Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, November 25, 1914, Page 7

$0| HE basis of elastic paint— Tthe kind that expal?ds and contracts with the wood, leav- ing no cracks exposed to the weather—is ATLANTIC WHITE LEAD (Dutch Boy Paiater Trade Mark) and pure linseed oil. We sell these prime paint ingredients as well as the necessary tinting matter to get the color combination you desire. memw:‘mmtm. It's full WILSON HARDWARE COMPANY Lakeland, Florida e ——— 2 é : before havirg your Electrical work done. 3, We can save you money and give you better ‘3': “stuff’’ than you have been getting, and for § a litt e less money. T. L. CARDWELL, Electrical Contractor EVERYTHING ELECTRICAL : PHONE 233 § West Main Street and New York Avenue SEFPEBEIIEE LTI T e RS I AR R ) L First Class Work Guaranteed JIM SING Chinese Laundry Work Called for and Delivered I have been a resident of Florida for 20 years, and am well known to many prominent gentlemen, all of w}fl_n will recommend me as doing First Class Work at Reason- able Prices JIM SING 218 Pine Street Phone 257 g B BB PBP R P B BB frefefrfind KELLEYSB /FFED 'Plymouth Rocks ROTH MATINGS Better now than ever before reasonable prices. Fgge from high class pens for hatching. Write me before ordering else where. H L. KELLEY.Griffin Fla Just received a Shipment of Heinz Dill Pickles In Bulk, 20c per doz Give us your Orders for Dressed Turkeys Edmonson & Mills rm?: BIG PURE FOOD STORE AND MARKET PHONE 93-279 High class breeding birds at| THE EVENING TALEGRAM, LAKELAND, FLA., NOV. 25, 1914. oI CIICINOCO00e By H. M. EGBERT. _— “Mr. Hanson, I—I—I brought you some grapes.” The shy girl from the valley depos- ited the cluster upon the llmoy rudely- made table in Hanson's shack and stood looking at him wistfully, the blushes deepening upon her cheeks. Hanson looked past her, down at the valley far beneath him, into which the evening mists were already rolling from the sea. It was a wonderful scene, that valley, filled with rich vineyards and fruit orchards, where men toiled and reaped the wealth of the fertile earth, while here, on these barren mountains— “Mr. Hanson, I guess you must be awful lonesome up here, with only poor Mr. Davis for company,” sald Myra sadly, “That was why—" “Why you took pity on a poor con- sumptive?” queried Hanson, ironically. The girl nodded. Hanson looked at her again. He had almost learned to love her during his three months’ stay on the mountains. Hardly a day passed but she brought him some little offer- ing—a bottle of milk, a bunch of grapes, some peaches, some flowers. “I—T1 hope you'll soon be well again,” she eaid, and turned and ran down the slope, : Hanson smiled fronically again. There was something of irony in his presence there, he, the gupposed con- sumptive, for whom the police of a dozen cities were busily searching. He had wished a thousand times that he were even what he prftended to be, instead of having vigorous health. It once that search abated, if only he could lie down to sleep without the guilty fear of apprehension before morning; if only he could see an ap- proaching stranger without feeling that abominable quaking of the heart, then life would offer him nothing bet- ter than a cottage in that same fertile valley below—and Myra. He knew she loved him, for it was impossible for the simple valley girl to conceal her feelings. And he knew that she was his for the asking. If only that pursuit would stop! A step at the door caused him to grasp his revolver in alarm, but at the sight of the newcomer his grip on it relaxed. ‘“Come in, Mr. Davis,” he sald. Davis was a young Englishman, strikingly like Hanson in appearance, only with that contrast that exists be- tween a healthy man and one in the i Caused Him to Grasp His Revolver in Alarm, last stages of tuberculosis. Davis oc- cupied a shack less than a mile dis- tant. “I came to you, Hanson,” he mut- tered in a shaky voice, sinking down in the chair. “I'm dying, old man.” “Nonsense,” sald Hanson briskly. “You look a sight better than you did this time last week.” “You can’t kid me, old man,” said Davis. “I'm a goner. I haven't any lungs left. My time has come all right and—I eay, I want you to go over my papers after I'm through and fix up a fow things for me, will you? I want my mother in England notified and—a few other things.” Hanson nodded. He could no longer play that game of deception which everyone plays with dying men. “You'd better spend the night here, old man,” he sald. “You might have an accident if you tried to go home in this fog.” “I—I'm not going home any more, Hanson,” gasped Davis, and slid to the floor unconscious. Hanson picked him up and placed him on his bed. Davis was barely alive —it was evident that his chances of going home were just about as slim as he had claimed. Hanson looked at the unconscious man in deep uncer- tainty. There was a doctor in the val- ley, some ten miles distant. Should he go to him and leave Davis alone, or stay with him? There was little that he could do; on the other hand there might be a chance. He was still cogitating when Davis opened his eyes again. “Old man,” he whispered, “I want you to do some- thing for me.” “Of course, Davis,” said Hanson. “1 as thinking of going for the doc- “Never mind the doctor,” Davis an- swered, a faint smile crossing his face. “He can't help me now. 1 say, would you light the candle, Hanson?" Hanson struck a match and applied it to the wick. The tiny, flickering ! flame illumined the little cabin, show- l ing the sick man's face, ghastly white, | a8 be tessed upon the bed g4 A DEATH FOR A LIFE|"25" “Of course I will,” said Hanson cheerily. “Now, you lie still, Davis, \ I “Come here, Hanson,” whispered Da- ‘vin. “I—I can’t shout. I want a | photograph—photograph of a girl on ! the table beside my bed. Will you and I'll be back as soon as possible.” “God bless you!” Davis muttered, grasping Hanson’s hands between his own, sion. Davis’ shack was only a short distance, but the way to it was a stiff climb among the crags and loose boulders which strewed the slope, and in that fog it would take the better part of an hour to go there and return. Hanson did not spare himself. The fog was still dense, and it was almost by instinct that he picked his way among the crevasses until he saw the outlines of Davis' shack loom indie- tinctly before him. Then he entered. Upon the little table was the pho- tograph of a beautiful English girl, evidently Davis' sweetheart. The tears rushed into Hanson's eyes. What a fate! What a fate! & thousand times! He took the photograph and start- ed back. Although he had stayed \ny a few minutes inside the cabin, Better his own, the fog was lifting, and the stars that appeared through the rift in the clouds gave promise of a brilliant night. The return was therefore easier than the start. Hanson hurried through the pines, leaping from rock to rock, all his efforts bent upon returning to his | shack before Davis lapsed into the ! final unconsciousness. Already he had ascended the last elevation and could see the cabin in the distance when a shout beneath him sent him upon his face in instinct- ive alarm. Then other shouts fol- lowed, and Hanson perceived half a dozen men spring up from the "nde brush and surround the cabin. “Come out, Hart,” yelled the ..ader, : the sheriff, evidently, a big man wear- I \u a brace of revolvers in his belt. | “We've got you fair, Hart, and you'd | best come out and not make any trou- ble for us.” i There was no cabin, “Hanson, then, if you like that name better,” the sheriff continued. “Come along, boy, or we'll burst in the door for you. Which is it to be?" | There was not the slightest re- ‘ ! sound within the sponse within. A moment of silence followed. Then the sherift applied | his shoulder to the flimsy door. It cracked and splintered, yielding so ; suddenly that it precipitated him sud- denly upon his face inside. “Come along, boys, here he is,” yelled the sherif in triumph, and sprang to his feet, followed by the whole half dozen of his assistants. ' Hanson, cowering among the rocks, heard their shouts of surprise. Then followed a period of silence, intermin- ably long to the crouching man, but in reality of only a few seconds’ du-} ration. The men came trooping out ! again, “Dead for a ducat!” the sheriff mut- tered. “Poor devil! It's a mean way to die, ain’t it, boys!"” They came slowly toward the spot where Hanson lay. “Well, boys,” the sheriff said, “there ain’'t nothing to be done, 1 guess, ex- cept to bury him. We've identified Hanson, or Hart, for sure from his photograph, and we'll get the reward. We can’t keep him above ground until the detectives come from the East to identify him themselves.” “That's right, Jim,” answered one of the men. sheriff, halting. “I saw a spade out- side the shack. There's no use com- ing back again from San Antonio.” The two men went back slowly, fol- lowed by the rest. They almost brushed against the rock behind which Hanson lay concealed. As the sheriff passed, Hanson recognized him. He was a man from San Antonio, five miles over the mountain, a village into which Hanson had sometimes gone for provisions, taking a short cut through the hills. prise part of the secluded valley be- low. The news of the fugitive’s death would be flashed across the continent long before it filtered into the isolated community among Wwhich Myra dwelled. It was more than an hour before the party returned. They passed 8- lently and went upon their way. Then Hanson arose and ran toward the cabin. Outside, where there was a small space of deep soil among the rocks, was a newly-made grave. The cabin was empty. It seemed Incredible to Hanson that | bis friend lay there, buried from sight until the judgment day. His footprints were still upon the turf; there was the chair in which he had sat, and | the impress of his body upon the bed. And in his hand Hanson etill held the photograph. Stooping down he threw some spade- fuls of earth aside and placed the pho- tograph, face downward, above the dead man. Then he threw the dirt over the spot once more and heaped | on boulders to guard against ralding ; coyotes. ' A Bible text came into his mind: “There 18 no greater love than tml.l than a man lay down his life for his | friend.” All at once Hanson found hlmnelt’ sobbing uncontrollably. Davis had died, and, in dying, had given him his freedom. Aye, but there was some- thing more. He had given him his' soul again. His life must be lived for others henceforward, because his former life lay buried there. | Hanson looked down across the val ley toward the place where llyn! lived. “To the mew life!” he whispered, ! “the new life together!” l (Copyright. 1914, by W. G. Chapmaa.) I Hanson hurried away upon his mis- | ; |. “Then let’s finish the job,” said the . San Antonio did not com- | %’ TSR TSy R em— Don’t Talk War, But Talk Business, and Boost Your Town HE HUB is still selling Hart Schaffner & Marx E i § good Clothing, and it is the i best clothing ever brought to your city. Now, Old Men and Young Men, come arourd and see what you can buy for $15 and $18 to $25 Have just reccived a new shipment of Arrow Shirts, Neckwear and Onyx Hose Will appreciate showing them to everybody JOS. The | H“b LeVAY This Store is the Home of Hart Schaffner and Marx Goeod Clothing i Mayes Grocery Company WHOLESALE GROCERS e E find that low prices and long time will not go haud in hand, and on May 1st we installed our STRICTLY CASH. We have saved the people of Lakeland and Polk County thousands of dollars in the past, and our new system will still reduce the cost of living, and also reduce our expenses, snd enable us to put the knife in still deeper. We carry a full line of Groceries, Feed,’Grain, Hay, Crate Material, and Wilson & Toomer’s IDEAL EERTILIZERS always on hand. L Mayes Grocery Company : 211 West Main Street. LAKELAND, FLA. ? £ D i P PIIIMPOIEEIEEID I PP IILIIEOLIIEIEE gmh*:mmmane el | | l - I Lower Prices on Ford Cars ‘\ Effective August Ist, 1914 to Augustist, | 1915 and guaranteed against any reduction ;) during that time. All cars tully equipped | f 0. b. Detroit. : ‘ Runabout... ... ... $440 ‘ Touring Car ........ 490 | Town Car... ... ... 690 | Buyers to Share in Profits All retail buyers of new Ford cars from August 1st, 1914 to August Ist, 1915 will ‘ share in the profits of the company to the extent of $40 w $60 per car, on each car they buy, FROVIDED: we sell and de- ‘ « liver 300,000 new Ford cars during that pe- | riod. Ask ua for particulars { FORD MOTOR COMPANY Hy | Lakeland Auto and Supply Co. DOLK COUNTY AGENTS. n