. The great stallion, Carmon, formerly Thomas W. Lawson’s Glori- ous Thundercloud, has been selected as the head of the stud. This great horse, after the mature deliberation of a committee of experts, was se- lected as being the nearest to the ideal type of horse which it is pro? posed to develop. There are nineteen mares, all of high breeding and se- lected with the same care that marked the selection of Carmon, and it is hoped, by proper care and selection, to develop a style of horse that will be typically American, and that it will have all the attributes of action, style in rest, endurance, lung capacity and power. The horse breeding experiment sta- tion has been established only about a year and a half. There are thirteen colts running about the great pasture, and these sbew all the markings and characteristics of the highest bred type of horseflesh. It is not expected to develop the ideal American horse at once, however. If a satisfactory type is developed in twenty years, or in the course of a generation, the sci- entists who are making this important experiment in evolution will be more than satisfied. It is realized that the work must be slow, and that years must elapse before success can crown the work. Everything depends oa the start, however, and it is gratifying to learn that the leading horsemen of the country commend the beginning that has been made by the govern- ment, and have every faith in the type of horse to be developed from mares that now form the nucleus of the government stud. Not,a move has been made in this important work without the most ma- ture deliberation. A. D, Melvin, chief of the bureau of animal industry at Washington, has been in touch with the work from the outset, the expe- riment being directly under his de- partment. Prof. Carlyle, who is in active charge of the work, is one of the recognized horse experts of the world. Before coming to ‘Colorado, BONNY IOWA, One of the mares at the government horse breeding station. Carmon and the’ great show mares that make up the government stud. Even the selection of Fort Collins as the site of the experiment was the result of careful calculation of ex- perts. Scientists have found that the plains of Colorado, stretching east from the Rocky mountains, formed the natural home of the horse in this jeountry. The late W. C. Whitney equipped an expedition to find traces of the first horse in this country ,and the bones of the celebrated three-toed, pigmy horse were unearthed near Jules- burg, Colo., showing that the plains saw the earliest development of man’s CARMON, GREAT STALLION AT Mr. Tichenor of Chicago .the latter be- ing a famous horse owner and expert. Carmon is regarded as the nearest approach to the ideal horse. He has style and beauty in every move, and nis action is superb. In every way he is regarded as a fitting horse from which to develop a flawless progeny. The mares, in the government pas- ture are without pedigrees, but all are great show mares. Some of the better known among them are Martha Wash- ington, a chestnut; Kentucky Belle, Miss Virginia, Wisconsin Queen, and Bonny Iowa. DANGER IN A COLD BATH. Physician Gives Hints of Value to the Layman. In a suggestive article on bathing, a doctor gives some hints which should never be forgotten and which are of interest to those who have long known them as well as to those who have not. Here are a few excerpts: Should one feel chilled after a cold bath and the following hard rub, that HEAD OF GOVERNMENT STUD, and his groomsman, James Hutton. best friend. Not only does the dry, crisp air, at the Colorado altitudes. give horses great lung capacity ‘and power, but the absence of moistness tends to make a more solid bone for- mation. The cow ponies of the West- ern range are the hardiest horses of their size in the world. Their great lung capacity and their solid bones combine to make them ideal for en- durance. These facts decided the government experts to select Colorado as the breed- ing ground of the American horse, and the hardy condition of the animals, at Fort Collins would indicate that the choice was a wise one. Prof. Carlyle was associated with te University of Wisconsin, where he established a reputation as a horse ex- pert. Prof. Carlyle is now in Europe, where he will remain several months, information that can be applied to studying types of horses and gleaming information that can be applied to the work at Fort Collins. He has the as- sistance of Prof. Walter H. Olin, pro- fessor of agronamy at Fort Collins, and of James Hutton, the groomsman in charge of the government stud. Mr. Hutton was secured from the Univer- sity of Wisconsin, and he is regarded as one of the few men in the country capable of assuming active charge of The government stable is part of the | Colorado state agricultural college, which, under the direction of Prof. L. G. Carpenter, has become one of the} most successful institutions of its kind. Like all the buildings at this remark- able institution, the stable is large and commodious. There is an exercising track in front, where Carmon and the rest of the government horses are put ! through their paces by Mr. Hutton. The selection of Carmon was the re- sult of a careful search by a commit- person must realize that cold baths are bad. There is really no way I can suggest that a person can tell whether or not cold baths are good for him, except by the glow and bodily warmth that should follow. I think if the finger nails look blue and the body is covered | with gooseflesh after the bath that it is too strenuous, says the physician. As to the method of taking baths, I believe that a needle, shower or bath sponge is best, for few are strong enough to stand a plunge, and as to sitting or lying in a tub of cold water, I would say unhesitatingly that it is unwise, for it takes too much animal heat and results in a loss of energy that is unnecessary. Frequently those, who are not strong enough to take a cold water bath as it comes from the spigot will find it immensely beneficial when a bag of salt is placed in the tub; or by taking the chill off with the addition of warm water, the bath will still be practically cold, for the tem- perature wiil be much cooler than the body, Cold baths should, as a rule, be taken only in the morning directly af- ter rising, unless a person is very warm and wants a cold tub on a hot day or in a few cases of extreme fa- tigue. When very warm I would sug- gest that the individual wait until the perspiration is entirely dried on the body\ before getting into the water. For the shock to the nerves and the rapidity with which the blood is drawn to the surface of the skin by the cold is not good. This same rule applies to salt water bathing. And many per- sons who jump into the surf when very warm and covered with perspiration often wonder why they feel nauseated after they have been in a few minutes. One of the most refreshing baths I haye ever taken is a combination of the cupful of cider vinegar and cold water. If it is not too cold I would suggest lying in it from five to ten minutes when particularly fatigued, for the reaction is remarkable. There is this to be guarded against in cold water bathing, that it is not to be done unless the person is physically fit, never when the thought of the cold on the body brings a shiver or if one feels weak. At such times a bath in tepid water will be far better and will have no bad results, as the cold one tee consisting of Prof. George M. Rom- mel of the bureau of animal industry at Washington, Prof. C. F. Curtis of Iowa ,Prof. Carlyle of Colorado and might. SSE ad CAR a MS Pain is a small price to pay for the joy of sacrifice,