New Britain Herald Newspaper, May 3, 1927, Page 14

Love’s Beginning Badge Plans to Visit the Charming Young Foreign Girl. T always have flattered myself that I am free from-the vice of idle ouriosity, but I could lay no such umetion to my soul when Mra. Ticer made another reference to her new employer, Miss Lincoln, with her 0dd, imperious ways, and her un- abashed interest in Noel Veritzen. Our encounter earlier in the day with the young woman’s uncle, the lessee of ,The Larches, who had come for water and had been dub- bed a Transylvanian by Katle, had stimulated my interest in the family because of their nationality, which had been much exploited in our newspapers when the royal family of the country had visited the United States but a few weeks be- fore. Mre. Ticer's racy description of the odd family with which she, her husband and son had taken service for the summer, had increased my interest to such a pitch that I blushed for my answer to Mrs. Ticer, even though it signified only what I normally would have done in the case of any family taking The Larches, the nearest country place, not a tenant farmhouse, on the road to the village. “She must be & very interesting young woman,” I sald. “Of course, we must call upon them—or do you think they would resent it—perhaps they do not care to make acquain- tance in the neighborhood.” “Oh! I think they'd love t,” Mrs. Ticer rejoined, obviously pleased. “I don’t mean that they'd care to mix with everybody—they're awful- ly high-falutin’, but I've told 'em all about you.” (Her volce intimated that she had given us social kinship to the Prince of Wales.) “And Miss Lincoln seemed awfully interested, especially when I told her that you had something to with writing for @ theater or something like that. I #'pose she's like all the girls, crazy 1o be an actress. But do you know, she says to me, ‘I wonder if they'll | call?’ Just like that she sald it, kind of wishful like. Don’t you suppose you could drive over tmorrow aft- ernoon and just sort of welcome 'em to the neighborhood like? She’s an awful stuck-up piece part of the time, but you can't help liking her just the same. And I don’t believe Old Man Coyote is Answered BY THORNTON W. BURGESS A voice that's unexpected will The heart with deep emotion thrill. —O0ld Man Coyote. Never will the little people of the Green Forest and the Green Mea- dows forget the coming of the cir- cus to the Green Mecadows. All that first day they kept afar, for never Nad they seen so many people as came all day long and even in the evening to the great tent. But after the people had gone, and only those | Wwho belonged with the circus re- mained, and those were for the most part quiet, some of the little pcople ‘of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest drew near. There were strange odors on the night breeze, | animal odors, and it was known that | there were many furred and feather- | o4 folk in one of the big tents. Old Man Coyote, coming down from the | Old Pasture and circling about un- | easily, but stealthily at a short dis- tance from the animal tent, contin- | Bally sniffed those strange odors. Bome were more or less familiar, but | ‘others were wholly strange and gave | Bim a feeling of uneasiness. He | (wanted to run away and he wanted Yo stay. While his nose brought him these strange odors, his ears brought 0 him strangé sounds. It was all very exciting and at the same time fearsome. Finally Old Man Coyote sat down and polnted his nose at the moon, opened his mouth and sent that MAtrange cry of his, which sounds as | it made by many tongues instead of | gne, ringing across the Green Mea- | dows, back to the Old Pasture, and | Wp to the Great Mountain. Twice Old Man Coyote howled. And then He received an answer. He couldn't | believe his own ears. A long time ! lhld he been Ling there and many, | Tany times had he howled at the moon, but never once had he receiv- | ed a reply. But now another Coyote had replied. The reply had come from one of those tents. It was a| Mttle muffled, but that it was the| voice of a Coyote there could be no | doubt. | Old Man Coyote was almost be- | side himself with excitement. Again | he pointed his sharp nose to moon | and howled as only he can howl | Then he listened. The reply came | instantly. Poor Old Man Coyote! | Until now he had not realized how | lonely he was. No, sir, he had not realized it. But hearing that voice —the voice of his own kind—set his heart longing for company. | He stole nearer to/the tent. Un- easily he paced back and forth, all the time keeping in the shadows. Again he lifted his nose and poured out his heart, as it were. Again he | received a reply, but before it was | finished, 1t was drowned in such a| roar as made the very ground shake. 01d4 Man Coyote tuc his tail b tween his legs and headed straight | for the Old Pasture as fast as his Yegs could take him. He might have ® relative in that strange place, but | he had no desire now to find out. Once more that great roar shook the earth. It secemed to Old Man Coyote as if every hair on his body Btood up at the same instant. Cold Bhills chased each other all over him. He didn’t know who or what had Mmade that tremendous noise, but he knew that it was the voice of an ani- mal and it made him afraid. And perhaps it made that other Coyote afraid too, for no more did he hear that voice that had so filled him With loneliness. You know, of courss, | Adele Garrison’s Absorbing Sequel to “Revelations of a Wife” . Embers a New Se 'l hurt Miss Mary one bit to let her see that somebody else has an eye on young Veritzen. She’s leading that boy too much of a dance.” I felt ashamed of the eagerness with which I adopted her sugges- tion. Yet one of my old-time intui- tions—premonitions—I do not know what to call them, but I never found it safe to suppress them—told me that T had something else besides ordinary curiosity to satisfy, in making this call upon the strange household and finding out for my- self just what sort of people our new neighbors were. It was only too evident that this imperious young woman meant to get acquainted with young Noel Verizen at any | cost, and while I had no desire to | keep him sitting in Mary’s pocket— I was Kkeeping hands off that affair strictly—yet I had enough interest in the boy himself, to wish to see the young woman who wished to annex him, But that was not my only reason |for my desire to see the new family. |1 might be wrong; my imagination, as Dicky so often has told me, was | probably working overtime, but I | scented mystery, intrigue of some |sort in the household so strangely {and suddenly set down in our midst. The, least I could do was to visit | them and study them carefully. “I'll see what Mr. Graham's plans |are,” I said, with a dutiful wifely | air, which I hoped impessed Mrs. | Ticer, “and if it is possible we will drive over, But don’t expect us.” “Oh, no!” she protested, but there | came a far-away look into her eyes | which I recognized, and T knew that {she was already planning some sort of refreshment which would do | honor to her The Larches and her | new employers upon the occasion of | our call. Then she gathered her coat | around her. “I must hurry,” she sald. “I've a milllon things to do. Don't come | to the door, I'll just collect Jerry and drive on.” But I went with her as far as the ‘khchen door and, when she had | | gone, turned eagerly to Katle, who | | with shining eyes was watching me above the roses she had gathered when T had toldiher to listen to the guttural alien tongue of the two | men with the savage dog, and' see it she could identify the language. Old Man Coyote tucked his tail be- tween his legs and headed straight for the Old Pasture what he had heard. He first had | heard the voice of a Coyote who was | a prisoner in one of the circus cages, ' Then he had heard the voice of Sim. | ba the Lion. It was this thst had sent him scurrying to his home in the Old Pacture with his tail tuck | ed between his legs. (Copyright 1927, by T. W. Burgess) The next story: “The Terrible Fear.” Menas for the Family Breakfast—Shredded fresh pine- apple, broiled cottage ham, cream- ed potatoes, bran and raisin muf- fins, milk, coffee. Luncheon—Baked lima beans, lettuce sarMwiches, orange custard, milk, tea. Dinner—Baked pork chops, scal- loped potatoes, new beets in piquant sauce, stuffed celery, dutch apple pie, milk, coffee. No cereal 1s suggested in the breakfast menu so bran and raisin muffins are used. Children under school age should be served a cereal and crisp taost but adults will enjoy | the menu as it is planned. During the spring months a good breakfast is imperative for every one but school childran particularly need & | nourishing unhurried meal to start their day, Bran and Raisin Muffins. Two eggs, 1 tablespoon sugar, 1| tablespoon molasses, 1 tablespoon | melted butter, 1 cup white flour, 2 cups bran, 1 teaspoon salt, 1 tea- | spoon soda, 1 cup sour milk, % cup | seeded raisins. i Beat eggs untll light. Add suga ‘ molasses and melted butter. Mix | well and add bran and selt. Dis- | solve soda add bran in sour milk | and stir into mixture. Sift flour | over raisins and ly and drop from spoon into oiled nd floured gem pans. 30 minutes in (Copyright 1927, A Service, Inc.) FIED ADS | tasteful to Mr. Pelham. To be | i sure, no hotel manager could e | blamed for having one of his 1d. Mix ‘hnrmm:x—} Bake 25 to | a moderately hot | oven. | R WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE From the veranda of the Hotel Majusaca, at Ocean Town, N. J, Titus Riggs, a guest, sees a_ man | taken from the ocean and 1did on |a the beach while a crowd gathers to stare. The reader has been introduced to these bathers: Ned Barron, the copper king, and his wife, Madeline; Angelica Fair and her fiance, Robin Sea! Rob- in’s father, Croydon Sears; Carmel- ita Valdon and her companions, Roger Neville, Garrett Folsom and Mrs. Barnaby, whom everyone calls the Duchess. From the shocked expression on the faces of the throng, Riggs sur- miges that the man is dead and, putting dowrf his field glasses, he hastens down to the beach, to find that the dead man is Garrett Fol- som. At the hotel, where the body s taken, Ross, the victim's valet, is questioned, and Dixon, hotel de- tective, decldes to examine all of Folsom's companions. " NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER IV Dixon pushed a button and a bellboy appeared at the door. “‘Oh, It's you, Tubby, is it?> Well, hike yourself up to these two rcom numbers and ask the two ladies to come down here immedi- ately.” “Yes sir,” and the fat youngster took the slip that Dixon handed him, “Isn't that a little imperative, Mr. Dixon?” said Neville, with a look of astonishment. “It's the only way. too many times asking, ladies to | come when convenient, #nd it | means a long wait. They can't re- sent a definite summons in an emergency like this.” “No, I suppose not,” Neville agreed, and sure enough, it was but a few moments before the two came {in. “Oh, oh!" naby, as she caught sight blanketed form, ‘“can't somewhere else? That oh, oh—" She covered her face with her hands and gat moaning. “Hush, hush, Duchess,” her com- “Don't make such T've tried | exlcaimed Mrs. Bar- of the we go awful— do let us go out of here! Mr. Neville, beg him to let me go! I must go!" She rose and made for the door with such evident determination that Dixon thought best to humor her. “All right” he said kindly, “we'll go into another room. | Come, please, Mrs. Valdon, and | you, too, Mr. Neville. There were several nearby | rooms used more of less as offices, | and into one of them Dixon ushered his little crowd of people. Pelham remained behind, wait- ing for the appearance of the doc- | tor, who had been sent for with | an urgent request to make haste. The whole affair was most dis- guests drop dead, but it made an | unpleasant commotion, and try as | he would, it seemed impossible to keep the affair secret. The bellhoys were staring; the | elevator attendants were on the alert; the clerks at the desk. | though outwardly calm, were wide- eyed and listening. The news had, of course, | spread, and some of the guests in the great foyer were frankly curi- ous, and were even beginning to | ask questions. | They saw the two women, ac- | companied by the hotel detective and Roger Neville, go into a room and, close the door. Yet the conversation In there was in no way alarming or even in- | teresting. Relieved of the sight of the still | shrouded form of Garrett Folsom, | | Mrs. Barnaby became herself again and answered readily enough all the questions put to her. | Too readily, indeed, for she was a voluble sort, and once started she loved to hear the sound of her | own voice. “Oh, yes, of course I knew Mr. Folsom,” she returned to “Dixon’s | question. “No, I didn't know him ! KNOTS OF TALKATIVE CHAMBE | bathing, until last evening, but you see, he's the kind of man you feel ac- quainted with at once. My friend Mrs. Valdon, introduced him to me, d I took to him that very min- ute. A delightful man—oh, what a pity he is gone!” “Then, it you never knew Mr. Folsom until last evening, you| can't tell me much about him,” Dixon said, a little curtly. “Mrs. Valdon, you have known him for a longer time?” “Yes,” Carmelita Valdon replied, her great dark eyes filling' with tears. “I have known Mr. Folsom for several years. He was my law- yer and my friend as well. T was rejoiced when I heard he was down here, and we planned many things to do by way of entertalnment. I knew Mrs. Barnaby would like him, and I was not surprised when I found the liking mutual.” “And you three,” Dixon took in the trio, “with Mr. Folsom were the whole of your party to go in bathing this morning?"” “Yes,” Mrs. Barnaby sald, un- able to keep out of the conversa- tion. “And T was so glad I had my new bathing suit; it just came yesterday. And Mrs. Valdon, too —we were the best-dressed crowd on the beach. Oh, I can’t believe he is gone!" “Who stood next to Mr. Folsom at the rope?” Dixon asked, ignor- ing the talkative one, “you, Mrs. on?" 3 Carmelita began, but Mrs. Barnaby interrupted. “I was next but one,” she sald. “I mean I was next to Carmelita and she was next to Mr. Folsom. But I can tell you what happened, for I was looking right at him.” Clearly, Dixon thought, it was best to let her tell it, as she was far more willing to talk than the others. “Why, we were all standing there, taking the waves,” she said, “and laughing, and just after a big breaker passed, Mr. Folsom sort of loosened his grip on the | rope and then his hands fell away from the rope and he just sank down under the water. That's all Then everybody secmed to scream and another wave came and then I saw the life guards come and get hold of Mr. Folsom and carry him out of the water up onto the beach. That's all.” “You were next Mr. Folsom, I believe, Mrs. Valdon,” Dixon said, turning to Carmelita, “you saw the scene Mrs. Barnaby has just de- scribed?” “Why, yes,” was the reply, “that is, I suppose it must have been that way. But I was not looking at him at all. T had all T could do to keep my feet. The surf was very high and the waves pounded so I pald no attention to any one else. I just clung to the rope to keep from being knocked down myself. If Mr. Folsom had even a slight cramp it is not suprising he was drawn under by the waves." “You were off the rope, Mr. Neville?” and Dixon turned to him. ¥ T hate to be hanging to a! rope. 1 take the big waves head on, and it they fling me up on | the beach, that is the sort of eport | I enjoy. Folsom liked it, too, but he felt he must stay with the ladies. He broke away once or twide and then went back.” “Yes, but he was glad to get back,” Mrs. Barnaby told them. “He wasnt’ much used to surf| and he seemed to get winded easily.” “You noticed that, too, Mrs. Valdon?” pursued the questioner. “Not specially,” she said. “But as I told you, I was busy looking out for myself. I think I was never so buffeted by the waves as we were this morning. They were ferocious!™ “Who stood %on the other side of Mr. Folsom?” Dixon inquired, and as Neville and Mrs, Barnaby shook “Where were you then, Mr. Neville?” “In the water, not far from our crowd. 1 saw Mrs. Barnaby's black and yellow cap and she waved her hand toward shore, o I gathered we were all to go in and 1 started toward the land. But there was a crowd, and before 1 could get to shore, I saw the men carrying & man in, and I saw at once that it was Folsom." “And you followed them?” “Of course. And stood by until they started to bring him here, then I went to my bathhouse and dressed as quickly as I could.” “Well,” said Dixon, “I think that's bout all you people can tell me, then. I just wanted to get the detalls of the drowning. Hello, here comes the valet, Ross.” The man came into and stood at attention. Though evidently stirred with excitement, he preserved & calm demeanor, and except for a ner- vous twitching of his fingers, the room showed no sign of perturbation. “You have been to the bathhouse, Ross?" wardly, “Yes, ou asked Dixon, straightfor- .ir.” found Mr. Folsom's clothes there? “Yes, sir. The key was with the bathing master. He gave it to me, and I brought Mr. Folsom's clothes back here and put them in his room." “They were all in order, then— nothing missing?" “Why, yes, sir. I suppose so. I didn’t look in the pockets, sir, and Mr. Folsom never wears any valu- able jewelry when he goes to bathe. Just a collar button and cuff links. And his watch—that was all right, si “Well, of course, I didn’t anticl- pate any molestation of his be- longings. The bathing master wouldn’t give up the key to & stranger. How did he come to give it to you “I don't know, sir. I just told him the circumstances and said I was Mr. Folsom's man.” “All right, Ross. Did you put the clothes away?” “No, sir, T just left them in a plle on the couch in the sitting The chambermald is in the room. bedroom, doing it up, and I thought I'd better report to you nce, sir.” ou did just right. Now, Ross, consider yourself in charge of Mr. Folsom’s effects untll we can get advices from his sister. We are going to telegraph to her. Per- haps you would do it?” “Just as you say, sir. It I do it, T will ask her for orders.” ‘Not a bad idea. Go, then, and send the telegram {in your own way.” Ross went off and Neville sald thoughttully: “Going some, to leave that man in charge of all Folsom's belong- ings—" “I know,” returned the detec- tive. “I watched his face for & gleam of satisfaction at the pros- pect, but he seemed to take it as a matter of course.” “Oh, {t's all right, I know how Folsom trusted him, as a servant and as a genéral right-hand man. But somehow it seems—" “It certainly does,” put in Car- melita Valdon. “It seems Wrong to leave a mere valet in charge of a rich man's goods.” “His valuables are in the safe,” said Dixon. “I've already ascer- tained that. Late last night‘he brought two or three sealed en- velopes to the desk and took & receipt for them. As to jewelry or money, I suppose the valet is honest."” “Oh, yes—that,” said Neville. “T was thinking more of letters or private papers, not of a value to be put in the safe, but which ought not to be left around loose.” i eads, rned to DMrs. ;!E"m:"}xsa )::m!;:me “Indced they ought not!" sald “It was Mr, Barron” she said. | Mrs. Valdon, with declsion. “I “I know because Mr. Folsom asked me who he was and I leaned over to see, That was just before we de- cided to come out of the water. We couldn’t find Mr. Neville, 50 we said we'd go out anyway. Then a | big wave came, and it was right after that that Mr. Folsom went under.” RMAIDS GATHERED IN THE HALLS | thing more to do until { should think as Mr. Neville is & great friend of Mr. Folsom and { more or less associated with him in business—" “Were you partners?” Dixon directly. “No,” Neville returned, “not part- ners, but we worked together on many cases, and I think I may say I know more of his private affairs than any one else.” “It would seem then, Mr. Neville, that you are the one to take charge of the whole matter. Will you take the keys then from Ross and con- sider yourself the responsible one # “Not quite that” Neville said his face a little perplexed. “Sup- pose you let Ross keep his key and let me take the room key that Mr. Folsom carried. Then either of us can have access to the rooms.” “Yes, that is a good plan,” and relieved at the settlement of the question, Dixon rose to go. “I can’t see that we have any- Miss Fol- som comes or wires,” Neville went on. “If you want to consult with me when the doctor comes, I'll be somewhere around the hotel.” “Very well, Mr. Neville,” Dixon sald, and bowed cut the three guests with a feeling of satisfac- tion that the interview was over. asked “As a matter of fact,”” he thought to himself, “I'd trust that honest-looking valet fcllow before T would the gentlemanly Neville, but it's all none of my business. |1t these people are friends of the | dead man, it's up to them to care | for his Interests. Hello, there's Mr. Barron. I suppose T ought to ask him a question or tw So he stepped up to the party of five, who had just come into the lobby. “A word or two, if you please, Mr. Barron,” he sald, in a low tone, and as Ned Barron looked amazed, Dixon went on: ‘Nothing much, only I want to know if you were acquainted with the gentleman who died in the water this morning—Mr. Garrett Folsom 2" o, T was not,” sald Barron, & littl shortly. “But I'm told you were talking to him fust before he had his heart attack, or whatever it wal “You were misinformed. That lis, he was talking to me, but I oyed by him “Oh, it's going too far to call it annoyed. But I never llke to have a stranger address me in the Oosan, and that is what he aid.” “You were unacquainted with him?* “Entirely 0. I never saw him before, and, presuming on the in- formality of the sea, I supposs, he began to chat. I was decently po- lite, but in no way did I encour- age his conversation.” “None of your party WwWas @c- quainted with hitm, then?" “No—that is, I don’t think any of them were. I'll inquire.” Ned Barron turned back toward the people who had come in with him and who stood walting while the detective spoke to him. “I say, Sears,” he beckoned to his friend, “you didn’t know that man Folsom, 4id you?” “Not socially,” Croydon Bears replied, stepping closer to them. “I've had a little business with him once or twice, but it was some time ago—I doubt it he remem- bered me at all. Why?* “Mr. Dixon wants to know. How about you, Robin?” and he turned to Bears’ son. “Did you know i Folsom?" “No; never heard of him till the commotion on the beach. Somebody told me his name then.” “And the ladies?” Dixon turned to the two women of the party. But both Madeline Barron and her young friend, Miss Fair, as- serted that they had never before heard of Garrett Folsom, and so Dixon ' concluded the interview with an apology for the intrusion. “Rotten business,” he told him- self. “Don't ses why I should pester any more people about it. The hotel will get a bad name it we don’'t hush the thing up as soon as we can.” ‘Whereupon Dixon saw to it that strict orders were given to all em- ployes to say nothing whatever on the subject of Mr. Folsom's death, which orders were publicly obeyed and privately disregarded. The elevator men refused any information asked of them by curious passengers and the bell- boys told patrons that they knew nothing ot the circumatances, but somehow the news flew about and knots of talkative chambermaids gathered in the halls and waiters in the pantries whispered unceas- ingly. On the deck, after luncheon, many of the guests of the hotel sat about and those who had seen the affair at the beach in the morning eagerly told the story to those who had not been present. Roger Neville, who feit In a way conspicuous as being & friend of Folsom's, would have preferred to absent himself from the crowd- ed scene. But both Mrs. Barnaby and Mrs. Valdon . insisted on his presence and he eouldn’t well desert them. “My heavens!” exclaimed the Duchess, “don’t you dare leave us alone! Why, we'd be besieged by gossip-mongers and what in the world could we say to them?” “What can I say to them, my dear lady?" asked Neville. “Sup- pose we go for a ride in the wheeled chalrs. Don't you think it would do you both good?” “No,” returned Carmelita. *Tt would not do to go away now. The manager might want to see us, and, too, Y want to be here when word comes from Miss Fol- som.” “You know her, saild Neville. ve met her a few times, and, between you and me, I didn’t take to her at all.” Neville laughed. “Who ecould i take to her? Anastasla 1s not an attractive person, I'll admit.” “Anastasia!” exclaimed the Duch- ess, “what an intriguing name! I'a love to meet somebody named Anastasia!" (To Be Continued) Certain of Carmelita Valdon's ac- tions begin to look suspicious. Read don't you?” the next chapter. Your Health How to Keep It— Causes of Iliness BY DR. MORRIS FISHBEIN Editor Journal of the American Medical Association and of Hy- gela, the Health Magazine. About 1918 numerous cases began to appear in the United States of & condition promptly christened by the newspapers “American sleeping sickness.” It became necessary for physicians to explain the difference between this condition and the African sleeping sickness, of which much is definitely known. The American condition was characterized by & progressive stu- por or lethargy in some instances, although in others there was excite- ment and babbling. The disease occurred most commonly in the winter months, rarely in children, and affected both sexes. It had various forms, all of them, however, affecting the nervous sys- tem, bringing about difficulties in motion, pecullarities of conduct and paralysis. Apparently early epl- demics had followed influenza, as the one of 1918 followed the in- fluenza epldemic which spread acros the world in 1915, 1916 and | 1917, ‘The disease 1s quite eertainly communicable from one person to another, but its cause is unknown. Its spread has caused much alarm. since the condition cannot be con- trolled by any known methods. As with infantile paralysis, from which this disease differs in many particu- lars, spreading probably occurs by the discharges from the nose and throat of infected persons, or from articles soiled with these discharges. Presumably the contact is direct, although it cannot be demonstrated in every instance. In view of what is already known concerning this disease, per- sons who are sick should be ialo- lated and all discharges, as well as clothing associated with them, should be thoroughly disinfected. The treatment of this condition i1 what physiclans call “symptom- atic,” giving attention to controlling each one of the symptoms as it de- velopa. La Touraine Coffee Again Reduced PRICE NOW 853c Ib. 27c %lb. You might as well have the best W. S. QUINBY COMPANY—New York BOSTON Chicage Made in a Minute- A Wonderful Dressing for Fruit Salads LLOW the recipe below and make this delicious salad dressing in a minute—prove to yourself that Mazola is equal to the finest imported salad oils. Regardless of price the world affords no finer, more whole- some salad oil than Mazola. This recipe is from Ida Bailey Allen’s New Book “The Modern Method of Preparing Delightful Foods”—see coupon below. FRENCH DRESSING FOR FRUIT SALADS Y4 cup Mezola 3 tablespoons lemon 1 tablespoon Karo, . juics Red Label Y4 teaspoon salt 34 teaspoon paprika Beat until thoroughly blended and use with any fruit salad. Phone 4950 SEND ONLY 10c (sumr-coin) with this coupon and you will receive s of Ida Bailey Allen's wonderful new Book, beautifully bound, 112 pages of unusual tecipes. Write Corn Products it:fim'n Co., P. O. Box 171, Trinity Station, N. Y. P (7 TR —————— P 27 T R ——— in all walks of life About 83 per cent of the people in the Uhited States depend upon the type of service, as furnished by this Company, when they need money. These people come from all walks of life. They include wage earners, sal- aried men, professional men,—men of almost every occupation. Just as THEY borrovi— In this dignified confidential way so can YOU. You get your money in 14 hours., . Plenty of time to pay us in small monthly payments. It you need money feel free to come In and see us with out obligation. The Mutual System 81 West Main Street ROOM 113-113—PROFESSIONAL BUILDING OPEN 9 A. M. TO 8 P. M.—SATURDAY TO 1 P. M. Loans made in Plainville and Bristol. -