New Britain Herald Newspaper, August 4, 1921, Page 5

NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, THURSDAY, AUGUST 4, Baby Specialists. THAT there are Physicians who specialize on Infant ailments you know. All Physicians understand Infant troubles: all Physicians treat them. It is his profession, his duty, to know human ills from the Stork to the Great Beyond. But ir serious cases he calls in the Specialist. Why? He knows as every Mother knows, or ought to know, that Baby is j ment, special remediog ust & baby, needing special treat- Can a Mother be less thoughtful? Can a Mother try to relieve Baby with % remedy that she would use for herself? Ask yourself; and answer honestly! remember that Baby is just a baby. And remembering this you will remember that Fletcher's Castoria is made especially for' Infants and At Dmonths m—— Children Cry For The False and the True. Advertising by the use of large space, the e nditure of huge sums of money have placed on the market, have put in yox» home, perhape, many articles that today have been discar. ded, as you will readily admit. Do you recall anything that has more modestly appealed to the public than has Fletcher’s Castoria: modest in all its claims, pleading at all times—and truthfully—for our babies? The big splurg, the misleading claims may win for a time, but the honest truth-telling advertiser is like the old story of the tortoise that beat the hare. Mothers everywhere, and their daughters, now mothers, speak frankly, glowingly, enthusiastically in praise of Fletcher’s Castoria. Speak of it lovingly as a friend that has brought comfort, cheer and smiles to their little-one. To them: to these true mothers no argument can ind the to set aside their bottle of Castoria, their old friend, that th:;emizl,:: try even er and unknown remedy for babies. Then, would YOU think of going to YOUR OWN medicine chest to find relief for Baby’s troubles? Can you not separate the false from the true? MOTHERS SHOULD READ THE BOOKLET THAT IS AROUND EVERY BOTTLE OF FLETCHER'S CASTORIA GeNUINE CASTORIA aLwavrs Bears the THE UNLATCHED DOOR Concerning a And a Thayer — Man a Maid Murder (Copyright, 1920 by T he Century Company.) (Continued from Yesterday's Herald.} Richard Ven Loo Schuyler, the last son of one of New York’s oldest and wealthy families, arrives home partial- ly intoxicated one night, walks into the wrong house and stumbles over the body of a murdered woman. Realizing the dangers of his predica- men: he flees to his home next door. In the morning he receives a call for help from a servant girl next door, to whom he has been attracted. She tells him her name is Nora and says she has just discovered the corpse of her mistress, a Mrs. Rutledge, who ap- peared to have been murdered during the night. In the absence of any one in the house except the servants, Richard takes charge and summons a physician and the police. When he tells Nora what he has done he is surprised to hear her say, “I am going to ask something more of you, you know the best reward for having wrought well—" “Is to have more to do,” answered Richard. Nora, whose surname proves to be Brady, asks Schuyler to keep for her a mysterious package, which she claims would prove embarrassing if found in her possession in the event of a police search. While being ex- amined by the police Miss suddenly faints when the house- keeper, a Miss McLeod, states that she objected to engaging Nora when she was hired, because the latter had no references. Peter Clancy, a famous detective, working for ‘the police department, learns that Mrs. Rutledge was out the night of the murder with a man named Pendle- ton who Has subsequently disap- peared. Clancy also finds the inner sole of a man's shoe, which Schuyler recognizes as having dropped from one of his shoes when he started to remove them the night before. After several attempts to get rid of the shoes, Schuyler finally drops them into the ash can. He is horrified t» find in the package given him by Nora a photograph of the murdered weman and a piece of the blood “tained gloth. Nora, who has disappear ed mysteriously, is thought to be liv- ing in old Greenwich village, her cor- rect address being known only to a man named Vincent Quarterly, whom Schuyler has met and followed on a train. Rutledge, when examined by 1he police, admitted being out the night of the murder wih another maa and two women, one of whom was Irene Claimont, an actress. He de- scribed Pendleton as a “sort of a tame cat,” and said he thought there Wwas some mysterious understanding between his wife and Nora. Quarterly fivally tells Schuyler he will try to Bave Nora telegraph him. = Qp tho strength of a clue that Pen- ) b ; living a! the b 3 fleld or Seaport, adicining towns on Long Island, one detective poes there only to learn that his man had been there and left. Schuyler receives a letter from Nora, who tells him that Nora Brady was an assumed name and giving her real name as Eleanor Wentworth. She asks that her package be sent to her at, Altonville, Pa. He drives over and delivers the package In person. Detective Clancy interviews a Miss Alice Dalton, also an actress who helped -make up the supper party with Rutledge the night of the mur- der. During her temporary absence from the room he discovers in a *able drawer a knife which mignt have been the weapon used to com- mit the murder. He also had with him when he left a man’'s blood- stained handkerchif. The shoes thrown into the ash can by Schuyler are found by Policeman Clancy and turned over to one of the detectives who discovers the insole missing. Detective Fox in the mean- time has located Pendleton in a rural village in New Hampshire. Dick Schuyler, while driving to New York with Nora, is thrown out of his car, which skids when a tirs blows ,out, and falls unconscious to the ground. He came, after a time, out of the darkness of unconsciousness into the lighter darkness of the falling might. When he opened his eyes he looked straight up into the deep blue of the twilight heavens. Instantly the skies were obscured. Something soft and inflnitely com- forting which had been lying on his forehead, moved slightly and a voice far, far away sald, “Thank God!" “Nora,” he saild softly, and again, “Nora,” and tried to sit up. “Lie still for a moment. Don’t try to move yet.” “OL!” cried Dick, in deep distress. believe that you are hurt!” “No, no; really I'm not. I fell in a lot of sand, luckily for me. I can stand on my feet: see.” Dick had risen to his feet also and was looking searchingly into her face. He could just distinguish, in the dim light, the brave little smile which strove to be reassuring. Dick bit his lips. “You are hurt, you poor, brave little girl!” he said tenderly. “Sit down and let me look at that ankle.” He knelt before her and, pulling off her pump, examined her slender an- kle, which was already slightly swoll- en. It made him dizzy to lean for- ward, but he gave no sign. Sud- denly Nora cried out sharply and touched the back of his head. “It's bleeding!” she said. dn't you tell me?” “Why Signature of nEw vYomk ciTv. Dick, confusedly, putting up his hand. “By jove, 80 it is. Nasty mess, but doesn’t amount to anything.” She pressed a handkerchief with a delicate, sure touch against the cut in the back of his head, and held it there. Dick sighed infinite content and, reaching up, laid his hand gent- ly over hers. “I love you,” he said softly. love you. I love you.” “Hush,” she said softly. ‘When, at length, they again be- came conscious of their surroundings, night had fallen and a cold wind was whispering through the trees. They proceeded carefully, stopping every little while to rest. The tragedy which had brought them together was uppermost in their thoughts. Nora wanted to go on with the explana- tion she was about to make when the accident had occurred, but Dick would not allow her to do so unti he had told her the whole story of his midnight adventure. She breathed a little sigh of content when he had finished. “I thought it was something like that,”” she said. “What?” he asked, with a start of surprise. “You thought—" Let me tell you something,” she said, quietly, “and youw’ll understand why I was so deeply hurt at your questioning me about the strange things which seemed to link me with that horrible crime.” She paused a moment and then went on: “On that dreadful morning following the murder, after that kind old police officer had sent me up to my room, I felt faint again, prob- ably partly because I hadn’t had any breakfast. I thought I'd. better go down to the kitchen and get a cup of tea, and just as I was passing along the hall on the second floor I heard the street doors slam shut and almost immediately the lights in the lower hall flashed up. I stopped and looked over the banister and saw— all that passed. I knew from your movements and from the look on your face that you were trying to conceal something from the police. T was dreadfully puzzled and con- cerned, remembering the package I had given you. I waited and watched there in the dark. I couldn't help it. When you went into the drawing- room I hoped you were safe, but I stayed on, knowing you would come back for vour hat and bag. Then I saw the young detective stoop down and look under the settle. My heart almost stopped because I knew that whatever you had tried to hide was there. In a minute he stood up again and held something to the light. I could see it plainly—the insole of a man’s shoe.” = “And you trusted me!” said Dick. “You didn’t think for an instant that “Of course not! I knew you better, even then. I don’t care now if you know—"she laughed a little happy laugh that sung its way into his heart—"that I used to watch for you to come and go. I liked the way you looked. There was something so— Oh, I'm not going to make you con- ceited!” She turned her face to his and they smilled gaily into each -oth- er's eyes. “And then, that evening in the park when Vincent Quartley was trying to make me go back to Green- wich Village and take up the old life again, you were so effective, though you drMn’t understand.” “r while she told him of her childhood and of the fascinating little mother who had been an actress in one of Daly’s companies and had died when Nora was a little girl. She told of her father, a New England college professor, and that he had died soon after her mother, of a broken heart. “I was brought up by the aunt whose portrait you saw,”.Nora went on. “We lived in Framingham and 1 went to Miss Parsons’ school -there. It is a very well known school and girls go there from-all over the world. It was there that I first knew Inez Rutledge. “I knew her very well, for we were both - immensely interested in the pageants and amateur theatricals which were part of the course. I had always been a good mimic and T used to imitate our old maid-of-all-work, Rose Brady, so that Aunt Louise couldn’t tell which of us was speak- ing if she didn’t see us. It annoyed poor old auntie very much and she used to scold me about it. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I know now that she had a great aver- sion to the stage as a profession and was afraid that I'd follow. in my mother’s footsteps. ° \ 5 “Aunt Louise died two years after I graduated and left me all she had, poor dear, but on the condition that 1 should not go on the stage. I saw from that how keenly she felt about it. I would have respected her wishes in any case, I think. For- tunately, or unfortunately, I had an- other talent against which the New England consciénce hasn’t quite so much of a prejudice. I could draw pretty well and I loved it. We had an unusually good teacher in school and I had the right kind .of training from the start. So I took what little money I had and went to New York to study. “I found a cheap room in old Greenwich Village and in the studio of a fellow-student I met Vincent Quartley. She showed him the min- iature I had painted of Aunt Louise and he thought it promising and of- fered to get' me some commissions among his friends. That was early last winter. I thought I had enough money to go on then, not having had any experience of how much it costs to live in New York and I told him T'd like to wait until I had a little more training. Then, toward the| middle of the winter there was a terrible slump, I think you call it, in the stock market, and the dividends I should have had on January first didn’t come. I didg't tell any one but wrote to my aunt’s lawyers in Hart- ford. They wrote back -that the stock was good and would be sure to pay more dividends by spring; that I had better keep it and not worry.” She laughed a little sadly. “I asked Mr. Quartley, then, to get me some commissions if he could, but he didn’t know of my necessities and nothing came of it. Pretty soon my money was all gone and I didn’t know what to do. “One day, while riding in the street car, I heard two handsomely dressed women talking. They were rather common ,and spoke so loudly that I could hear almost every word. They were remarking upon the difficulty of getting servants and one of them said, ‘I pay my parlor maid fifty dol- lars a month and she has a good home and no expenses and still she isn't satisfied.” I didn’t hear any more. I knew that was one thing I could do and made up my mind then and there to be such a housemaid as had never been seen before on sea or land. It was the only decent and honest thing to do. It amused me to think how startled my prospective mistress would be at my perfections. I would make it a stage part, I said to myself, and I would play it as beautifully as it could be done. “1 saw an advertisement-for a par- lor maid and it gave the initials H. G. R. and the address, 20 East Six- tieth street. You know, from Miss MacLeod’s story, what happened. When I saw Inez I was so startled that I couldn’t speak. She took me into her room and I told her frank- ly all my troubles. She was kind and offered me money, but I wouldn't take it. “Since I wouldn't have help in any other way, she took me as a maid. I'm sure she meant to be kind, poor girl, but she had changed a good deal—or I had been too youns, when 1 first knew her, to realize the pos- sibilities of a nature like hers—and at last we had a bad quarrel over her miniature.” “You painted the one you gave me to take care of!” said Dick eagerly. “By Jove!—A clever piece of work!” “Yes, when I told her what my am- bitions were she gave me a commis- sion to paint one of her. She said she would pay me for it, which would have been a great help, and that she would show it to her friends and get me many orders. I was very happy about it and I worked on it all her free mornings. So, you see, when the awful tragedy occurred, I was simply swept off my feet and what had been rather a lark, though a necessary one, became serious enough. If the miniature had been found, I should have been obliged to tell everything to the police. I could see it all coming out in the papers; and what chance had I, in my real pro- fession, after that? Even Vincent Quartley, with all his friends, would have found it impossible to get com- missions for me, and he was my best hope. It was only the day before, you remember, that I met him in the park. It was quite by accident—I wouldn’t have seen him for the world —but we met face to face and I had to speak to him. He'd been so kind to me, and so understanding, that when he asked me why I had aisap- peared from Greenwich Village and what I was doing, I told him. I thought he would see it as a lark and sympathize with my clever idea of tiding things over. But he didn’t, not a bit. He was very stern about it; said he’d lend me all the money I needed.” ' Dick winced and Nora went on hurriedly: “Of course I wouldn't take it, and I told him that I couldn’t leave anyway, without giving notice; no decent servant would. That made him awfully mad, Dick, and he was insisting some more when you came up. In the face of everything it seemed suicidal to let it all come out in the papers. And the hideous notor- iety of it all! It seemed as if I could not bear it. * “And so you trusted the miniatures to me—a perfectly sensible idea,” said Dick. “You said that you and Mrs. Rutledge had a quarrel about the miniature. Why was that? Wasn't she pleased with it?” “Oh, yes. She was quite crazy about 1921. it to Mr. Cuthbert Pendleton. She was—well, Dick, she was pretty hor- rid about it; said she had me in her power, and more, rather &gly things. It didn’'t make any difference to me. I wouldn’t let her do so compromis- ing a thing if I could help jt. I know Mr. Pendleton was too vain and fool- ish not to show it and boast of it. So I took the miniature to my room and hid it in my trunk with that of Aunt Louise. When I went to get them to give to you, I wrapped them both in the paint rag—" “A paint rag!” interrupted Dick. “Good Lord! Then the red smear—" “Was paint, of course, you dear old goose!” Nora also said that when Dick had found her sobbing there in the woods near Altonville, Vincent Quartley had just asked her to marry him and she had refused—because she loved Dick, The moon lost sight of Nora just then and there was but one long shadow on the road. . x . CHAPTER VII. O’Malley Pulls Aside the Curtain. The next evening O’Malley sat quietly in his room. he green shad- ed electric light hanging above th table threw grotesque shadows upon walls and floor. It shone brightly on O'Malley’'s. enigmatic face and watchful Byes. Presently Peter Clancy opened the door softly. “All right, captain,” he whispered. A few moments later a loud knock startled the silence. % Again Clancy opened the door. “Mr. Schuyler is here Capt. O’'Malley,” he said in his ordinary manner. “May he come in and—" “Certainly. How do you do, Schuyler ?” “How are you, captain? Sorry to have been delayed. I've brought Miss ‘Wentworth with me, you sege. She insisted on coming—'"" Except for a slight paleness and a small plaster on the back of his head, Dick appeared none the worse for the accident of the preceding evening. Nora's face, also, had lost some of its color and she limped a little as she entered, leaning on Dick’s arm. “Miss Wentworth!” O’Malley rose from his seat. “Ah, I ‘understand. He's found you out, too, has he?” The captain’s face was grave. He motioned them both to be seated and resumed his chadir. Peter remained in the shadows near the door. “I asked Clancy to bring you here, Mr. Schuyler,” O'Malley began, lean- ing both elbows on the table in front of him and looking hard at Dick, “for several important reasons. First of all,” he wagged a threatening fore- finger, “I want to know what- you were doing in the hall of the Rut- ledge house on the night and at about the time that Mrs. Rutledge was mur- dered?” Nora drew in her breath sharply and glanced anxiously at Dick. His face was imperturbable and he an- swered quietly: “I don’t know why you think— “I don’t think, I know,” O’Malley rapped out angrily. “We've got the goods on 'you, all right. Look here, if you don’t believe me.” With a quick motion of his hand he lifted the cover from a box which stood at his elbow and=tfirned the contents out on the table. “Oh, my Lord! Those infernal shoes again!” groaned Dick. “Isn’t it the limit 2" “You admit that they're yours, then?” questioned O’Malley, sharply. “Oh, thunder, yes! They’re mine, all right.” Peter leaned férward with anxious interest and, O'Malley’s eyes never left Dick’s face while he told-the tale of his migadventures. . “That'’s all very well, Mr. Schuyler,” he said when Dick had finished, “but if youre as innocent as all this amounts to, why not have told us at once?” “He was shielding me!” cried Nora, breathlessly “What!” O’Malley wheeled side- wise in his chair and regarded the girl sternly. “So youwre mixed up in it, too?” “Oh, Capt. O'Malley, Mr. Schuyler is perfectly innocent and so am I, but 1 did a very foolish thing on that dreadful morning! I had something of my very own that I didn’t want any one to see, so I gave it to Mr. Schuyler to take care of for me—" “And as I had it in my pocket when ycu came,” Dick interrupted, “it cramped my style a little; don’t you see? “H-m-m,” said O’Malley non-com- mitally, fixing Nora with his light blue eyes; “‘what was it that you gave him?” “I'm not really a servant,” the girl began deprecatingly. “I'm—" “Miniature painter, by profession,” rejoined O’Malley, crisply. “Yes, we know all about that and about how you came to know Mrs. Rutledge.” “It was a package containing two of Miss Wentworth’s miniatures,” sald Dick abruptly, not liking O’Mal- ley’s tone. “We had made up our minds to tell you the whole story when we came here tonight. That is why Miss Wentworth insisted on coming with me. We both acted on impulse, and foolishly, I admit it. But—" “Capt. O’Malley!” from the shadows and warning finger. There was the sound of a light foot- fall on the landing, followed imme- diately by a clear, purposeful knock on the door. Peter, who was stand- ing close by. opened it and admitted Hammond Rutledge. “How are you, Clancy? ning, Capt. O'Malley.” Rutledge came swiftly forward with long, even strides. Peter, hav- ing acknowledge the greeting, unos- tentatiously disappeared. “Very good of you to come, Mr. Rutledge,” said O'Malley, gravely. “You know Miss Wentworth, though her name may be unfamiliar.” With a puzzled frown Rutledge looked from the old man to the girl and bowed slightly. “I'll tell you about O'Malley went on. Schuyler?” “I haven't that pleasure and I'm very glad of this opportunity of mak- ing his acquaintince,” said Hammond Rutledge, holding out his hand. Capt. O’Malley looked steadily from one serious face to the other. Then Mr. Peter started held up a Good eve- that late: “D* you know Mr. | [CUTICURA HEALS LARGE PIMPLES OnSister’sFace. Hardand Red. ltched Badly. Face Very Disfigured. “‘My sister had Iarge pimples on her face. They were hard and red and itched so badly that she scratchedthem, leav- LET *r' ment for Cuticura Soap and Ointment and sent for a free sample. I bought more, and after using two cakes of Soap and two boxes of Ointment she was com- pletely bealed.” (Signed) Miss Bertha Roy, St., Bridgewater, Mass., Aug. 6, 1920. 'Use Cuticura for alltoilet purposes. Sale Each Free by Mail. Address: “Owtieurs Lab- oratories, e - - ‘where. Soap. '"oi-u-u:;éo-‘a-ng. %"-u;?.: — Wwe wish to know. The case is plete.” Rutledge started forward in chair. “You mean—" he exclaimed. O'Malley nodded slowly, once, com- his he said slowly: “I'm going to ask you and Miss Wentworthk to remain for a little while. Please be seated, and vou, too, Mr. Rutledge.” He dropped heavily into his chair. “Ne, Mr. twice, thrice. “We have found the criminal who murdered your wife,” he said. “Pendleton!” cried Rutledge, leap- ing to his feet. ‘“Where is he? Tell me! Is he in there?” pointing t» the closely drawn curtains at the end of the room. He started toward them, but O'Mal- ley intercepted him. “Hold hard, Mr. Rutledge!” he exclaimed warningly, and caught his arm. “Wait!"” But the younger man shook him off with flerce determination. “If he’s in there, I'll have him if the whole po- lice force try té stop me. I_warn you, O’Malley. I've a long account to settle with him. Stand out of the way!” The old captain did not flinch. “Yowll not pass me till I'm ready, Mr. Rutledge,” he said. (Contniued in Tomorrow's Herald.) HACEYS TO RAISE 31,000,000 FUND Will Be Used for American Weliare Work in Ialy San Francisco, Aug. 4.—At the re- quest of Pope Benedict, XV, the Knights of Columbus have decided to raise $1,000,000 to inaugurate Ameri- can welfare in Italy, it was announc- ed at the international Knights ot Columbus annua] convention here to- day. The fund will be raised by pop- ular subscription among the member- ship of the order. “Pope Benedict has requested thit activity on the part of the Knighta of Columbus to conserve and aid in the mental and physical developmen: of Italian youth,’ said Supreme Advo- cate Joseph C. Pelletier, of Boston. “It is our aim to go intc Italy and in- troduce American welfare work, to repay Italy in part, the debt laid upon America when Columbus, the great Ttalian, found this western world, and made it possible for Christendom to extend its sphere.” Mr. Pelletier addea that it was im- probable that the Knighta of Colum- bus would extend its organization proper into Italy, saying that the im- mediate plans called for the estab- lishment of an American servica cen- ter in Rome under the patronage of Pope Benedict. Supreme Knight James A. Flaherty, announced that Peter Krantsze of Chicago, counsel at Luxembourg had telegraphed the first donation, $5,000. The closing session of the conven- tion today, Mr. Pelletier added, will disposa of internatiwnal activitiea for the ensuing 12 months and would con- sider the Irish question. OFFERS PEACE TERMS Moroccan Chicftain Only Wants to ba Made Grand Mogul as His Fee. Madrid, Aug. 4. — Raisuli, former outlaw leader and chieftain of rebel- lious tribesmen in Morocco, ia report- ed to have made an offer to Spain to pacify the entire Spanish zone in Morocco on condition that he be ap- pointed caliph and sultan of the ter- ritory in question. There have been reports that the town of Nador, south of Melilla, has been evacuated by Spanish troops and occupied by Moroccan rebels, but it is declared in official circles that there is né confirmation of these rumors An official statement issued last night declares fires continue at Nador. The Moors are again bombarding Mount Arruit, and Gen. Navarro is said to have sent word to his superior officers that he hopes to defend his position it reinforcements arrive without delay. POCAHONTAS READY TO SAIL. Naples, Aug. 4.—The American steamer Pocahontas which arrived here on July 4 in a damaged condition alleg- ed to have been due to the acts of mem- bers of her crew was scheduled to sail for New York today. The ship was re- paired following her arrival, and debts were contracted. The creditors yester- day asked that the steamer be held in port until their claims were settled. Ask Fe F “ Ze Horlick's -The ORIGINAL Malted Milk A Scene Of Wild Excitement FRANTIC AND FURIOUS BUYING. THEY CAME, NOT IN HUNDREDS, BUT THOUSANDS. GOODS POUR OUT, CROWDS FOUR IN. WHY? ONLY ONE ANSWER: THEY GOT Real Bargains DON'T MISS IT. A LOT OF RED HOT SPECIALS For Friday AT THE GREATEST PRICE CUTTING EVENT EVER STAGED IN THIS VICINITY. NEW BRITAIN |. CLOTHING & DRY GOODS 0., Inc. 381—383 MAIN ST.