The Seattle Star Newspaper, September 21, 1921, Page 11

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1921. “PAPER By RUBY + eeeeeeee: An Rights (Centinued From Yesterday) CHAPTER VIII Biunt had been uneasy in his mind QU the evening: he bad pottered bout between the front door and the | Ditler’s pantry, unable to settle to @hything since the moment when, on Bis way back from the village to/ which he had been sent to dispatch Rorie’s telegram, he had seen his master racing along the dark | toward Alperton. “The smal! car had passed him lke and been swallowed up in darkness hoot pRSE2465 425 i, @ a ¥ with a low-toned, warn) was generally giad to divest) of his well-fitting livery and tracks for bed, but tonight he unusually wideawake | he went down to the stable ire if Mr. Rorie had come| and both times he had found | under-groom slumbering in the! stall, which had been cleared @Ut to accommodate Roderick's car “Late most nights now, that ‘e is,” fhe lad grumbied when Bluat woke ‘Bhim up with an ungentle hand to ask | Question. “Frings the car back) tm mud, that he does, ’ awful job to clean. Give *orses, every time.” Btunt cuffed his ears with dignity. ‘The under groom had large ears, and ‘they could stand a good deal of 3 but he hated Btunt, and he 4 behind a ladder which led to “E | ® loft above, and revenged himself & grimacing. Blunt returned to the house. The Big clock in the hall was chiming 3 ight; the other servants had since gone to Bed: from the Hop of the stairs the grim portrait | “9f Rorie’s father stared down with | @ eyes on the empty ball. Blunt felt an unusual sense of ; He stirred the smolder fire into ®laze, and went into the oom to peer thru the curtains the darkness. ow the leaves were off the trees could see quite a long way down | road toward the village, but was no sign of the big head-| of Rorte’s car, and Blunt had d away with a resigned shrug! his pompous shoulders, when a ip knock resounded thru the! opened it a cautious inch. | “Who's there? he demanded. | thout exactly knowing Why, his phts flew to the hunchback who | prowled abort the house all day; it was the voice of young Briton” him. | me, Blunt; let me tn.” THE DOINGS OF THE DUFF ANOTHER BOX - OF CIGARS, EH? be ROSES” M. AYRES Reserved sopeeeceeecoocees He eyed Blunt with a sort of susp! clon, “Why the devil shoulin't I walk home if I like?" he demanded sutlenty. Blunt stared. The thought crossed his mind that Mr. Rorte was either mad or—his dignity hesitated to frame the obvious word—"drunk.” Rorie kicked off his boots and walked heavily toward the stairs. He seemed to have forgotten Blunt; he clung to the balusters as he went. At the top he turned and looked back at the man below. “Damn ft all, man, what are you staring at me for™ he asked irrit ably. “Go to bed” + “Yea, Mr. Rorte.” | “And Blunt-—you needn't aay any thing about this—about my coming home like this, I mean. I've had a shock, Blunt—a bad shock.” “I'm very sorry, Mr. Rorte; very | ARE You “Well, go to bed.” But Blunt stood motion’ at the foot of the stairs tll he heard the door of young Briton’s bedroom stam. Rorte fel asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. He had net believed it possible that he could ever sleep again, but he was worn out with emotion, | When he awoke, pale autumm sun. shine streamed into the room. He sprang out of bed in a sort of panic For a moment he had forgotten last night"s tragedy; he remembered only that he had arranged to meet Row Me at daybreak—that he had booked two berths in @ boat sailing in the afternoon. He snatched at bis watch; ft was § o'clock. Then, with a sudden rush, he remembered; he groaned aloud. His head was splitting: he felt as if he had just dragged thru a long iltnem. His clothes tay in a tumbied, muddy heap on the floor, where he had flung them. A little distance from them a crumpled paper rose made a splash of color in the #un- shine. More clearly than anything, the aight of it brought back last night with all its horror—the sodden | field, the crowd of people, the yellow Mare of the lights. And Rosalie, as she had looked when she saw him/ first—the faint Mush on her cheeks, | the glad lght im her eyes. In im-! told you a ie yeaterd at least, wes leading you to belleve tn a lie when you t me the condition of my father’s will.” Mr. Fergerson made no comment but his eyes grew suddenly alert Rorte lifted bis head with a sort of Gesperate defiance, “You told me that the condition of my inheritance was that I am up married. Well, I can’t fulfil the con dition. I am married? “abr Old Fergerson looked at the young haggard face. “To—Miss Fane? he asked. Rorte winced. t “No” his eyes to shut out her face as it) O14 Fergerson drew a chatr for had been afterwards when ft restea! ward and sat down beside him. For 0 helpleasly against the hunchback® | q moment he rested his hand kindly shoulder. | on Rorie’s, then: Dead! Dead! And they had parted) “Suppose you tel me all about tt.” in bitterness, She would never know he said. now how sorry he had been. He| tories blundered tnto tpcoherent, would never be able to make ft up to| inted speech: her. “She was @ litte gtrt tn a cirous— He picked up the Mttle rose and she did a trapese act. I hardly knew locked It away in @ Grawer. her. The day my father died there forced bimeelf to dress and jwes & traveling show in the village. stairs. He was patnfuly I went—tor something to do, I sup- of Blunt's sympathetic pose—and saw @ bully knocking her about I interfered, and I—talked to her afterward. She was only 18, and ft was a dog’s life to see her again—I thought I could Then—then when I got home the guv’nor was dead. The cir |eus moved on the next day, and I didn’t see her aguin—at least, not till after the will was read. I wrote to— y | beggar and—and all the rest of it. Well, sheo—threw me over. I told you. I suppose I went mad for the | time—there didn’t seem to be a soul | in the world who cared a damn about me now I was down and out. . . I found out where the show was, and went over to see—Rosalie! She was was an intolerable ef- kind to me—and—I can’t explain WELL,IT'S AN EXPENSIVE ANOTWER BOX? WHAT TALKING ABouT? TMS IS THE FIRST BOK VE BOUGHT IX Two Pop IS HIS SEATTLE STAR Now Take That! DANNY, WILL You GO OUT IM “THE. KITCHEN ANO GET YOUR HENPECKED DADDY A MATCH? HABIT ~ SEED Good FoR ANYTHING ? @oop Mo eR SAS NIng, MY NAME US EVERCTT TRUE, AND t Came IN To TALK OCR Soms GUSINGSS, AND —— <+~ ‘ Ps —TU 89S AS | Mise Fane—telling ber that I waa a/ BY CONDO BRIGCF AS” wy \ « 1 MIGHT SUGGEST ‘THAT IF SMOKE SO You DIDN'T MUCH PERHAPS COULD HAVE A NEW A BIT SURPRISED, | THE CRAZY QUILT 2 Y 7 SAN WINTER ® GINE ME A STRAW WITH THISH NUTMEG SODA! = —— rs oe . WANE GETTING & SHAVE, He THouc: HE WAS IWAN ICE CREAM PARLOR « TAG. 7 'SPUNNY STOOD aT YAS, AND ECONOMICAL WITH YouR CLOTHES AS EVE HAVE A STEAM YACHT. py mais PAGE 11 BY ALLMAN IF YoU WERE AS 1 couLDd t THATS" FUNNY— IGOT THA SEED BY AHERN WaT me NEVER DID THAT BEFORE = Bis wer Lew OFF I -THE PARK, AND We "Saw! (T RUN UP A TREE® Zn a PxrRionc MooD, HE ATTENTION WHILE A MERCHANT PULLED BP HIS AWNING = | WHEN A WOMAN TELLS By RUTH AGNES ABELING (Copyright, 191, by Beattie Star.) CHAPTER XLI—PHILIP AMES COMES TO THE PARTY Dyn ably SI Wi WNs are Stallle _. + * at any cost, Rorte felt| why I did jt—but . . . but I asked Bient from suspecting her to marry me, and go abroad with |me, and/let ws start again. She'd was, Mr. Rorte” cot twice the grit and pluck thet I imaginary crumbs | had—ehe made me feel ashamed of tablecloth. “I ‘ear, Mr. tmaving whined to her. So... so that she was the wife of that we got married; nobody knew. I what's been hanging meant to tell you directly after. honse.” | wards, but you took the wind out of Rorte started to his feet; his white my salle by telling me about the, face was crimeon. “It's a damned other will turning up. That did tt. I) He.” he said furtousty. {let you go on believing everything Blunt looked amazed. “Mr. Rorie™ | was all right. I had some fool's idea) His nerves of bushing it up—buying Rosalie off; of a hys|I felt I could never bear to be poor. | There's nothing | only a bit—knocked | away. ye those , " clenched his| I went off to see her, and told her—I hands to keep himself from doing or don’t know what I said—I know I mying something outrageous. behaved like a brute and acad She “It's not true, anyway,” he saif,|—oh! I can’t tell you. She left me tn a voice of forced calm. “It’s not to go and do an extra turn—I was to, true, The cir! was married, but not see her afterwards—and—and—" = | to the hunchback. Don’t forget to) Rorie’s voice broke. “There was| send for the car.” lan accident.” He went on hoursety. | He escaped from the room; an “She fell from that cursed trapeze. hour later he was tn London. | At least, they said it sras an acct He took « taxi, and gave the arty. | dent: but—oh, my God! I believe she er ola Pergerson’s addreas at Kil-| id it purposely. She pnce said that burn; he felt as if he would never| !f ever I was sorry for having mar. be happy any more till he had made ried her—or ashamed of her—that a clean breast of the whole story. | he would kill herself—kill herself." The tragedy of Rosalle’s death | He broke off jaggedly and sat star. had bit him hard. If only she had|'ng bfore him with haunted eyes | died before he had seen her, earlier, “) ‘\poor boy? | lin the evening, it would have been| Old Fergervon stretched a kindly | easier to bear; but ever since the mo-| hand to him; hie eyes were full of | ment when the hunchback had told | Shocked pity Grace studied Lila a minute “I don't believe she needs a | doctor,” she said. “Get her to bed | and make her rest—ghe’ll be all right * _ By Mabel Cleland» ene Page 474 \shoruy. I've seen them that way |many a time.” THE HAIR TRUNK | Once more, within 24 houra we put Lila between the covers of her “Perry.” called David, “I for. atreel They were about to try bed. on While I gnthered up her clothing et ee Se Oe ee ee © Tland straightened up her rodm, Grace Lat’s go out te the hammock and “Then he thought up a scheme in her little white cap and apron | al a wae jover her black gown, was giving her | you a story older than lor himself. ‘was pretty Portland er Fort Vancouver or| serious business to be called a anything traitor and he had to be mighty smelling salts and stirring a hot/ drink which she insisted upon the “It's about a Mtfle old trunk| careful what he anid, but he did that's tm the museum over at/ a tit of thinking and he got could partey with those cooks and get me a chicken wing to munch on —you're on pretty good terms with | the despots out there” John Ames was really joking. (To Be Continued) “I wouldn't spoil your dinner even (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle, Stas) SOV Oe OF EMEL woman, the second mo- and the third is change of A Most of the misery which ‘comes to women: through il health ‘dates from one or another of these ? is, but women should remem-| that Lydia E. Pinkham's Vege table Compound i* a reliable rem- ly and has been very successful in ping the ailments which may to them at-these times, as it ™ natural restorative for such ns. Nearly half a century of entities Lydia E. Pink- | woman drinking. “Just a nervous chil}—emotiona! | collapse,” she said. “Keep her warm jana let her sleep and she'll be ready | | for the dinner tonight—even hun- Young Briton started to his feet. Vegetable Compound to the and confidence of every minded woman—Advertise i= _ | How to Have Pretty, | Natural Looking Curls Straight. lank hair is becoming to t few women, and there's no ex- ge now for anyone looking homely unkempt on that account. Those who have foresworn the curling iron fuse of the damage it does by ipying cand breaking the hair will be gia? to hear that the simple sil- 7 method will produce a far iter and prettier effect, without iy injurious result whatever. If just s small quantity be applied with ‘clean tooth brush before doing up 4 the hair, the loveliest natural look- Ing curls and waves will be in evi- e in three hours, and there will nothing streaky, sticky or greasy ' ‘ + d it. A few ounces of liquid silmerine, tainable at any drig store, will ‘ea welcome addition to many a ing table. It is best applied by *T ling the hair into strands and img each of them separately rom roo! to vy effect w je time. yes Inflamed? If your eyes are inflamed, weak, or overworked; if they ache; if Kicture shows make them feel dry strained, get a bottle of Bon- Dpto tablets from your druggist, olve one in a fourth of a glass water and use as an eye bath om two to four times a day. Bon: allays inflammation, invigor- tones up the eyes. Doctors say Bon-Opte strength- tip. The beautiful ill ast for @ consider- 50% in & week's time, in, Advertisement, dpstances,—. oe tm she was dead, he had been un-| able to remember anything except the hard, selfish things he had said to her. All that he stood te lose by com | teasing to old Fergerson seemed 10 count now at all. Tragedy had laid a heavy hand on his shoulder | He felt that he had aged years in a single night. | Old Fergerson was breakfasting. | | He took life easily; he had worked hard for 40 years, and now he let |somebody else do the early rising, “It drives me mad to think of !t.*/ he said, hoarsely, “It was I who sent her to her death; God knows I'd) give 10 years of my life if I could) undo it.” There was a long eilence. “And why have you tald me all this, Roderick?” asked Mr. Ferger- son, then. Rorie laughed wretchedty. “Why? So that you can put things right. ‘The money isn’t mine lawfully. tions of the will, and I am giad of It I sh&ll go abroad as soon as I can. I can't fulfill the condl-| ‘Tacoma, and I think I can re member f all right, but if I don’t you can ask sbout i next time you're thers, ‘cause its an awfully true story. “I know I've got the main facts straight “In 1812 there was a young Engtish saflor who was thinking everything that belonged to him and packed it in that very Iittle oid trunk that we saw and then he was ready. “He found a big board and he shoved tt in the water.” “What water™ Pegry asked, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, his company was camped on the St. | and keep late hours at the office for I don’t much care what becomes of a whole lot about America and he him; he was merely an ornamental jand capable “head” of the | which his own endeavors had placed| The old lawyer looked at htm quiz- on so sure a footing. sically. He was such a mixture of Rorie was shown into the erry) weakness and strength—this boy | ttle room immediately; old Fergur- | #it—+so handsome eyes of his but | son was a good sort. He had every terfly mother and the square deter- intention of trying to make a friend | mined jaw of old Briton. Mr. Fer. firm | me—now!”* of this son of his dead client. “Well, Roderick?” he asked kind- yy. He rose to his feet, dropping his serviette to the table. He came for- ward with outstretched hand, then stopped. “What is it™ he asked) anxiously. “Are you ill? What ls it, my boy?” His voice and eyes were concerned. Roderick bit his Ip hard. He sat| down in a chair by the table, and) leaned his throbbing in bis! hands. “I'm sorry to trouble you so earty,” he «aid, disjointedly, “But—sinee last night—the whole world seems to have turned upside down, Mr. Fer- | gerson. I--I don't know where to begin.” “There is no burry,” said the elder man, quietly. “Take your time. Can I offer you anything?” “Do, thank you. It’s just this, 1! t |his fingers thru his thick, gerson was not sure that this Nttle tragedy might not be a good thing for him; it would, at least, teach him & severe lesson. “What do you mean—that the money is not lawfully yours? he asked slowly. Rorle stopped in his agitated atria ing up and down the room. He ran hair. There was something very young Afd hoyish-looking about him at that moment, “How can it be, if T aim married?” he asked impatiently. “Because she, my—my wife, is dead, it does not unmarry me, does it? Hin voice broke a little: anguish and remorse stabbed his heart as he thought of Romalie’s happy eyes and flushed face, If he had loved her, he could hardly have suffered more acutely. There is no passion so strong as that of remorsg brown | t deciied that he wanted to be an |] American ‘cause he believed the || Yankees were in the right. |] “Ele played the fife in his com- |] pany and be was awfully young. “Hie tried to tel! his friends how he felt and asked ‘em to let him Lawrence river, and he put the trunk on the board and swam across the river to the American Bide. “They shot and shot at him, but didnt get him and seon as he an‘t share At 5 o'clock I slipped back into the darkened room where earlier in the afternoon I had left Lila Ames sleeping. She was still in bed and ‘lying quite motionless. I was abovt to withdraw. “I'm em she said brightly; “come in.’ I marveled at the brightness of her voice—perhaps she had forgot ten, I thought. | “Get out my prettiest things,” she | was saying, “from the skin out! And a: |] go over to the American aide (he |] was tn Canada, you know}, but no landed, he jumped out and played ‘Yankee Doodle’ at them. “That man’s grandson ts our own Mr. Bonney of Seattle.” | apeeeatenesenenencnomninomnen © % 8 te fi “But you were not married til) after your father’s death, Roderick,” said Mr. Fergerson, quietly. “1 know, but—" “Your inheritance dates from the moment your father died,” the elder man explained, gravely. “That is not altered because the will was found later. You inherited your father’s wealth the moment he ceased to live. Surely you understand that? You ‘were not married then, I take ft? “No. I was not married until yes- terday.” Rorie’s yoloe sounded dazed, : “Then,” . aid Mr. Fergerson, “the money is yours. The will made no condition as to your subsequent mar. Young Briton stared; the faint color ebbed slowly from his face. “You don't mean that she—Rosalie— would bave—would have—made no difference™ he asked with diffi- culty. “She could have made no differ. ence whatever,” said old Fergerson, | had gently. (Continued Tomorrow) San ary stay and help me dress—bring your own things in here apd we'll talk.” | Lila, in her shimmering violet- | pray, looked like lilacs in the dusk. | 1 was wearing fame—a dress that | had gone thru with me the last part jof that mad whirl which brought forth the letter from Tom Bradford and a complete change in my future. “You know—I don’t think Phil | meant so much this morning after all,” she said happily. “I think he must have been in a bad mood—or maybe he had some business affair | on bis mind.” I was glad that she had come around so nicely and was in perfect condition for the evening—but I had | a vague feeling of unrest in regard to Phil. I felt that her confidence was unfounded. I went downstairs to see how mat- ters were progressing, In the library was John Ames. He was dressed for dinner and then I knew that both sides of the family were going to be frivolous that night, instead of just one, as Lila indicated was usually the case. “I'm hungry,” he announced, as [1 neared him, “Do you suppose you “Goodness!” : gasped Nancy when Loppy’s voice came from the rock, “Goodness gasped Nancy when Loppy Lobster’s voice came out of the big gray rock beside them. “We thought you were looking at us from your house in the sea-weed. Who was it, then? Loppy was quiet a minnte and then the Twins heard a chuckle. “What did the person look like?” he asked. “Was he green and very handsome?" “He was green all right,” said Nick, “but not very—not very—" He stopped. If Loppy’s temper was as sharp as his claws it might be just as well not to disturb it. “Handsome!” Loppy helped him out. “Why don't you say it? Well, handsome ts as handsome does, you know, besides I'm not sensitive. An- other besides—why should I care if you think somebody else isn't hand- some?" Nick was just about to say that he supposed all lobsters looked alike, when he remembered his errand. “I can't waste so much time talk- ing,” said he suddenly, “Cap'n Pen- nywinkle wants you because you were fighting Jimmy Jellyfish.” “I wasn't!’ denied Loppy. “He in my way and I slipped on him. told him to move and he wouldn't, so I tried to pick him up. I coulén’t help it when he nearty fell to pieces.” “Oh? exclaimed Nancy. “Wad'that it? Well, you'd better come along and tell’ Cap'n Pennywinkle all about it." “I can't come!" declared Loppy. “Why?” . “I'm growing?” “Humph! So are we,” said Nick, “But we go places.” “But you're different,” said Loppy, “I only grow once a year, and when jI_do I take take my hard skin off. ‘That was my shell you saw beck there, Please tell Cap'n Penny winkle that TU go in six days. IT shall put my new shell on, go out without it, some big fish eat me. I'm hiding.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle Stas