Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, October 28, 1908, Page 4

‘ PERUNA A TONIC OF GREAT USEFULNESS. TET TEES if AS HON. R. S. THARIN. and counsel for Anti-Trust League, writes from Pennsylvania Ave., N. W., Washington, D. C., as follows: “Having used Peruna for catarrhal disorders, I am able to testify to its reat remedial excellence and do not esitate to give it my emphatic endorse- ment and earnest recommendation to all persons affected by that disorder. It is also a tonic of great usefulness.’ Mr. T. Barnecott, West Aylmer, Ontario, Can., writes: ‘‘Last winter I was ill with pneumonia after having la grippe. I took Peruna for two months, when I became quite well. I also in- duced a young lady, who was all run down and confined to the house, to take Peruna, and after taking Peruna for three months she is able to follow her trade of tailoring. I can recommend Perunzé for all such who are ill and re- quire a tonic.” Pe-ru-na Tablets. Some people prefer to take tablets. rather than to tale medicine in a fluid form. Such people can obtain Peruna tablets which represent the solid_me- dicinal ingredients of Peruna. Each tablet is equivalent to one average dose of Peruna. White Ant Menaces Buildings. The white ant appears to be doing continued damage in the Philippines. Officers who have charge of the con- struction of government buildings there say that it is almost impossible to get rid of this devastating insect. Most woods must be specially treated before they can be placed in the ground as supports for foundations, as nearly everything which is used for this purpose is attacked by white ants and eaten so bad!y as to be wortaless when it is not entirely consumed. The influences of fungus are nothing com pared with the industrious white ant. Putting Him “Nevt.” “J will give you a penny if you'll promise to be good while I’m away, Johnny.” f “What'll you give me if I'll be guod when you get back home?” ca ‘Tl give you something if you are uot good then.” As Usual. First Amateur Fisherman — Now you are living in the suburbs, I sup- pose you go fishing often. Are you eatching much of anything these days? Second Ditto—Oh, yes. Colds and trains. BREAKS A COLD PROMPTLY The following formula is a never failing remedy for colds: One ounce of Compound Syrup of Sarsaparilla, one ounce Toris Com- pound and one-half pint of good whiskey, mix and shake thoroughly each time and use in doses of a table- spoonful every four hours. This if followed up will cure an acute cold in 24 hours. The ingre- dients can be gotten at any drug store. Political. Stella—Did you accept Jack? Belle—Yes, but I indorsed Tom at the same time. PATENTS. List of Patents Issued Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. Reported by Lothrop & Johnson, patent lawyers, 911 Pioneer Press building, St. Paul, Minn.: W. Baker, Aberdeen, S. D., steam valve; A. J. Bluntach, Winona, Minn., self playing instrument; J. M. Eby, Williston, N. D., carpet-stretcher; G. Fink, North. field, Mipn., carrier; P. Holmberg, Parkston, S. D., grappling tongs; J. P. Johnson, Kensal, N. D., Wrench; A. H, Lageson, Mabel, Minn., package tie. The “H” Test. The “h” test for sobriety: Hear, heed and honor the alibi of the hali- but. Hon. R. 8. Tharin, Attorney at Law CHAPTER XiX—(Continued.) Grayton took off his hat and began to run. If he lelt Nevins go out of his sight he might never discover him again. The ground was soft and spongy, so that his footfalls made no sound; while Nevins appeared to be so confident no one was following him that he did not take the trouble to look round. It appeared to be an aimless kind of game on the part of both men. Neither of them knew exactly what he meant to do. As far as Nevins Was concerned, the appearance of the cu- rate on the scene had upset all his plans. Instead of getting away as he expected to do, without difficulty and without suspicion, he would have to maneuver himself and his treasure in- to a place of safety. As he hurried across the wide moor, with the night closing thickly around him and the damp sea fog throwing everything out of perspect- ive and proportion, he tried to formu- late some safe and definite plan of ac- tion. It wag frightfully annoying to have everything upset by a stupid curate. For the life of him he could not understand why Grayton wanted to interfere. It was no concern of his. Marions West wa no relative of his, and had given him no authority to act for her. “Those meddling fools ought to be shot,” he said to himself, angrily. “He'll go and tell Blight, no doubt, and that sagacious arm of the law will make no end of a mouth, of the business. If I’m caught I shall have to prove my authority for what I’ve done, and that will blow up the whole show.” He fell into a slower pace at length, for the way got more and more diffi- cult, and the darkness deepened at al- most every step. Moreover, the prob- lem that faced him remained as per- plexing as ever. Should he hide the box and the bits of jewelry he had pocketed, and re- turn for them at a later’ date, or should he try to make good his escape with the booty in his possession? The latter was no doubt the more heroic course, but it would involve a good many risks. To walk across Penry Downs to the nearest railway station would take him several hours, and by the time he got there Blight might have a warrent ready for his arrest. Clearly, the way of the wrongdoer was beset with difficulty. The telegraph, which he had so often found conveni- ent, might prove a snare. While he was tramping wearily across that trackless moor messages might be humming along the wires to every po- lice station in the district. He cursed the curate again with all his heart and soul. If he could have put a shot through his head while he leaned over the cliff it would have solved the difficulty. Unfortunately he had no pistol in his possession, otherwise he would have been strong- ly tempted to break the sixth com- mandment. The only weapon of of- fense or defense in his possession was a long-bladed pocket knife. The longer he reflected, the more probable it seemed to him that he would get caught. ‘That being so, the wise thing would be to hide the valu- ables. Nothing could be proved against him. Nobody saw him break open the door. Nearly all the boxes that had been washed ashore had been badly damaged by the waves. He could swear that he had never touched a’ single thing. They could search his rooms, his clothing, his trunks, but there would be nothing to incriminate him—nothing but the curate’s story, and that, without cor- roborative evidence, would amount to nothing. He began to walk more slowly and warily. He would have to be sure of his ground. Penry Downs was wide and trackless, and almost without landmarks: of any kind. He might hide and never be able to find again. That would be a fool's trick, and must be guarded against at all costs. The little box under his arm meant afortunetohim. It was the one stroke of good luck in a luckless life, and now that it was in his possession he would fight for it to the last gasp. lSuch good fortune did not usually come to a man more than once in a lifetime, and if he played the fool or the coward now he might end his days in a workhouse. It was so dark by this time that he could see only a few yards in front of him, and the prospect of finding a convenient hiding place for his treas- ure, or even of finding his way safely across the downs, appeared to be ag- gravatingly remote. He looked care- fully round him for some tree or boul- der that might serve as a convenient landmark, and he cursed the curate in polyglot oaths as he did so. Suddenly he started; a creaking sound fell on his ear, like the spring- ige back of heather when it had it had been crushed under foot. He held his breath, and the sound was repeated. . “Some stray mule or donkey, I ex- pect,” he grunted to himself, and he strained his eyes in the direction of the sound. “There it is again, and closer,” he muttered and the perspiration gath- ered In beads on his forehead. A moment leter the figure of a man “The Shadow Between” ——— BY = SILAS K. HOCKING. was dimly outlined in the darknesh. Instantly the truth flashed across his mind; the curate had followed him. He had not gone to St. Chloe at all, consequently he had not told Blight the policeman. He drew a long breath and waited, and in that moment a dark and sin- ister purpose took possession of him. He was not naturally an evilly-dis- posed man. Under ordinary circum- stances no such thought as now domi- nated his brain would have gained ad- mittance. But the chance of his life was at stake. This man was coming between him and fortune, and he had no right to come. It was no affair of his. He was meddling in a matter that was entirely outside his province. If he chose to interfere in other peo- ple’s affairs he would have to take the consequences. Nevins put his hand into his hip pocket and drew out a long-bladed knife. He had no wish to use it, but he was in a mood that might lead to anything. The shadowy figure stood quite still a few yards away. Nevins was trem- pling in every limb with excitement. For several moments no word was spoken. Grayton held his breath and waited, and i na vague way wondered what the upshot of the adventure would be. He was conscious that he had played his part clumsily. He ought to have taken somebody into his con- fideffce. It was bad generalship to have no line of communication. Un- fortunately, from his point of view, events had happened so rapidly that he had been unable to keep pace with them. He had been called upon to act before he had had time to think. Now he had reached a point beyond which he could not see. “Who are you?” Nevins demanded, suddenly and savagely. = “Why ask?” Grayton answered, quietly. “Do you think I would let you go out of my sight?” “Then you mean to follow me?” “J do.” Nevins took three or four long strides and came close up to his ad- versary. “You are a meddling fool,” he hissed, angrily. “What I do is no concern of yours.” “There you are mistaken,” Grayton replied. “You have in your posses- sion valuable property that does not belong to you. You are a thief, and I shall follow you until I am able to give you into custody.” “You had better think twice,” Nev- ing growled. “I am not in the mood to be thwarted.” “Neither am I,” Grayton replied, “and I think you will find that in any feat of endurance I am your match.” “Then you will not turn back?” “Not unless you give me that box. And I’m not sure I’ll turn back even then.” “You mean to track me down?” “T dot” “Then, by heaven——” But he did not wait to complete the sentence. Swift as a panther he sprang on Grayton. For a moment a knife gleamed close to the curate’s eyes, and he attempted to spring aside; but he was too late. The blow fell with the swiftness of a thunderbolt. There was a stinging, sickening sensation somewhere in the neighborhood of the right shoulder. A sudden jerk, and he was alone. With a groan he fell back and rolled over on the damp heather. For a moment the earth swam; then con- sciousness melted into oblivion. CHAPTER XX. St. Chloe le Excited. The truth leaked out slowly in St. Chloe that two men had not returned to their lodgings the previous night; | put, since their respective land ladies did not appear to attach much impor- tance to the circumstances, no par- ticular interest was a stranger and foreigner, a man who made no friends and awoke no affection, and if he were never heard of again a0 one would trouble very much. Grayton everybody loved. But, since he was at everybody’s beck and eall, and always ready to watch through the night by the sick or dy- ing, no alarm was felt at his non-ap- pearance at bedtime. “He'll turn up sometime,” Mrs. Tamblyn said to herself. “Likely as not he’s gone out in one of the fish- ing boats; or maybe some farmer’s ill t’other side of the parish. He’ll be’ome ravenous by dinner time.” But when dinner time came and passed, and her lodger had not re- turned, Mrs. Tamblyn began to feel a little anxious. All the fishing boats had returned, but none of the fisher- men had seen the curate, neither had any one heard of anybody being seri- ously ill in the parish. When she had cleared away the din- ner things she threw a shawl over her head and shoulders and walked across to the postoffice. There might be a letter or a message of some kind. News generally reached the postof- fice first, and people often loitered there to catch the latest gossip. Mrs. Tamblyn’s face betrayed her anxiety. “T’'ve come across,” she said to the postmistress, “to see if there’s any word, from Mr. Grayton. I’m gettin’ a bit worried.” “Why, what has happened?” Miss Ladda asked, pausing in the opera- tion of stamping letters. “Well, it’s this way. He went out yesterday soon after dinner without sayin’ nothin’ where he was goin’ to, an’—well, he’s out still.” “You mean that he has not been at home since?” Mrs. Tamblyn nodded. “Can’t im- agine what’s come to ’im,” she said, with a troubled look in her eyes. “Ef he said he was goin’ to stay out all night ’twould be deffer’nt.” “But he has been known to stay out all night?” Miss Ladda questioned, in a level voice. She was anxious not to reveal how much she was con- cerned. “Oh, yes, lots of times. But, as I think ’bout it now, he always let me know aforehand.” “And he said nothing yesterday?” “Not a word. He just put on his hat an’ overcoat and went out as if he would be back in haaf an hour.” Just then the door was pushed open, and Mrs. Dyer entered. She also looked troubled, and, after a formal good afternoon to Mrs. Tamblyn, opened her heart to Miss Ladda. “Tm gettin’ worried "bout my lodger,” she said. “He went out yes- terday afternoon as usual, and he ain’t turned up sence.” “Well, now, ain’t that curious?” Mrs. Tamblyn interjected. “Mr. Gray- ton have played me just the same trick.” Mrs. Dyer faced round suddenly. “Do you mean to say the curate ain’t been home for the night?” she asked, sharply. “Just what I’ve been a-sayin’ to Miss Ladda, and I’m gettin’ a bit flur- ried about it.” Mrs. Dyer looked blank. “Do you know,” she said, at length, “that he called at our ’ouse yesterday?” “No, I didn’t.” “Well, he did. He called twice— once in the middle of the forenoon an’ again directly after dinner.” d he call to see you?” No; he called to see Mr. Nevins, and he d some time talkin’ to me. After dinner he seemed in a hurry. and when [| told him Mr. Nevins had gone out again he didn’t stay sca’ce another minute.” “Did he go after him, think?” “Goodness gracious, how should I know?” “He wanted to see ‘im very bad or he wouldn’t ha’ been twice to your house.” ' “That's so, no doubt. But I think I'd better ’urry ‘ome again. He may have turned up by this,” and Mrs. Dyer turned toward the door. Then she stepped back a pace or two and dropped a curtsy. Miss Mawgan was a person of im- portance in the neighborhood and was to be treated with becoming respect. “We was talking ’bout the curate and Mr. Nevins just now,” Mrs. Dyer remarked, in her most friendly tones, “an’ sayin’ ‘ow strange it was that they should both go out unbeknown to each other, as it were, and neither of ’em turn up for the night. I was just a-hurryin’ ‘ome, thinkin’, per- haps, as Mr. Nevins may have re- turned while I’ve been out.” During this speech Esther Maw- gan’s eyes had ben growing steadily wider. “Ts it true that Mr. Grayton is miss- ing?” she said, turning suddenly to Mrs. Tamblyn. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘missin’, miss,” Mrs. Tamblyn stammered, ‘but he ain’t turned up since he went out yesterday afternoon.”* “And do you mean to say that you have only now mentioned the mat- ter?” she asked, sharply. “Oh, lor’, no. I mentioned it to Mrs. Tael this morning, and to our Sam, and to Jemima Blake; but we didn’t think nowthin’ ’bout it then, put as the day’s gone on I’ve been gettin’ flurried.” (To Be Continued.) do you TORNADO LEFT THE MORTGAGE. Everything Else, However, on the Farm Was Demolished. “Yes, I passed through the Louisi- ana tornado of May,” said the south- erner in reply to the question. “In fact, I may say it was my own tornado —a little one got up for my own per- sonal delectation.” “How do you mean?” was asked. “Why, it began and ended on my own plantation. There was the whole state of Louisiana for to prance around in, but it paid its attentions to me alone. The planter to the west of me didn’t know that anything was happening.” “And about the damage?” : “Well, it could have been worse. The thing came like a cannon ball, and before I could whoop twice down went a hundred acres of standing timber, two barns, three sheds and my dwelling house, together with four miles of fencing.” “But how could worse?” “Oh, it might have swept the $3,099 mortgage. off the property, but that was left me to build upon again!” it have been The Same Old Bore. “Ah, Miss Wose,” he lisped, “there is a time for all things.” “Yes,” responded the weary rl with a yawn, “but some things don’t seem to notice the clock.” And even then he waited until the cuckoo had cuckooed twelve times be fore he called for his hat and cane. ‘The Origin of a Miserable Joke. Confucius had just met William Penn at one of Cleopatra’s 5-o’clock teas. “William Penn?” he said; “William Penn? Seems to me I have heard of you, sir.” “Yes?” said Penn, with a pleased smile. “I am the man who was mightier than the sword.” “Ah, yes,” said Confucius. ‘You are also the man who invented sleep, are you not?” “No,” said Penn. delphia.” “Oh, yes,” said Confucius. “I knew it was something of that kind.” “I founded Phila- The Winner. Stranger—Who won that indolence contest last summer? Native—I reckon I did, stranger. I was too lazy even to compete. Pettit’s Eye Salve Restores. No matter how badly the eyes may be diseased or injured. All druggists or How- ard Bros., Buffalo, N. Y. No Place for Her. Wife — Shall we take Aunt Back- woods to the Sunday night sacred con- cert? Husband—No, religious music. She cares only for If Your Feet Ache or Burn get a 2%ce package of Allen’s Foot-Wase. It gives quick relief. ‘I'wo million packages sold yearly. A Little Too Thin. Gentleman—It’s no use your whin- ing to me; I can see through you. 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