New Britain Herald Newspaper, August 13, 1921, Page 4

{OLDING A HUSBAND Adele Garrison’ s New Phase of Revelations of a Wife The Way Dicky Accepted Madge’s Letter. When Dicky held out his hand for the letter I had written Grace Draper I felt as it my body was one tensely coiled spring ready to snap at the slightest touch. If he had criticised its wording or its spirit in any parti- cular+ I do not know in what ner cous excesss of temper I might have indulged. For my action in bringing the girl as a model back into Dicky's Mife in order to save his professional reputation had strained my nerves almost to the breaking point. How much my husband surmised of this I do not know, I watched his face closely as he read, and while he bit his lip at one moment—whether in amusement or chagrin, I do not know—he gave no hint of disap- proval, and handed the xvhen he had finished it, with a single comment: “Very good, Eddie!” he said flip- ; pantly, and I saw tnat for Dicky life ;had slipped back into its careless, mnahle broad higaway from which ! Marsden’s letter had jolted him. I /had shown him a way out of his ldilemma, and in characteristic fash- "don he had shifted responsibility to Rod shoulders—sub-consciously, no ! doubt, but nevertheless completely. ™ “That's settled, then,” he said with & sigh of satisfaction, idly watching | me as I methodically sealed the let- !ter ana placed it mside the other e !velope addressed to Linda Sheliford cousin. When I had sealed that also, \T handed it back to Dicky with a iqueer little feeling that I would like to wash my hands of it, and the | possible consequences its sending {mrould entall. He consulted his watch possible mail out oclock,” ht said. imtlong and let's plan my studdo.’ Madge’s Self-Analysis. ‘He was as blithely irresponsible as \#f he were not still in the shadow of Ill"llrl, as I did, how precarious were ‘hds chances to saisfying Pennington {wath tllustrations having Grace | Draper as the model for the heroine. ! For he had not seen the girl since | her release from prison, and though he had once made a careless refer- ‘ence to the effect prison 1life must ! have had upon her beauty, I know :that he had no real idea of the rav- ! ages suffering had made. That Dicky iwas counted unusual in his tech- mique, especially in. what Alfred Durkee called ‘“trick juggling,” I bad heard many times, and was sure that if any omne could turn defeat of There “So come corncrib into victory he could. - But I feared his almost certain disappointment when he should see Grace Draper. Or——did I fear it? I asked the question of myself 'brutally, trying to probe the depths of my own lit- tleness. Was I not secretly, subcon- sciously rejoicing in the fact that when my husband should again sce the girl who had wrought such havoc in our lives, he would be forced to: admit that she no longer owned the wonderful alluring beauty which al most had swayed him from his al- legiancg to me How far he had been drawn away from me I never had known, never should know—as always when I think of Grace Draper there sound in my ears the old faint, mocking icry she had uttered when 'pre(@nding delirium while desperate- letter bmk‘x i “What's Up?” “You never will know, will vou, Mage, dear, just how much is false and how much true of what I have been saying?"” But I know that no matter what my secret or open, conscious or sub- conscious attitude toward the change in the girl might be, I must hold my tongue about it to Dicky. If J should try to warn him he might think that I had repented of my decision to send the invitation to her. But, on the other hand, would he not blame me if I permitted him to meet her unprepared for the change in her? Dicky's voice jolted me out of my introspection. “If you'll just kindly write me down your astral address, old dear.” he gibed, “I'll try to reach you by special delivery or long-distance telephone. But I haven't the slight- est idea to which quarter of the mental globe you have retired.” I laughed while I racked my brain for a misleading answer. “I was just wondering if this struc- ture were not too near the house for your undigturbed wcomfort,” T stammered. He looked at me keenly, and a quizzical smile curved the corners of his mouth. “Pretty nifty foot work, nld dear,” he said, “but we'll let it go at that. Far be it from me to pry into your soul, no knowing what I might find. What did you say? Oh! The loca- tion of the studio. No, it isn't too near, as I shall have the door cut through this side. next the orchard, and close up the side next the housa. Then I'll—What's up?” For his eyes had followed mine to the figure of my father walking rapidly up the path toward us. T Sl NS I Ifll" Llll r": = Unless otherwive noted, bureaus !l“pm“i? - u\‘ Sy A o these notices are written by the press of the theater or attractions with which they deal FAMOUS DANCER AT PALACE. pletely, however, through the news that On next Monday and Tuesday the Palace will present as the {feature Keith vaudeville offering, Max Ford, famous the country over as the best dancer on the stage, and late of the famous Four Dancing Fords. He will offer a nifty song and dance offering, assisted by Mile. Victoire and Co. Many changes of elaborate wardrobe and special scenery will brighten this clever act. Ab a special atraction on the same bill, the management has been very lucky in securing the Keith favorites, Bryant and Stewart, guar- ~anteed laughmakers. Other acts in- clude Eugene & Finney in a novel offering; and Cronin and Hart, in an up-to-date singing ‘and piano offering. The feature photoplay the first part of the week presents dainty Constance Talmadge in the newest of her photo- plays, “Mamma’'s Affair,” a comedy drama that will please all. —_— ; KENNETH HARLAN AT LYCEUM. ‘‘Love, Honor and Obey'' a screen adaptation by FEugene Walters, of Charles Neville Bucks successful novel, i 48 announced to,appear at the Lyceum for three days, commencing Monday. ‘The all star cast will include Claire ‘Whitey, Wilda Bennett, Kenneth Har- lan and George Cowl. ‘‘Love, Honor and Obey’’ tells the story of a New England girl who marries a wealthy church deacon to please her father. when she really loves a New York nov- elist whose liberal views have created & scandal in her Puritanical comr.un- | tty. She has broken with him com- Te is named as co-respondent in a sen- sational divorce. = When she learns through the divorce that he is innocent and that she has been tricked into mar- riage, she bolts the door of her bridal chamber against' her husband. This situation only lays the foundation for a dramatic conflict on the theme . ot whether she should seek her happiness where she feels there is true love. The vaudeville program will consist of the following vaudeville acts: The Bohem- ian Trio, three boys in a 'novel comeay act; the Homer sisters, in a singing and dancing act; Billy Barlow, well known comedian; Long and Dixie, two clever entertainers, and Leonard and Smythe, a dancing team. For this Sunday eve- ning another big double feature pros gram has been arranged. ““Miss Hobb's"” a five reel feature, based on nature study; also ‘‘The Blue Pearl,” which has many thrills. Topics of the day, Aesop’s Fables and Charles Chap- lin will complete the Sunday evening program. SUNDAY AT THE PALACE. Two very fine photoplays will fea- ture the Sunday program at the Pal- ace, “God's Country and the Woman," by James Oliver Curwood will be the star attraction and the other is Mau- rice Tourneur’s, “My Lady’s Garter,” a fescinating story of comedy and romance. A new episode of “The Purple Riders,” and other short sub- jects: complete the bill. = e —— Sunday Night—Excellent Features James Oliver Curwood’s “GOD’S COUNTRY AND THE WOMAN.” Maurice Tourneur’s “MY LADY’S GARTER.” Monday—Tuesday—Wednesday KEITH VAUDEVILLE — Featuring — MAX FORD Of the Famous Four Dancing Fords. — and — MILLE. VICTOIRE CO. Exra-BRYANT & STEWART-Extr Guaranteed Laugh Makers, Other Fine Acts. ,ngSTApICE TALMADGE in “Mamma’s Affair.” NEW BRITAIN DAILY HERALD, SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, “THE DUKE OF CHIMNEY BUTTE” By G. W. OGDEN The Romance of a Chivalrous Adventurer in the Lawless West. (Copyright, 1920, A. / (Continued from Yesterday's Herald.) Jim Wider, a cowboy who is not too popular on the range,. thinking that Jeremiah Lambert. a peddler, who rode into camp on a bicycle, waa a. green tenderfoot, offered him his own horse, whicn was somewhat of an outlaw, it he could ride it. Lam- bert, who formerly broke range horses for a living at the Chicago stock yards, rode the animal without diffi- culty, whereupon Wilder, who waa only bluffing, attempted to take back his horse. In the fignt which ensued, Lambert is cut. but not seriously, with a knife wielded by Wilder. The lat- ter's knife is taken from him by a cowboy named Spence, who in turn is shot by Wilder, who fleea from camp. Lambert gave chase, returning at dusk leading Wilder's horse. There was blood on the empty saddle. Lambert, now known as “The Duke of Chimney Butte,” makes a new record in the little town by racing his horse against the fiyer, overtak- ing the train long enough to receive a handkerchief tossed him from the observation platform of the Pullman car. Later he starts out in search of the girl of the hanagerchief, in com- pany with a cowboy named Taterleg. The men arrive in Glendora, where The Duke expects to find that Miss Vésta Philbrook, whose father had died a few weekh before is the girl of tha handkerchief. They find Misas Vesta is not tRe girl they ara seeking “but are in time to come to her rescue as she is attacked by two jVesta tells Duke that neighboring rénchers take exceptions to her fences and cut them just as fast as she can repair them. Duke and Taterleg of- fer to work for her and put a stop to this practice if they can. A ranch- er named Kerr Is the worst offender. One night Duke finds the fence cut and a note fastened to the wirea which reads: “Why don’t you coma and get me Duke?” He vowed he would. He did. He gave chase the next time he saw someone cutting the fence and was astonished to find— not-a cowboy but Kerr's daughter, who turned out to be the girl of the Pullman. He makes a truce with her. Lambert is caught in the trap and beicome the prisoner of K@rr and severa] others. He is turned loose with a warning to clear out of tN¥ country, but bolts and gets back to the Philbrook ranch. Vesfa tells Duke she is going to leave the coun- try in order to end the trouble and strife. Duke takes charge of the ranch while she is gone and pro- poses to raise sheep instead of cat- tle. That night he rides out to keep a rendezvous with Grace Kerr. He is very much surprised when Grace asks him to lend her 500 head of Miss Philbrook’s cattle. for one day only. He learns later that Kerr has mortgaged 500 head of cattle more than he owns and that there is a warrant out fof his arrest. Lambert ia sworn in as a deputy by the sheriff to help arest Kerr: Kerr evades the sheriff while Lambert is led into am- bush by Grace who shoots his horses and rides off with a mocking laugh. Several weeks later Lambert goes to Chicago with a carload of cattla to sell for Vesta. Still abstracted, he drew out this paper, wondering curiously when he had put it there and forgotten it. It was the warrant for the arrest of Berry Kerr. He remembered now having folded the paper and put it there the day the sheriff gave it to him, never having read a word of it from that day to this. Now he repaired that omission. It gave him quite a feeling of im- portance to have a paper about him with that severe legal phraseology in it. He folded it and put it back in his pocket, wondering what had be- come of Berry Kerr. Then he fell to thinking of busi- ness, and what was best for Vesta's interests, and of how he probably take up Pat Sullivan’s offer for the calves, thus cleaning up her troubles and making an end of her expenses. And so, pounding along mile after mile through the vast green land where the bread of a nation grew, arriving at midnight among squeals and moans, trembling bleat of sheep, pitiful, hungry crying of calves, high, lonesome tenor notes of bewildered steers. That was the end of the journey for him, the beginning of the great adventure for the creatures under his care. By 11 o'clock next morning, Lam- bert had a check for the cattle in his pocket, and bay rum on his face where the dust, the cinders and the beard had been but a little while be- fore. He bough* a little hand satchel in a second-hand store to carry the money home in, cashed his check and took a turn looking around, his big gun on his leg, his high-heeled boots making him toddle along in a rather ridiculous gait for an able-bodied cow-puncher from the Bad Lands. There was a train for home at 6, that same flier he once had raced. There would be time enough for a man to look into the progress of the fine arts as represented in the pawn- shop windows of the stockyards neighborhood. before striking a line for the Union station to nail down a seat in the flier. It was while en- gaged in this elevating pursuit that Lambert glimpsed for an instant in the passing stream of people a figure that made him start with the prickling alertness of recognition. He had caught but a flash of the hurrying figure but, with that eye for singling a certain object from a mov- ing mass that experience with cattle sharpens, he recognized the carriage of the head, the set of the shoulders. He hurried after, overtaking the man as he was entering a hotel. “Mr. Kerr, I've a warrant for you,” he said, detaining the fugitive with a hand on his shoulder. Kerr was taken so unexpectedly that he had no chance to sling a gun, even if ‘e carried one. He was com- pletely changed in appearance, even to the macrifice of his prized beard, so C. McClurg & Co.) Bad Lands. He was dressed in the city fashion, with a little straw hat in Place of the eighteen inch sombrero that he had worn for years. Confi- dent of the disguise, he affected as- tonished indignation. ‘l guess you've made a mistake in your man.” said he. Lambert told him with polite firm- ness that there was no mistake. “I'd know your vpice in the dark— T've got reason to remember it he said. He got the warrant out with one hand, keeping the other comfortably near his gun, he little handbag with its riches betweew. his feet. He kept Kerr within reaching distance, flashed the warrant before his eyes, passed it up and down in front of his nose and put it away again. *“There’s no mistake, not by a thou- sand miles. You'll come along back to Glendora with me.” A policeman appeared by this time and Kerr appealed to him, protesting mistaken identity. To forestall the Policeman’s decision, which he could see forming behind his clouded countenance, Lambert said: There’s a reward of nine hundred dollars standing for this man. It you've got any doubt of who he is, or my right to arrest him, take us both to headquarters.” That seemed to be a worthy sugges- tion to the officer. He acted on it without more drain ot his intellectual reserve. There, after a little course of sprouts by the chief of detectives, Kerr admitted his identity, but re- fused to leave the state without re- quisition. They locked him up, and Lambert telegraphed the sheriff for the necessary papers. Going home was off for perhaps several days. Lambert gave his little satchel to the police to lock in the safe. The sheriff’s reply came back like a pitched ball. Hold Kerr, he requested the polic requisition would be made for him. He instruct- ed Lambert to wait till the papers came, and bring the fugitive home. He would meet ghem at the station. *. . Thw stepped off the train almost directly in fron of the waiting room door. There was hobody in sight but the postmaster with the mail sack, the station agent, and the few citi- zerjs who always stood around the sta- tion for the thrill of seeing the flier stap to take water. Few, if any, of these recognized Kerr as Lambert hurried across the platform and into tthe station, his plaform and into the station. Kerr held back for one look up and down the station platform, then stumbled hastily ahead under the force of Lambert's hand. The door of the telegraph office stood open; Lambert pushed his prisoner within and closed it. The station agent came in as the train pulled away, and Lambert made inquiry of him concerning the sheriff. The agent had not seen him there that day. He stood in front of his chattering insruments in the bow win- dow, looking up and down the plat- form with anxious face out of which his natural human color had gone, leaving even his lips white. “They're layin’ for you out there,” he whispered. “I kind of expected they would be,” Lambert told him. "’rhey re liable to cut loose any min- utte,” said he agent, “and I tell you Duke, I've got a wife and children de- pendin’ on me!" “I'll take him outside. I didn’t in- tend to stay here only a minute. Here, lock this satchel up. It be- longs to Vesta Philbrook. If I have to go with the sheriff, or anything, send her word it's here.” It was unaccountable that the sheriff was not there to relieve him of thig responsibility. Lambert cast about him for some means of secur- ing his man in such manner that he could watch him and defend against any attempted rescues without being hampered. A telegraph pols stocd beside the platform some sixty or seventy feet from the depot, the wires slanting down into the building’s gable end. To this Lambert marched his prisoner the eyes of the town on him. He treed one of Kerr's hands, passed his arms around the pole so he stood embracing it, and locked him there. He laid out a little beat up and down the platform at Kerr's back, rolled a cigarette, settled down to wait for the sheriff, the train, the rush of Kerr's friends, or whatever the day might have in store. Lambert did not see any of Kerr's’ men about. Five horses were hitched in front of the saloon; now and .then he could see the top of a hat above the latticed half-door, but nobody entered, nobody left. He knew that some of them, if not all, were there. Two appeared far down the road, riding for Glendora in a swinging gallop. The sheriff, Lambert thought, missed the train, and had ridden the forty and more miles across. No, one was Grace Kerr. Even at a quarter of a mile he never could mistake her again. The other was Sim Hargus. They had miscalculated in their in- tention of meeting the train., and were coming in a panic of anxiety. They dismounted at the hotel, and started ncross. Lambert moved a lit- tle nearer his - prisoner, where he stood waiting. As Hargus and Grace advanced, coming in the haste and heat of in- dignation that Kerr's humiliatizg sit- uation inflamed, two men left the saloon. They stopped at the hitch- ing rack as If debating whether to tnke their hor:es and so stood, watch- 1ng the progress of the two who were entting the long diagnol across the road. When Grace, who came a little ahead of her companion in her eager- ness was within thirty feet of him, Lamber: litted his hand in forbidding signal. op there.” he raid. She halted, her face flaming with fury. 1largus stopped beside her, his arms cvcoked to bLring his hand up to his belt, sawing Lack and forth as - between drawink his 1921, DAILY FASCHION SERVICE LITTLE GIRL’S COATS MUST HAVE FUR COLLAR BY MARIAN HALE New York, Aug. 12.—Coats for the little girls! It may be a hard cold winter, but what matter to the tiny miss who will go forth clad in warm, fine raiment and in the very latest fashion. She can have her choice of collars, ranging from dark browns to bright hennas, or black to bright jade-green. But she must have a fur collar to be really ‘‘vogue.’ The simple lines are always smart for children. One attractive coat for a nine-year- old by Matthews & Taylor is of ®rra tta duvet de laine with a belt. A fiassum collar may be worn as a chok- er or laid flat. Another box coat sports a possum collar on its light brown duvet de laine. Just to satisfy the dressy child, a more elaborate coat of blue-green Bo- livia has a deep yoke effect on sleeve and garment. There is, too, the deep bell cuff. With this a combination of light and dark fur forms the high collar. sun and waiting for the wordy pre- liminaries to pass. At the hitching rack the two men— one of them Tom Hargus, the other unknown—stood beside their horses, as if in position according to a previ- ous plan. “We want that man,” said Hargus, his hand hovering over his gun. “Come and take him,” Lambert in- vited. Hargus spoke in a low voice to Grace; she turned and ran toward her horse. The two at the hitching rack swung into their saddles as Hargus, watching Grace over his shoulder as she sped away, began to back off, his hand stealing to his gun as if moved by some slow, precise machinery which was set to time it according to the fleeing girl's speed. Lambert stocd without shifting a foot, his nostrils dilating in the slow, deep breath that he drew. Yard by yard Hargus drew away, his inten- tion not quite clear, as if he watched his chance to break away like a pris- oner. Grace was in front of the hotel door when he snapped his revolver from its sheath. Lambert had been waiting this. He fired betore hargus touched the trig- ger, his elbew to his side. Hargus spun on his heel as if he had been roped, spread his arms, his gun falling from his hand; pitched to his face, lay still. The two on horses galloped out and opened fire. Lambert shifted to keep them guessing, but kept away from the pole where Kerr was chained, behind which he might have found shelter. They had separated to flank him, Tom Hargus over near the corndr of the depot, the other ranging down toward the hotel, not more than fifty yards tetween Lambert and either of them. Intent on drawing Tom Hargus from the shelter of the depot, Lam- bert ran along the platform, stepping well beyond Kerr. Until that mo- ment he had not returned their fire. Now he opened on Tom Hargus, bringing his horse down at the third shot, swung about and emptied his first gun ineffctually at the other man. This fellow charged down on him as Lambert drew his other gun, Tom Hargus, free of his .fallen horse, shooting from the shelter of the rain barrel at the corner of the depot. Lambert felt something strike his left arm, with no more apparent force, no more pain, than the flip of a branch when one rides through the woods. But it swung useless at his side. Through the smoke of his own gun, and the dust raised by the man on horseback, Lambert had a flash of Grace Kerr riding across the middle background between him and the saloon. He had no thought of her in- tention. It was not a moment for speculation with the bullets hitting his hat. The man on horseback had come within ten yards of him. Lambert could see his teeth as he drew his lips when he fired. Lambert centered his attention on this stranger, dark, meager-faced, marked by the unmis- takable Mexican taint. His hat flew off at Lambert's first shot as if it had been jerked by a string; at his second, the fellow threw himself back In the saddle with a jerk. He fell limply over the high cantle and lay thus a moment, his frantic horse running wildly away. Lambert saw him tumble into the road as a man came spurring past the hotel, slinging his gun as he rode. (To be concluded Monday.) Oriental Crearm HY-GEN-OL (Ichthyolate Tooth FPaste) A rapid cleaning preparation of su- perior merit. Its usc insures proper mouth hygiene. Dickinson Drug Company O NEW BRITAIN BIRD STORE ALIVE OR .FRESH KILLED BROILERS AND FOWLS Also the well known Purina Chicken Chowder, Scratch, Chick and Pigcon All Sorts of Fishing Tacklo 105 ARCR ST Fel 1121-3 BY ARTHUR SCOTF* BAILEY: A BUNDLE OF CLOTHES. Old dog Spot was trotting down the road with the bundle of clothes in his mouth—the clothes which be- longed to Johnnie Green’s friend Red, who was one of the swimming party in the mill pond. Somewhat to Spots surprise the boys had not come tearing down thé road after him. “It's queer,” he said to himself. “I wonder why they don't follow me. This would be fun if they'd only chase me.” Just then he happened to spy a Just then he happened to spy e squirrel or a stone wall squirrel on a stone wall. Spot prompt- ly made for this gentleman. Keeping a firm hold on his burden, he plungea through a tangle of blackberry bushes that grew beside the road. The thorny brambles caught Spot’s bundle and held it fast. “Gr-r-r-r!” he growled. “I don't want to lose sight of that fat fellow. Unless I's mistaken, it was Frisky Squirrel, and I've had an eye out for him for a long time.” After a few frantic tugs he let go of the bundle of clothes and dashed after the squirrel. It was Frisky Squirrel. He ran up a tree while Spot was struggling in the blackberry thicket. And he scampered from one trece top to another while Spot followed beneath him, barking furiously. At last Frisky stopped and sat on a limb, to chatter and scold at old dog Spot. “What are you doing so far from home?” he demanded after a while. “I've been swimming in the mill pond with the boys,” said old dog Spot. ““Then you'd better go back there at once, unless you want a punishinz later,” Frisky Squirrel told him. *1 can hear them, whistling for you.” It wasn’t for from the mill pond— that place where they were talking, for Spot's chase of Frisky Squirrel had led him back up the hili again. Now Spot cockpd an ear in the direc- tion of the pond and listened. Sure enough! He could hear Johnnie Green's. whistle. “I'll see you again,” he told Frisky Squirrel. . “Not if I see you first!” Frisky muttered as old dog Spot started through the wood for the mill pond. “Come here!” Johnnie Green greet- ed him sternly when, a few minutes later, he appeared on the. bank. “Where are those clothes that you took?” - Spot wagged his tail. He acted very, very friendly. Nobody would have supposed, from his looks, that he had stolen anyone's clothes. “This is no joke,” Johnnie Green declared. “I haven't anything to wear. Get those clothes and bring them back here.” “I don’t know swhat's the mstter with Johnnie,” Spot thought. didn’'t touch his things. I don't see why he’s so angry. “Good old Spot,” Johnnie coaxed. “Find the clothes! There's a good fel- low!” He waded toward the bank and snapped Bis fingers at Spot. The old dog edged away. Johnnie talked pleasantly enough. But he had a queer look in his eye. Spot thought it safer to keep out of his clutches. Just then the miller came driving up the hill on a load of corn. When he saw the boys in the pond he stopped his, horses. “Anybody here lest any clothes?" he asked, holding up in hl.s hmd. the bundle. I fo at D ¥ of the road. I noticed them hanging on a blackberry bush.” “I'l take ’'em! Johnnie cried. “They belong to Red. you can leave them with me.” The miller tossed the bundle him. The boy Red, wearing Johnnie's clothes, was watching everything that , went on, from behind a tree. He~ waited until Johnnie had untied the hard, wet knots in the clothes. Then he stepped out from his hiding place. “Let's swap!” he said. And while they were swapping, old dog Spot took a swim in the mill pond. Somehow he felt that all was well again. (Copyright 1921 by the Metro- politan Newspaper Service.) | . Green But to- SUNDAY BAND CONCERT. Philharnionic Band Will Play a: Wi nut Hill Park in Evening. The Philharmonic band will render the foilowing concert at Walnut Hill , park tomorrow evening at 8 o'clock. Opening “America” March—"Stars lnd St‘rlpu For- Special Request L‘Bright Eves’. )lbtflfl & Jerome Moonlight™ Conrad “My Mammy’ Donaldson Selection from “Little Johnny Jones™ ... Cohan Main Street (new). Sherwood & DeVoll 2. “There's Only One Pal After Al Klickman ¢, “Pucker Up and Dhistle”. .Fisher A Romantic Irish Opera “Eileen” * Herbert d. “Sighing Just For You' Klickmann g. h. “Love Bird” Selection—"The Sunny BSouth™ Lampe Finale—"Columbia’s Call”’ Bob vaan During this concert, the band will render. “A Hunting Seene,"—Bolis— ¢ iao. (by request.) £ Edw. Lynch, Director. & SHERIFF LOSES LIQUOR. ’ New Milford, Aug. 13—Deputy Sher- iff Frank J. Hosford reported to federal authorities in Hartford yesterday t! two' barrels pf alcohol stized by hi from a truckload of ferniture two weeks ago and put in the cellar of his home for safe-keeping had disappeared. l/ceh PHE A TRE —Now Playing — MAY ALLISON s ‘The Last Card’ VAUDEVILLE FEATURING BETTY’'S BACK KEYSTONE COMEDY FOUR BILLY ROBINS GEO. & LILLIAN VAN DALE SISTERS GORDON & PAYTON - — Coming — BROADWAY ECHOES T —TODAY—CONTINUOUS— STEP LIVELY A Dance Cycle With MILDRED ROGERS Bryant & Stewart; Rogers. dleton & Rock; Maric Jllpfl. Herbert & Dare. ROBERT WARWICK n “THE TREE OF ENOWLFDGE™ With Wanda Hawiley, s Williame, Yrvig Cummings, o