Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, April 24, 1915, Page 6

DIANONDS FOR A DRINK By H. M. EGBERT (Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.) Vanderhuizen, the big Dutchman, stepped aboard the downcountry train €rom Kimberley, South Africa, en route for Cape Town. He laid his suit case carelessly uoon the rack, placed his band upon his breast to make sure that the package for which he had tisked many years of freedom, was there, and sat down in a seat, look- ing out at the desert landscape. At Boshof a stranger came into the trala, looked keenly about him, and finally, spotting Vanderhuizen, seated himself opposite him. Vanderhuizen recognized him as a man named James, from Kimberley also; he had once been a mine guard, but had been dismissed for some dishonesty. He had contrived in some way to avold the clutches of the law, always severe on buyers of diamonds from the native quarrymen. s Vanderhuizen nodded surlily. James was the last person in the world that he wanted to see just then. James smiled sardonically. *“Come fnto the smoker, Van,” he said, “and we can discuss business.” Vanderhuizen uttered an oath and his hand stole in a betraying manner to the package inside his coat. He saw James’ eyes follow the movement and realized that he was trapped. Sul- lenly he arose and accompanied him. “Well?” he growled, as they took their places in the empty smoker. “Halves!” said James, laconically. “I'm fly” “Curse you!” said Vanderhuizen. “It's a lucky thing you met me,” re- turned James, quietly. “Do you know Thompeon of the Kimberley police?” “What of him?” “He's in the next compartment. He's undoubtedly waiting to arrest you as “Hand Over the Bag!”™ soon as you step off the train. If he can get you to Cape Town without do- ing 80, he will save himself a lot of trouble, That's why I came—I got wind of the affair.” The big Dutchman scowled fearfully. Seven years on the breakwater for {ilicit dlamond buying was the last thing in the world that he wanted. ‘And the stones in his breast pocket were worth twelve thousand pounds snywhere. “What's the game?" he demanded. “Halves?” questioned James. “I suppose s0.” “I've telegraphed for two saddle horses to wait at Klipfontein station. ‘We'll get there at dark. We can make & dash from the train, mount and be away before Thompson spots us. The saddle-bags are loaded with a week’s food. In three days we can cross the desert to Khama's Land, where we can pick up ar ox wagon and make our way intc Johannesburg. Thompson will be clean off the scent. It will take him a couple of hours to find a horse, and then he won't know for { we are going to Khama's Land. “I'm with you,” buizen, eurtly. At Klipfontein the program was carried out. As the train drew, shriek- ing, up to the station, the confederates leaped from the carriage. At the rear of the platform a native man was waiting with two saddle horses, tough lititle Basuto ponies, of the kind that would carry their loads where no European horse could go. Two leaps into the saddles, two pulls at the reins, and the thieves were padding quickly through the single street of the settle- ment and out into the desert. They looked back when they reached the sand. In the distance they saw a crowd gathered about a tall man who was making futile efforts to strike a quick bargain for a horse. They rode till evening. When the moon came up they were alone upon the desert. They dismounted, made a fire from the scanty thorn scrub, and cooked some of the meat in James' saddle bags. On either side of the sad- dle hung a large water bag, the mois replied Vander- “Landlady.” distinction which the posses- land used to give is still exem- in the titles of “landlord” and " Persons are amused at colored washwoman, for instance, insists on the term “lady.” But the same woman run a rooming whatever description, and of ot a “landwoman,” but a “land- Eaglish Field Marshal. Haglish field marshal leag ago as 1796 1 contents cold as spring water. They watered the horses scantily. They watched by turns and started out at dawn. It was ten miles to the nearest water pool, where the water bags were to be refilled. “I believe we've missed the pool,” said James, tovard noon. All around them was the shimmering desert, de- void now even of thorn scrub. The horses panted from the heat. James gave them the last of the water. “We'll strike another water hole be‘ore dark,” he said to his compan- fon. But they did not strike the water hole, and by sunset the horses were unable to proceed farther. James’ was down, and Vanderhuizen's stood trembling, and evidently on its last legs. “We had better press on afoot,” said James. “I know there is a water hole at the foot of the mountains.” And he pointed to where the blue out- lines of a distant range rose against the cloudless sky. He removed his saddle bags and slung them across his shoulders, and the two men proceeded wearily. James lagged behind Vanderhuizen, who, tor- tured by thirst, walked like a man in a nightmare. On they went, hour aft- er hour, till suddenly the big Dutch- man went down. “You'd best leave me; I'm done for,” he murmured. James set down his saddle bags, opened them, and pulled out a bottle of water. He held it in the air. Van- derhufzen leaped to his feet, to find himself looking down the muzzle of a revolver. “Hand over the bag,” said James, briefly. “You scoundrel!” shouted Vander- huizen, through his swollen lips. “This bottle for your half,” James pursued. “And—I know where to find the water hole.” Vanderhuizen glared at him; then, l i GIFT OF TH GROOM By OLIVE ROBERTS BARTON (Copyright, 1911, by Associaied Literary Press.) Eric Prescott stood at the window ; of his little real estate office in Ford- port. He had opened it in the fall and now it was spring. He looked at the landscape com- placently we.l pleased with himself for various reasons. In the first place, coming from the south, he had shiv- ered and shaken all the cold morth- ern winter; but the warm May weath- er suited him. The freshness of! everything, the little yellowish green leaves, the smell of the lilacs and the songs of the birds made Fordport more like home, Another reason for his felicity was the little office and the row of six nearly completed frame houses half a block down the street. He could see the latter from his window. The out- side work had been done before the rough weather and the inside during the winter months. Nothing remained to be done but the trimming, paving and one extra coat of paint on each. Eric Prescott was engaged to be married to Rose Marshall, the belle of Fordport. When he had settled in the village eight months before Rose was engaged to marry Tom Lyle. The minute he saw Rose, Eric made up his mind to have her. The fact that she was engaged to Tom Lyle was nothing to him. Few girls would have been proot against the siege he immediately laid to Rose’s favor. His southern accent and excellent taste in clothes, which set off his tall slender figure, made him favorite with all women. Eric showered gifts of candy, roses, books and music on Rose, who re- with a gesture of despair, he took the | fused them all at first—then accepted precious bag from his breast and tossed | 8 few flowers reluctantly and finally, it to the other. all that he has to save his life. Next moment Vanderhuizen had | Tom quarreled and that was euctlyl knocked the head off the bottle and was gulping down _the fluid. ally. life-giving | engaged and Rose was seemingly hap- James watched him sardonic- | py. Shg was the envy of all the Ford: “You will find the water hole half a ! mile distant, at the foot of that eleva- For a man will give | overwhelmed with many attentions, succumbed completely. Then she and ' what Eric wanted. They were soon port girls. The corner house in the row was' to be hers when they were married. tion,” he said, indicating a hummock ! Eric gave her to understand that be- in the sand. And he watched Vander- huizen stagger away. He went back to the horses and, knocking the heads off the other bot- tles, poured the contents down their throats. The animals, revived, |ul-' gered to their feet. His own horse was done for, but Vanderhuizen's seemed capable of cgrrying him to his destination—another water hole along the wagon route across the desert, which he knew like a book. He clasped the diamonds to his breast as he rode, and chuckled. The scheme had been an excellent one and had worked out better than he could have expected. He had heard in Kim- berley, by the merest chance, that Vanderhuizen intended to go down country. He himself had never dared to purchase diamonds from the na- tives, but he knew Vanderhuizen's reputation as a successful and daring thief, and it had occurred to him that there was a splendid opportunity of compelling the man to share hig plun- ‘der with him. The advent upon the scene of In- spector Thompson had been a little disconcerting; but the same chance which had told him of Vanderhuizen’s maneuver had given him information that the police were on the man's trail. He had then telegraphed to Kliptontein for the two horses—and everything had gone like clockwork. It was no wonder that he chuckled. fore she had accepted him, She joked at home about loving the house as much as she loved Eric. The house began to look different from the others in the row. The' porch was extended around the side and made two feet wider than the other porches. | Rose, busy with her trousseau, ap- peared to be very happy and the wed- ding was a month away. She seldom saw Tom Lyle. He was spending most of his time now at the farm a half mile from the village. She con- gratulated herself that she had es- caped a life of monotony in the coun- try. Town life suited her. One day she met Tom driving two strange men toward the farm. He seemed to be explaining something to them and merely nodded at Rose. She went home thoughtfully. He evi- dently was not unhappy. The day following this meeting with Rose, Tom hitched his little black mare to the runabout and drove over to see his chief counclior and confessor, Aunt Polly Goodwin. She was taking a “nap” in her sitting room when Tom drove in at the gate. “What news, Tommy? Sit right down here. Now tell me—is there much coal on the farm?” “Yes, Aunt Polly, acres of it they say. Congratulate me. I am a rich man.” “Bless your heart, Tommy,” sald Looking back he could see the horse the old lady, wiping her eyes with the still lying upon the sand, and Vander- huizen, a tiny figure under the moon, ' marching painfully back. His own plans could not fail him. He would strike the water hole, refresh himself and his steed, and then proceed in a ° leisurely manner toward the wagon path. At last he reached the place. He shackled his horse to a torn tree and climbed the ascent toward the hollow crater in which lay the pond. But when he reached the summit he found him- ' self staring down into a dry mud hole. The water had dried up under the influence of the hot sun and an unus- ually long dry season. For a few minutes he could not be- lieve his eyes. Then he lost his self control. He would have to go back to Vanderhuizen. And his bottles were empty. He was parched with thirst, and his animal was incapable of pro- ceeding farther. For hours he raved beside the water hole, clenching his fists and calling down curses upon his luck. He spread the diamonds in a little heap before him and looked at the dull pebbles, each one worth a little lake of wine. And for all these he could not get so much water as would wet his lips. “I'll go back then—back to Vander- huizen,” he muttered, and flung him- self upon (ho rocks. “When | am rested. But nature, outraged, revenged her- self upon him by drawing down his eyelids, and he slept profoundly. “Get up, James!™ He started to his feet. The sun was high in the sky. Before him stood Vanderhuizen and—Inspector Thomp- son. “I want you, James,” said the in- spector, fingering the bag of diamonds, which he had taken from beside the sleeping man. “I thought Vander- huizen was the man I was after, but— well, you understand. Your horse is dead, but you won't mind a little walk of twenty-five miles or so? You see, we've got plenty of water.” Phosbe’s Only Chance. Cats at a cat show are not scored corner of her apron. 80 glad for you."” “Thanks, Aunt Polly; but riches do me little good now,” he returned a little bitterly. The old lady looked at Tom keen- ly. “If you don't mind me mention- ing it, Tom, I have been doing a lit- tle thinking lately, since you talked of finding coal. May I suggest a Iit- tle plan? You used to take my advice.” “Fire away, auntle, that's what 1 came for."” “Well, it is this way. I hate to see a fine girl likke Rose Marshall throw herself away on that southern dude, and ruiln her life at the same time. Her heart is in the right place, but her head has been turned by Pres- cott's attentions and his house. Now that you have some money—" “Money!” he interrupted impatient- ly. “If you mean that Rose will mar ry me now that [ am rich—" “Hush, Tom!"” she sald softly. “Now listen to me. Rose is not to know a word about your good luck. Neither 1s anyone In town to know it for a little while. This is my plan.” Tom left a half hour later thinking what a wonder Aunt Polly was and with a determined set to his lips bod- ing good or {ll for someone. One day, a week or so before the wedding, Rose stopped in to see Kric at his office. “I've come to ask about the window seat in the dining-room, Eric,” she ex- plained after he had kissed her. “I do not want it varnished. Did you tell Simmons?" Eric looked uncomfortable for a minute, then walked to the window and looked over at the house. “Do you like the place so well, Rose?" “I love it. Why?" “I have just sold it" “You what?" “Sold 1t.” “That house! Sold it!” “Yes." “l am so glad, Our housel Mine! Varied Menu. The cherus girl dines one day em & erust and the next on a crustacean~ New York Evening Mail. wanted an immediate answer. were in Foxburg yesterday and I could not walt to ask you. So I wired ‘Yes." You didn’t care so much as that for the house, did you? We can put up another.” She rose unsteadily, the tears start- ing to her eyes. “I must think it all :vcr. Erle Iama llt.tll upset. Good- y." Alone in her room, Rose began to think as she had mot done for months. The sale of the house, his wedding gift to her, had given her a sudden jolt. But after all a house is | only a house, her common sense’ kept telling her. She must do nothing for which she would be sorry. But some- thing was wrong with her. All her feeling for Eric seemed dead. Surely his thoughtlessness could not kill real love s0 easily. Rose sat and thought it all out. Then she realized for the first time that her feeling for the southerner was not love at all. She cried herself to sleep that night thinking of Tom. “Oh, what have | done?” she nioaned. “I have spolled his I'fe and mine, but I would rather live in a cave with him than in a pal- ace with Eric.” In the morning she awoke clear- headed and courageous. Before she dressed she wrote two notes, one to Eric breaking the engagement, and a very short one to Tom, merely asking him to come to see her as she had something to explain. Tom went to Rose’s house. He had | not been surprised to get the note. Rose, trying to look matter-of-fact ! and dignified, met bim at the door. ! And Tom pretended not to notice her | burning cheeks and eyes which threatened to run over. f “I will just keep you a minute, ' Tom,” she sald simply, “but I wanted you to know something. It 1s due you. ! You were entirely in the right when‘ Wwe quarreled and I am very sorry. was wrong and | want you to know lt | And another thing—" She stopped suddenly, then caught her breath and | the color left her face. “1 have broken Iy engagement to Mr. Prescott. l talnk you should be the first one to know it. J gdlscovered quite accident- \ ally that I did not love him. That s all, Tom,” she said, rising and holding | out her hand with a smile, “except | that mother and 1 are going away to- | morrow for a month or two and 1 will say good-by. Do say I am for(lven.f {1 would feel better about it, you know." Tom looked at her steadily, then took her little pink hand in his. slow-' 1y he reached for the other and got it. “Rose!"” Rose dropped her eyes and turned crimson again. “Rose, do you love me?” No answer. “Tell me. Do you love me?" “Yes, Tom,” almost inaudibly. He gathered her in his arms and kissed he! “Dea he sald a little later. "1, too, have something I must get off my mind. I thought I would beat Eric at his own game. ‘All's fair in: love and war,’ he used to say, and so it 1s.” Rose looked startied. He went on. “Did Eric tell you he had sold the, house?” | “Yes.” ' “Well—I bought it. The farm IlllI valuable coal on it, Rose, and 1 sold | the rights. No one knows fit, b‘t ll am rich now. I had an idea you did not love Eric Prescott and I deter- | mined to try him, too. I got an uncle | of mine to make an offer for the house to see If he would sell it. Pres. | cott sent the answer by wire in Iou' than five minutes. Now am I for-, given, dear? The house 1s still yours, | you know.” Rose put her arms around his neck. “You are a dear, but I would rather live in the eountry," she said. QuICK wIT SAVED SITUATION French Audl.nco. True to Natural Characteristic, Mollified by Poor Attempt at Joke. Mr. Harry Fragson tells a good story of an experience he had while on a tour in France. It was about Christmas-time when he found himself at & small town where he was billed to sing while he played a grand plano. In French a grand plano is a plano & queue, and when he appeared on the stage with the only thing avall- able a cottage plano, the audience were fairly emphatic in their request to know where was the plano a queue. Mr. Fragson could see that unless something were done there would be trouble, and a bright idea came to him. On the following evening, when he appeared on the stage, the loud mur murs were renewed, and the same question asked with, if nothing, more emphasis. Then Mr. Fragson walked to the front of the stage and informed them that he was very sorry the small space would not admit of anything larger than a cottage piano. “8till,” he said, “if you must have s plano a queue, you shall have fit. There is the plano,”—polnting to it— “and here”—as he produced a horse's tall—*“is the queue!” Fortunately the jest was taken well, and a flasco, perhaps even a riot, was avolded. A Success. Husband—How was the woman's seasion? Wife—Best time I ever had. I was the best dressed woman present.— —_— Goat o Regimental Pet, | est berry producing section in the | of her oged husband. Two boys had FINDING A NEW LIFE By EGBERT WARRING. ‘hapman.) g\‘?fil‘;‘:‘l&a :Epa:); :!vl g:fle(p flmlnlg’ minute, Doctor Abernathy spoke h;o & dozen words that pronounced t! seeming doom of Walter Thorne: Within an hour the young man in questl ; tion had analyzed the situation ll:t | was philosophically resigned to i Within the week Thorne saw & n: | name on the glittering plate glass v\h:l | dows, paid up all his debts, sent to h: uncle in another city the capital = had supplied to start him in busines! and gave up his elegant club. - Walter was sorry, but resigned. e counted up his resources, al liquid, | and amounting to some twenty thou- ollars. | u:{d. ‘hld donated half of that to 8 school for indigent juveniles. Five ! thousand dollars he had sent to @ poor, remote relative. He calculated | that $1,000 would be abundant to die on, and the other four went in indis- criminate charity. Walter finally settled on the Ozark | mountain region as a final destina- tion. He approached it by slow stages. The last 100 miles he made | on foot. He felt weary at times. Th lack of hope and ambition gave him a motiveless sensation. One thing he| noticed, however: He was eating with | an appetite now, a rarity for ten year! | Ono evening he was belated by 2| storm between towns. He remained | within the shelter of a mountain cave till the rain had passed on. It was aft- | er midnight when he reached a rail- road junction. It was to view a novel and unaccustomed spectacle Local freight trains were standing | on different tracks, headed in various * directions. Lanterns were flashing ev- erywhere, and the scene was one of extraordinary activity. All kinds of vehicles were standing beside the cars, unloading their contents, long, low boxel nailed tightly and handled with tare. “What is in those boxes?” Walter ventured to ask. “Strawberries,” was the explanation. “Within eighteen hours they will be on the home tables of every big city in the middle West!" Then Walter knew that he was at the main shipping point of the great- country, One old woman with only two cases carried them to the cars with the aid carried their boxes in a little wazon to which was attached two dogs. Wal- ter experienced renewed interest as he saw a common hand cart appear. A girl navigated it, a strap running harnesslike from the propelling handles across her shapely shoulders. In the welrd, flickering light about her she was a rare picture of earnest. healthful industry. There was a cheery token of duty and vitality in her beautiful face that enchained Wal- ter. He asked a man who she was. “That's Netta Oliver," was the ce: ply; “the sweetest lassie on Beaver creek. Her father and mother are both {11, and she has buckled down to keeping the flour barrel full, like the jewel she is.” Walter stopped at a hote! that night He could not get the face and name of the girl he had seen out of his mind. The next day he made some | further inquiries about the Oliver fam. ily. He found that they were too poor to afford a horse and wagon. He pit- fed the girl, who night after night did the service of a beast of burden, dragging the rackety handcart over the uneven country roads. He made a whimsical resolve. Two mornings hter. seated in a stout, light wagon wllh a sturdy horse attached, he drove into the yard of the little 20-acre farm where Netta Oliver lived. She was among the vines, wearing & neat, coverall apron. Her radiant eyes somewhat abashed him as he asked for her father. He found the latter and his wife seated comfortably on the porch of the little cottage, con- valescing from an attack of chills and tever. “I've _heard of you, Mr. Thorne,” spoke Walter. “I am an invalid in quest of health. I like this spot. Could you board me for a few weeks”" And then Walter went on to tell that he had a little money, but that he would give the rig he had bought for & month’s board. For 30 golden days Walter Thorne found a new interest in life. He be came a real worker—and a lover. Day by day the gentle, lovable Netta grew more and more precious to him. Her parents were up and about now, and the one desire of the father was to se- cure an additional 80 acres of land It would mean a fortune in time, he claimed, and then Walter was sorry he had given away his fortune. One day Walter went to town. He proceeded to the office of the leading physician. He left it with an eager, hopeful face. | “You are a perfectly healthy the doctor had said. “Whatever z:!x;:: ened you two months ago, your new I'l.f:::; neutralized. Only—keep away @ wear and tear an gt e d turmod] ot That evening Walter asked Netta to marry him, and she consented. He had written to his uncle, telling him WHO GETS THE MONEY YOU EARN? DO YOU GETIT, ¢ DOES:SOMEBODY ELSE WHO DOES NOT EARN IT? YOUR “EARNING POWER’ CANNOT LASTIALWAYS, WHILE YOUARE MAKING MONEY BANK IT ANDZBE Fixg FOR OLD AGE. / JUST DO A LTTTLE THINKING. onvk_WITH US. WE PAY 5 PERICENT INTEREST ON TIME DEPOSITS, American State Bank “BE AN AMERICAN ONE OF UuS.” —— B S EEeeeetent e i tant Flour! g B, - Floyr! P Now is the Time to Lay In a Supply F 98 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour 24 Ib. Sacks Best Plain Flour 12 1b. Sacks Best Plain Flour 98 Ib. Srlf-Rising Flour $3.85 1.00 50c 400 L. 6. IWEEDELL PHONE 59 “It's a Wise Head that Builds a Shed” Some one, also wise, has said,— “To pratect your tools from dew and dust And the ravages of rain and rust” Plenty of Shed Room On a Farm Is pretty goog evidence of economical and Successful management. o Lakeland Manufacturing Company LAKELAND FLA. L PHONE ¢