Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, November 20, 1916, Page 8

Vitagraph Company From the Popular Novel of the same name| by C. N. and A. M. Williamson Stars of This Episode * MR. EARLE WILLIAMS as CHRISTOPHER RACE MISS BETTY HOWE as MRS. HORTENSE Next Week Another Story and New Picture Copyright, 1916, by the Star Company. All Foreign Rights reserved. the smallest village without attract- ing attention. Christopher had made a night run, as Scarlet Runner was now fitted with a fine searchlight which could turn darkness into day, therefore, he had no abiding place in the neighbor- hood. Nevertheless, he had the curi- osity to remain for an hour or two at Tilton-on-Sea after towing the Hansard there, in the hope of some elucidation of the mystery. But no unknown motorist had stayed at the hotel there or at any other nearby to which inquiries were sent. No such car as the rescued Hansard had been noticed by anyone, and at last, little wiser than when he had first seen the squat shape rising from a welter of surf, Race drove off to London. Leaving Scarlet Runner in her ga- rage, he went to his club and picked up the last edition of his favorite pa- er. 4 His eyes ran down column after column of the pages on which such news might be displayed, and finally caught at a paragraph headed, “Mys- tery of a Motor Car.” ‘Here we are!" Christapher mut- tered, beginning to read with interest. But to his disappointment the para- graph had nothing to do with the af- fair at Tilton-on-Sea. “Yesterday morning,” he read, “an empty motor car was discovered on the Oxford-road. A party of !aborers going td work saw a new looking, blue ainted car of moderate size standing gy the roadside, with no one in it. They lingered for some time, expect- ing the owner to arrive, but when no one came they ransacked the woods in the -neighborhood, suspecting foul play. The search proving vain, how- ever, the laborers gave information to the police of Needleham, the near- est town, and a horse was sent out to tow the automobile to the police sta- tion. There it was recognized during the morning as the property of a gen- tleman who had arrived at an hotel the evening before, unaccompanied by a chauffeur. This gentleman had already left town, but as he had gone by rail he was traced to Oxford, about ten miles distant. Interviewed there on' the subject of the lost car he changed color, and appeared at first somewhat agitated at learning where It had been found. But he expressed himself delighted to hear of its re- covery, offered a reward to the men who had given the information and turned by the next train to Needle- am, where he once more took charge of his property. The gentleman's name as it appeared in the visitors' book of the Bell and Bush hotel of Needleham was John 8Smith, London. He refused to lod a complaint st any person for the. theft of his motor, though he did not deny in #0 many words that he knew who had taken it." It was while Christopher was read- ing the column under & somewhat sensational heading, which the Daily Recorder gave to the mystery of Til- ton-on-Sea, that the mald who brought his breakfast brought with ft a visiting card. The name was an unfamiliar one, but the magic words, “Dally Recorder," were printed be- neath, as a kind of “Open sesame” to closed doors. “Tell the gentleman to come up,” sald he to the little servant who had brought him so many queer messages and visitors of late. In another moment a spruce look- ing young man appeared—not an or- dinary reporter, it seemed, but a rep- resentative deputed to ask Mr. Race's help in solving the mystery of the blue motor car, The matter was to be ‘taken up” by the journal and a reward was to be offered for infor- mation. - Mr. Race's name had been popular with the public since he was instrumental in placing the young King and Queen of Dalvania on their disputed throne, Besides, he was known in the motor world, and alto- gether, If he would lend himself to the scheme, it would be considered an advantage to the paper. Christopher reflected and soon reached a practical conclusion. He had no engagement for Scarlet Run- ner, having been obliged to sacrifice one or two on the altar of the new [ improvements. He agreed to the proposal, and promised to begin investigations at once, the Dally Recorder giving him carte blanche as to his proceedings, and asking only for a telegraphic re- port of progress each evening in time to go to press with his news—or lack of news. The first thing that Christopher did was to proceed in Scarlet Runner to Needleham, a pretty little town which had just outgrown villagehood. At the VIL—THE MYSTERIOUS MOTOR CAR. The tide was coming in, and the five-mile stretch of beach was hard and glistening. Christopher could hardly have chosen a better place for a speed trial to test the success of a new invention, nor a better time than the earliest hint of dawn. There had been a storm yesterday and the green rollers boomed upon the sand as they curled over and flung their white foam towards the wheels of Scarlet Runner; but with the birth of day the.wind had died. The car purred rhythmically, and Christopher hummed happily as he drove. He was excited, for an expreiment which had absorbed two weeks of his time and many coins of hard earned money was proving a success. He had felt certain that not only need he not fear police traps if he exceeded the legal limit in driving (and had he not made the journey expressly to exceed the legal Iimit?), but that there would not be a single soul to see and report Scarlet Runner's law- breaking feats. Yet here, at half past 4 in the morning, on this desolate beach, he was on the point of coming plump upon half a dozen men, who might almost have been waiting to catech him. For onee his imagination failed. For a moment he saw nothing sug. gestive in the grouping of half a doz- en men around some object, half engulfed in water, which they were striving to drag out. But, in fact, Christopher had some excuse for his temporary self absorption. His latest client had finished a wed- ding trip en automobile, whereupon Race had returned to London and been thrown into the society of a fel- low enthusjast for motors—a young engineer who had designed a new in- vention. It was a very clever invention, for at a stroke it revolutionized all existing systems of transmission and/ did away with ' hax,.pinions and clutch. The en, worked a pump, whose business was tb compress oll and force it under high-pressure to two turbines on the back axle. These hérbln- turned the wheels, “and there you are,” as the Inventor explained, exulting over his model. The system was capable of infinite gradations of speed guiding this stream of oil toward the center or toward the per- ?m‘rg of the turbines, Owing to the eneficient nature of the transmitting force the mechanism was smooth and “sllent as the motor of a dream, and A t proportion of the engine gi.m’sb e td act directly on the et Runner, thus regenerated; moommo &1;!. of & liondn mhhog ago, her owner prou hat she should be the car in to inaugurate a new era in liem. Buch tests as could be been made In London streets and been triumphant, and now here jpher with his scarlet dari- engine both beating in satistactory trial, sun as sole thirty of the group in Race kened speed and turned, sacrificing the the had not one of d begun to shout e same moment away from the his extreme surprise, 1] | surrounded erged automobile. all desire to depart was by a fire of curiosity. ‘retreating he drove nearer; nt as was still the car. mystery which made a special appeal to the heart of a mo- torist. s “Halloa! What's happened here?" exclaimed Christopher to the man who met Scarlet Runner. “This looks a queer business.”" “That it does, sir,” answered a brown :l.d fllt.a;mmd 'An‘:l as to ‘what's ppened we don't know no fl" than you, or the babe unborn the matter of that. But some- thing’s happened, and, as you say, something queer.” queer. § “‘Perhaps the gentleman himself can glve us information,” remarked a fellow; also a fisherman. ‘e have sent for the police from -on=Sea, sir,” sald the elder man. b&y and I were the first to catch t of this 'ere, and we got together some mates to help drag her out of the water before the tide gets up. stood where she is so long wheels have sunk into the sand and we can't move her." “I'll help with that work if some of you will hitch a rope around her front axle,” Christopher volunteered. ol can tow her, But here comes a poli now. A blue clad man, hastily dressed at @ summons, was approaching, guided by a boy. He stared gravely at the automobile, murmured that it looked like murder or suicide, and began ‘scribbling notes in a book produced from his pocket, while the derelict was being rescued. A young fisher- man volunteered to get a rope around the car, and soon succeeded, though it was a battle with the waves. The was fixed to Scarlet Runner, the lerman hauled on' it, and Race, ~ driving his motor up the beach, the X automobile crawled, drip- out of the sea.’ istopher made a careful exami- .W'M the derelict and announced 4 hi certainty that it was a Hansard, of a date about 4 years old, but elab- itely altered and modernized. sered into the gear box, saw that the pinions were clean and new, and Md that the motor had apparently un many miles since ng re- Another point to. which he 3 tion of the constable was number of the motor had carefully chiselled off, and that imb plate of the car itself ng. This showed that its mt had been an act of d: and the plate must have removed, as an automo- such a mark could hardly best hotel he obtained a description of Mr. John Smith, of London, and was favored by a glimpse of a sign ture in the visitors’ book. Mr, Smith was apparently a gentlema well dressed, so far as the landlord and the servants of the inn had noticed. He was tall, rather fair, but sun- burned, and wore a beard cut like that of a naval officer; indeed, now one came to recall him, he had some- what the air of a sallor. He might have been anywhere between the age of 30 and 35. No further informa- tion concerning Mr. Smith could Ade obtained. 8o far Christopher had not accom- plished much, and his pride was at stake. He determined to travel from Needleham to Tilton-on-Sea by short stages, making researches here and there. Starting at the time he calcu- lated Mr: Smith must have started, he paused to put questions at towns where a motorist might have stopped for repairs and to buy oll and petrol. He could learn nothing of the blue motor or its driver, however, until at about 6 o'clock in the evening he reached Helmsford. Between Helmsford and Tilton-on- Sea Christopher could learn nothing. The journey had been made by the blue car after dark, and nobody could be found ‘who had seen it, even though Christopher refrained from continuing his own journey till day- light for fear of missing the trail. At last he arrived once more at Til- ton-on-8ea, three days after leaving it. The Hansard was still in charge of the police at the little seaside town, which was now stirred to its depths by the sensational surmises of the Lon- THE BEE: OMAHA, MONDAY, NOVEMBER 20, 1916. the car a visit, and in looking over it carefully lest some detail might have escaped his attention, an idea sud- denly occurred to him. As he had stated at first, carelessly, the automobile had been newly painted. Now he asked himself if the change of paint were not in ft- self an attempt at a disguise calcu- lated to entangle the meshes of mys- tery in a way still more complicated. He scraped off a bit of the bright- ly varnished paint on the back of the seat and brought to light a patch of color red ‘as.blood. No other tint could have been more conspicuous than this crimson which had been lately covered with blue. It was of a shade even more noticeable than that of Scarlet Run- ner, and this discovery gave Christo- pher food for thought. A man might have his car repainted for reasons other than because it had become shabby. Christopher remained all day at Tilton-on-8ea, having gathered no ex- citing new materfal for his evening telegram to the paper; but as the soft opal twilight of September fell he | went out gnce more on the sands for a spin with Scarlet He had Iéunner. little hope of making' any discovery, but his work during the day had been nervous work, and at -worst a run over_the old ground to the scene of the Tnystery could do no harm. This way must the blue motor car have come, since a great arch of rock closed In the beach at the end| of the splendid five-mile stretch. Other rocks there were, too, strangely formed, grotesque, striding out across opened; but he would not have re- marked the newcomer with particu- larity if the newcomer had not ap- peared disconcerted at sight of him. He was a tall, good-looking man of 32 or thereabouts, clean-shaven, brown-faced, and evidently fresh from ablutions, for his short-cut, light brown hair was wet and crinkly. Christopher had never to his knowl- edge seen this person before, but as the eyes of the two men met across the room the newcomer stopped with his hand on the door, his face freezing into an expression of blank dismay. For a second he stood still; then, in- stead of advancing Into the room, he turned abruptly round and went out, closing the door behind him. Instantly Christopher sprang up. “It's the man himself!” were the words that flashed- into his head. He thought of the photographs of himself taken with Scarlet ‘Runner which had so often appeared in the Daily Recorder. A man tarined by habit, or necessity to quick observa-: tion might readily recognize him from these reproductions; and what man, save one, thus recognizing him need wish to get out of his way unseen? Christopher darted to the door and, flinging it open, dashed into the cor- ridor. The front door of the inn was closed, but Christopher could hear the sound of a motor being started, and at the same instant he saw the man who | had made so hasty an exit from the dining room. His back was turned to Christopher, but having started the motor he was looking up the street as if expecting some one. Christopher would have flung the door open, but carlel Rurr money for the car's keep and repairs. Later he would wire an address and instructions. On hearing this news from the em- ployes of the garage the chauffeur's face fell. His master had, indeed, in- tended to take the night boat, and he was to have followed with the car on the cargo boat; but Mr. Fortescue had seemed to value the new automobile highly, and it was extraordinary that he should rush off like this leawng his property in the hands of strang- ers. “What time does the boat start?” asked Christopher. ‘“‘She’s started, sir,” replied the care- taker of the garage. ‘“Then I must send a wire before it reaches Calais,” exclaimed Race. ‘“She’ll be at Calais before a”wire could reach there,” returned the man of Dover. “She'll be landing its pas- sengers ten minutes from now?" Without another word Christopher started the throbbing Scarlet Runner off towards the station, where, after hurried explanations to the station- master, he got into telephonic com- munication with the Daily Recorder, and received instructions to follow the escaping criminal across the channel at the newspapers' expense, instantly, and at any cost. There was a small tug which could be hired, and Christopher chartered it with little trouble or delay. He was an hour and a ‘half on the water, reached Calais before daylight, and went straight to the railway station to learn, if he could, whether the man he sought had been among the pas- “OH, YOU DARLING BOY: IF YOU ARE GOING TO CANADA, TAKE ME WITH, YOU.” the sand here and there, though leav- ing room for a roadway on the safe side of the highest tides; and this eve- ning as Christopher drove Scarlet Runner smoothly, thoughtfully along the level sands, the sun's last rays reddened a great block of stone called the Turk's Head. The rock had, indeed, a vague re- semblance to thé head of a giant wrapped in a turban, neck.and shoul- ders rising above the beach. The enormous face appeared to be ever staring out to sea, the half-shaped eyes wide open, the great slit which was the mouth parted in, a grin as flerce as it was grotesque, when seen by a person of imaginative mind. Christopher had always been fascin- ated by these rocks, the Turk’'s Head especially, but to his mind it bore a i ess to the Sphinx. , Sphinx, would that you'd tell me the secret of this beach!"” he said, as he slowed down within sight of the gigantic bust. Then, looking up, it seemed to him that the shape of the mouth had changed. It looked less wide than usual. “There's something inside it,” he exclaimed, half aloud, and stopped Scarlet Runner, He silenced the motor, jumped out of the car, and—glad for the moment that he had this part of the beach to himself; though he could see figures afar off—began to climb up the Turk's shoulder. There was handhold on the rough, protruding chin, then kneehold; then handhold above, on the huge fat cheek; which reached gave good foot- hold on the chin. Hanging on by a spike of rock which might have been a mole on the giant Turk's face, Chris- topher peered into the mouth. He had not been mistaken. Within was a dark bundle, pushed far back and while Christopher supported him- self by one hand with the other he reached ‘into the aperture and drag- ged out the parcel, Then he could have exclaimed in triumph, for his treasure-trove was a motoring coaf of the most approved fashion wrapped around a cap—a combination between the cap of a motorist and a yachts- man’s, 8o foreibly had the coat been jam- med into its place that in pulling it out the cloth caught a projection of rock and tore, The cap rolled to the front, bounded out of the hole and fell on the sand twenty feet below. Christopher’s account of his discov- ery in the Turk's mouth, on the sands near Tilton-on-Sea was made the most of in the Daily Recorder's columns, and he was complimented by the edi- tor. Nevertheless days passed with- out his being able to follow his first sensational coup with another. The man who had hidden the coat and cap and driven the blue Hansard into the sea might himself have vanished under the waves, so far as any trace of him could be found either by the police or their amateur rival The mystery threatened to share the fate of other nine-day wonders, notwith- standing the reward offered by the London papers and the money it lav- ished on its “Motor Detective."” Public interest was languishing, and Christopher was' growing restless when, one evening nearly a fortnight after the finding of the derelict, he was dining at a country inn%n the London side of Rochester. Christopher sat at a small table op- through the sirects of|don press. Christopher went to pay posite the door, and looked up as it an obsequious waiter stepped forward to perform that service, and between the two the business was bungled. “Mr. John Smith!" Christopher yelled through the glass, his hand and the waiter's both on the old-fashioned latch. He hoped to make: the stranger turn, and if he did so, at the sound of that name, it would be practically cer- tain that his sudden departure was no coincidence. But, instead of turning, the man sprang into the driver's seat of the fine, large car, which he had already started, and flashed away from the hotel. Dinner was but half over and Chris- topher was still hungry, yet there was only one thought in his mind—to fol- low the yellow motor car. He turned to hand money to a staring waiter and say, “Don’'t mind the change,” as Mr. John Smith had done before on a pre- vious emergency, when a leather-clad chaufféur- came running up, a dazed look on his face. , “Well, I never!" this youth exclaim- ed inelegantly, as the automobile dis- appeared round the corner. “Is he out of his wits?" “Is that your car?" asked Christo- pher. “Yes,”'answered the chauffeur; “it's gone off without me. But I suppose it will be coming back. I was told to get my supper, and, as I'm paying my own bill this trip, I went down the street to a cheap place.” | “Perhaps I'm going his way,” said Christopher. “If so, you can go on with me, if you like, in my car. I'm starting at once. What's your employ- er's name?" “Fortescue,” replied the chauffeur. “I don't know much about him. I only got the job yesterday. He's-shipping his car—a forty-horsepower Ressler— from Dover to Calais by cargo boat to- night. Car's new-—only delivered a day or'two ago, I believe, after delay. Much obliged for your offer, sir. Are you going that way?" “l am,” said Christopher. Five minutes later Scarlet Runner was off, and flying faster than the law allows; but accidents can happen with the best regulated motor cars. Things so seldom happened to Scarlet Runner that Race had got out of the habit of expecting them; but if any- thing unpleasant did occur, it was usually when least convenient. Of all nights, Christopher Race would have prayed for a good run tonight; yet it was now that Scarlet Runner, with the perverseness of the best automobiles, chose to puncture a tire. Even with the strange chauffeur's help there was nearly half an hour’s delay; and hard- ly was the car on the road again when the tire on the other driving-wheel went down. Another half hour was wasted; nevertheless, when Scarlet Runner rushed through Dover towards the quay, it passed a yellow car stand- ing in the open doorway of a garage. “That's it! I'd swear it!” cried the chauffeur; and Christopher stopped in triumph. “We've done the trick!" he said to himself. But, though they had tracked the car, they had lost the man. The Res- sler, it appeared, had also had an ac- cident. It had broken its change-speed lever not far from the garage where Christopher had found it standing, and its owner had paid some men to help him push it into its present position. He wished to catch the night boat, he sengers in the boat-train for Paris. But there had been a crowd of Eng- lishmen and Americans, several of whom answered well enough to the description given, so far as French porters and ticket-takers could re- member. ¢ Christopher had brought the chauf- feur across with him, thinking he might be useful, and now he decided to leave the man in Calais, to. look about fpr his absconding master and to wire to him (Christopher) at the Hotel Continental, Paris, if Fortescue were seen. The chauffeur, peeved at the treatment he had received, agreed to accept the payment offered for this service; and Christopher, bereft of Scarlet Runner, and unwilling to wait some hours for the next train, routed out the sleeping proprietor of a garage, hired a powerful sixty-horse- power motor car, and dashed off in the early dawn for Paris. The next move in the game was to sek the aid of a private detective, since the French police would only interest thémselves in such a quest when ap- plled to by their brothers on the other side. That application would come; but meanwhile Christopher in- tended to leave no stone unturned; and it was not until he had done all that could be done by way of inter- views and telegrams that he went to bed at the Continental, where he had taken a small suite of rooms. He had left directions that he was to be waked if a caller or even a tele- gram should come; but the clock on his mantelpiece pointed to noon and he still slept on. Not many minutes later, however, his telephone bell rang violently. A clerk in the bureau of the hotel wished to advise monsieur of the fact that there was an inquiry for him, from the Ritz. A lady stop- ping there was telephoning to know if Monsieur Christopher Race were in, and, if so, whether he would réceive her if she called on urgent business. Madame did not care to announce her name, but she had a communication to make concerning the affair which had brought Monsieur Race to Paris. Seldom did a man bathe and dress in a shorter space of time; but when his visitor was announced Christopher was ready to receive here. He expected a Frenchwoman, but the lady who was ushered into his lit- tle salon had the air of an English- women or an American. She could not be more than 28 at most, and might be younger. Her hair, under its neat toque, was the color of a ripe and burnished chestnut, her features were piquant and dainty, her com- plexion of the wild-rose order. But her eyes were her most remarkable feature. They were large and soft, deeply violet, and their first half- frightened, half-appealing look at Christopher disconcerted and disarm- ed him. This lovely creature could be no female detective. Yet, if not, what eould she be? ' How had she found him out, and what could she wint of him ? “‘Mr. Race?"” she faltered. “An American,” thought Christo- pher. “No, a Canadian,” as aloud he claimed ownership of the name she mentioned. You'll hardly believe it,” she went on, “but I've travelled all the way from Montreal to talk to you, Mr. Race. 1 arrived at Cherbourg yes- terday afternoon, came on to Parls, explained, for Calais, and would leave | where I slept, as I was very tired after a rough voyage, and meant to leave for London today; but I saw in the foreign edition of the Daily Recorder that you'd arrived in Paris, and would be at this hotel, so I waited, and now I've come to see you here. “It was the articles in the Daily Recorder which brought me across the ocean,” his beautiful visitor went on, before he had time to speak, “‘and so I made up my mind from what I read that you would be the man for me to appeal to. But, of coufse, you can't understand what I'm talking about. I wouldn’t send my name by telephone, but I am Mrs. Fortescue. When I was 17 and my husband was 23, I married an Englishman who came to Canada, in the diplomatic service. We fell in love at first sight, and married against my people’'s wish, when we'd known each other only a month. He had to promise that we'd live in my mother's house, otherwise she wouldn’'t have consented at all, and—things didn't go well with us. I was a child. He was scarcely more than a boy. We both had plenty of money. I had been spoiled, and he had a strong will. I suppose, too, we had hot tempers, and I see now, ten years after, that as my people never liked him, be- cause they wanted me to marry a Ca- nadian, they weren't exactly tactful. We quarrelled; I was encouraged to thwart him. When he wanted me to leave homé and go with him to Eng- land I refused. Then we quarrelled a good deal more—and, to make a long story short, we separated. “After that I spent all my time in trying to think I'd been wise, until I saw the articles in the Daily Recorder (which I'd begun to take in, for Lon- don news) about the mystery of the motor car. Mr. Race, that Hansard car was my husband's car, I'm sure. That's why I've flown over to this side again. I'm afraid—oh, horribly afraid —something dreadful has happened to him. }e'd just bought a red Han- sard car, exactly answering the de- scription of the blue one you found in the sea, at the time he was beg- ging me to be his wife again. He came in it to see me and wanted me to go out with him, as he was very keen on motoring. A friend had sold the car to him—a man I met at the same din- ner I told.you of. I didn't like the creature. I—I think he rather admir- ed me and would have been glad to flirt, although my husband had told him our story. I believe that my hus- band may Wave— as he threatened to do—lost all interest in life and com- mitted suicide. Or else some other awful thing has happened. I can't help feeling as if, in either case, I may be to blame, so I had to come. I couldn’t rest. Oh, if only he could be found, how I would try to make up to him for the past! I hoped you might have solved the mystery by this time, or, if not, that I could help you. So now you understand why I'm here, and why, in a way, I have a right to beg that you'll tell me everything you've been doing, everything you know. Do you believe my husband has killed himself, or been mur- dered?” Christopher hesitated. He did be- lieve that the man had been mur- dered; but how could he strike this lovely, impulsive woman a terrible blow and tell her what was in hir mind while still he might be: mis- taken? She saw his hesitation and guessed its meaning, however. “With a cry she covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. ‘Oh, I have gone through so much!” she sobbed. “How can I bear this—how can I bear it!" “Don’t, I beg of you. He may be safe; he—" Christopher had begun to stammer, when there came an im- perative knock at the door. Mrs. Fortescue, trembling, checked her sobs. “I mustn't be seen like this,” she faltered. ‘“Who can it be?” “Probably a detective I have em- ployed,” said Christopher. “Oh, then,” she implored, “let me stop till he is gone. Let me wait be- hind that tall screen in front of the fireplace.” ‘Without waiting for permission, she ran across the room and hid herself. At the same -moment the knock wad repeated, and, rather than seem to delay, with the lady in the room, Christopher called, “Come in.” Again he was surprised. Instead of the little French detective, he saw the man he had pursued to Paris. The man, rather pale but composed, walked quickly into the room and closed the door. “I saw in the Daily Recorder that you would be here, so instead of wait- ing for you to run me down, I thought it would be better to beard you in your den, Mr. Christopher Race,” said the newcomer. For an instant Christopher did not answer. The chauffeur had given his master's name as Fortescue. But was this man really Fortescue or the mur- derer of Fortescue, who had stolen his victim’s identity for some purpose of his own? The doubt was gruesome, since Fortescue's wife was in the room. Christopher glanced involuntarily to- wards the screen, and thought that it quivered. “Well?”" he questioned. “This chase has lasted long enough,” went on the other. “I've been a dou- ble-dyed idiot not to end it in this way long ago; but I hoped, until to- day, that I should be able to slip out of the silly mess without notoriety. Now, rather than have the French police on my back I've sought you out, to be frank with you, as one gentle- man can be frank with agother.” explain the mystery?” said Christo- pher diplomatically. “There is no mystery; there never was any mystery, except what the Daily Recorder made. I was an ass— that's all.” “I'm glad to hear that’s all,” re- torted ‘Christopher. “I suppose you take me for a mur- derer? Certainly I've given you a good deal of trouble, though I've made myself more. It was amusing at first; indeed I'm not sure it wasn't more amusing than otherwise till I met you face to face last night, and— er—put myself to some inconvenience to get out of your way, and prevent the world in general'and one woman in particular from knowing me as an ass. I'm quite aware that, unless you're moved to compassion by my story and hit upon some means of getting me out of the scrape, I shall probably be called for the rest of my days ‘The Blue Motor-Car Idiot,' or something of the sort. If I have a remnant of hope left with a woman 1 love desperately, that would kill it, for already she's put thousands of miles between us for fear of making herself ridiculous.” Again the screen shook. “A woman you love desperately,” echoed Christopher. “She happens to be my wife—or she was once. I want her to be ¢ “You mean you've come to—er—| 7161 again; but if you don’t get me out of this she never will be.” “] am at a loss—" began Christow pher, but his visitor cut him short. “Just wait till I tell you the sloq, and you won't be at a loss. It ism't exciting; it's only silly; too silly to be true. I bought a Hansard car, sec= ond-handed of an alleged friend, and 1 was too much of an amateur to dream he was palming off a regular ‘back number’ on me. Once I got to know something of motors, as I soon did, I wasn't satisfied to go about the world with a thing like that. I'd just sold my last toy—a yacht—with which I'd worked hard at amusing myself for several years, and I wanted a car that was worth having. So I ordered a forty-horse-power Ressler and tried to sell the Hansard. But it was so old-fashioned I co¥ldn't get buyers at any price, though I had her painted up, new gearing put in and gave her new tires. I got tired of paying garage for a car I never used and never meant to use, so the next thing I tried was to give the car away. Not a soul would have her! Who wants to be saddled with an antediluvian? I grew desperate, and | determined to abandon the beastly nuisance somewhere. Needleham was the place I selected. Well, you know what happened. I had to pretend that I was delighted to get the brute back. I began to see that, if I wasn't foxy, she would always be returning on my hands in th: same way, so— being an impulsive, impatient sort of chap—I said to myself, ‘I'll shave off my beard, destroy the number on my car, with all other means of trac- ‘ ing the owner, and send the Hansdrd to Davy Jones' locker. This seemed to me a good joke, and I quite looked forward to seeing in the papers that a lonely automobile had been found putting out to sea. After I had driven on the beach—you know where—as near the water as I could get at that state of the tide, it occurred to me that it would be awkward walking a long distance and then traveling by train in a motor coat and cap. I hid mine¢ where I thought they wouldn't be discovered and make any bother, and went off as fast as I could in the night, wearing another sort of cap which I found in the overcoat pocket. “Naturally I never though\t there’d be such a fuss. My idea was that a few people in the neighborhood would wonder a little, and there might be a paragraph in a local paper. But I forgot the Daily Recorder. When the row did begin I determined to let it burn itself-out, for I didn't want to be cqnspicuous, and if only my Ress- ler had been ready when it was prom- ised, I should have been safely out of England taking a tour I'd planned in France. As it was, I wrote to some chaps I'd tried to sell and give away ‘ the car to, and asked them to keep mum. They were good fellows, so they did. “I thought everything was coming out right till last night, when I stum- bled across you at that inn and recog- nized you as the bloodhound on my track. That's why I whirled away to Dover and caught the boat across. But this morning when I learned in the paper that I hadn’t shaken you oft, I saw the game was up. Now, as a fellow motorist, haven’'t you some sympathy for me, and won't you help me to disappear?” “I might call my dogs off for a bit, and give you time to sail for Canada,” said Christopher. Fortescue started. “Why do you suggest Canada?” “Because—" But the screen did not give Christopher time to finish. It fell with a crash, and a beautiful young woman ran out from behind it “Oh, you darling boy!” she ex- claimed, “if you are going to Canada, take me with you!” That is the reason why the blue motor car has been a mystery until now; why the editor and readers of the Daily Recorder do not now think as highly of the detective ability of Christopher Race as they did at first, and why a large and magnificent yellow Resgler was sold at Dover at a mnrvolo‘ua bargain. Looked Suspiclous. As Widow Watts bent industriously over her washtub, she was treated to polite conversation by a male friend, who pres~ ently turned the conversation on matrie mony, winding up with a proposal of mar- riage. “‘Are ye sure ye love me?” sighed the buxom widow, pausing in her wringing. And the man vowed he dfd. For a few minutes there was a silence ag the widow continued her labor. Then suddenly she ralsed her head and asked him, suspiclously: “You ain’t lost yer job, 'ave yer?"—Chi~ cago News. ——m —621 residents of Ne- braska registered at Hotel Astor during the past year. Single Room, without bath, $2.50 and $3.00 Double $3.50 and $4.00 Sjngle Rooms, with bath, $3.50 to $6.00 Double $4.50-t0 $7.00 Parlor, Bedroom and batb $10.00 to $14.00 “TIMES SQUARE At Broadway, 44th th 1 dn.mtu':z' Itl‘w firfl hudsc‘;; ~o bk o e peciaily 4 i s HOW POLICEMAN SOLVES PROBLEM OF FOOT EASE Policemen, street car men, mall carriers and all others who are on their feet con- stantly, will be Interested in the successful experiment of a Chicago policeman who has solved the question of having comfortable feet. This policeman stands at the intersec- tion of two busy streets, direoting traffic all day. By night his feet used to torment him. He couldn't sleep for the pains and aches they gave him. Then he heard of Wa-Ne-Ta, and now he suffers no more. Two or three of these tablets in a bowl of hot water,a few minutes' bathing, and all the soreness is gone, his feet cool, comfortable, easy and happy. You can use Wa-Ne-Ta with delight- ful effect In your body bath. Leaves skin woft and antiseptically clean. You can get Wa-Ne-Ta from your druggist. It only costs 25 cents. If your druggist hasn't it, we will gladly send you a sample package if you will send us 10 cents to cover cost of packing and malling to your addvess. L. C. Landon Co, South Bend, Ind.