The Seattle Star Newspaper, August 25, 1922, Page 15

SEATTLE STAR PAGE 15 BY AHERN | FRIDAY, AUGUST 25, 1922. Qe RED HO : OUR BOARDING HOUSE OW CLYDE! = ‘SLIP on { STE RY Your SMOKED GLASSES : An! C'MON DOWN. AN’ SEE 0 AAMILNE “TM! HERRING "THAT SES! FLOATED IN! = “HAIL~ CAESAR ARRIVES! AGTHE ROMANS WOULD SAY = WELL BOYS, IF You HAD ONLY WAMTED ANOTHER DAY You COULD HAVE RODE HoME WITH ME IN GOLOMON'S SPLENDOR ~ I CHANCED To BE AT “THe CAMP DEPOT WHEN A SPECIAL “TRAIN CAME IW, AND BLESS MV SOUL IF IT WASN'T “THE PRESIDENT OF “THE ROAD, A VALE CLAGSMATE OF MINE W'B6!~ HOW I CAME WOME I LEAVE “Td You"To SURMISE! GOSH = AN! WERE I HAD FIVE DOLLARS COLLECTED TOWARD TH’ FUND ‘To GET You CRATED BACK Home ! fe: HIGH TIME THE OLD LOAFER. WENT To WORK-INSTEAD OF HANGING ‘ROUND (© Om 2D mee cyan, (Continued From Yesterday) “I could not stop Mark's drinking,” Cayley’s letter went on, “but I kept bim within certain bounds. ‘Yes, I kept him outwardly decent: and perhaps now I was becoming like the cannibal who ps his vic tim in good condition for his own ends. I used to gloat over Mark, thinking how utterly he was mine te ruin as I pleased, financially, morally, whatever way would give me most satisfaction, I had but to take my hand away from him, and he sank. But again I was In no hurry “Then he killed himself, That tu tile little drunkard, eaten up with his own selfishness and vanity, of fered his beastliness to the truest E and purest woman on thts earth. You seen her, Mr. Gillingham, but er knew Mark Abiett. Even had not been a drunkard, there 8 no chance for her of happiness with him, “ ee i “I had known him for many years,|_ bY Jove Cay.” he cried. Te 1 fut never once hed I seen him could How? You must think of a moved by any generous emotion To| "83" iat & a : " have lived with that shriveled little| soit on qunue t_ Reverey tne foul would have been hell for her;| ‘Old you about Mark's ac He Gnd a thousand times worse heli| WS 88 amateur of all the arts, and vain of his little talents, but as an oo, ere, tan Se wap the /20tor he seemed to himself most Ie vone lott to protect her, for her | Wonderful. Certainly he had some Mace wae In lamas with ‘Marke to {bility for the stage, 80 long as he na about her ruin, T would have |2ad the stage to himself und was ; playing to an admiring audience, As jot him openly for her sake, and) 4 professional actor in a small part h what gladness, but I had no ind he would have been hopeless; as an to sacrifice myself needlessly. | .mateur playing the leading part, he vee pee beso Pay [deserved all that the local papers Mattery; surely it would not de aifti.| 84 ever said about him. ult to give his death the appearance| "“AP4 #0 the idea of giving us a 5 ef an accident. pyptear dl eae ae not ogg Saaae “I need not take & professional actress who had made Seis a6 ties wan die Bhp atten fun of him, appealed equally to his rejected. For some days 1 in-| Y*@!ty and his desire for retaliation, | If he, Mark Ablett, by his wonderful | 4 toward an unfortunate boat- ‘accident acting could make Ruth Norris look | t In the pond—Mark, &/ 4, fool in front of the others, could a caaete fre callint cttemme |#Ke her in, and then join in the Lan ban ep. laugh at her afterward, he would (1 "And then he himself gave me the | "dtd have bad s worthy renee 4 Miss “ ‘How Cay, how? he said eagerly. eto Norris between! «weil, I haven't really thought it out,’ I protested. ‘It was just an down his ruffled feathers, She had behaved very badly, but he was quite right; he must try not to show how much he disapproved of And of course she would never come again—that was obvious, And than suddenly I began to laugh, He looked up at me indignantly, “Is there a joke?” he said coldly, laughed gently again “"T wae just think! 1 sald, ‘that it would be rather amusing if you well, had your revenge.” “‘My revenge? How mean?" “Well, paid her back In her own do you coin.’ “"Do you mean try and frighten her?’ “'No, no; but pulled her leg at bit. & foot tn front of laughed to myself again. jolly well right." “He jumped up excitedly. dressed up and Made her look the others.’ I “Serve her SO, , “THE NEW DRESSMAKER WAS Too BUSY To) | SEE MARSHAL OTEY WALKER SOHE™_ RETURNED TO THE TASK OF RUNNING Down THE SUSPICIOUS STRANGER. TODAY 7m BY ALLMAN TOM, DONT SWING HIM SO HIGH! WE'LL FALL Our! OH, HE'S NOT GOING TO GET HURT- - DON'T GET y excreD! ) JUST KNEW THERE'D BE AN ACCIDENT! ‘YES, AND IT WAS Me “MAT Gor IT! ‘He began to think tt out for him. self. “‘I might pretend to be a manager, | come down to see her—bdut I suppose ashe knows them all. What about an interviewer?” = gotng to be difficult,’ T ald thoughtfully. ‘You've got rather a characteristic face, you know. And your beard— “"I'd shave it off,’ he snapped. “My dear Mark! “He looked away, and mumbled, ' ‘T've been thinking of taking {t off, | anyhow. And besides, tf I'm going | to do the thing, I'm going to do it properly.” “Yes, you always were an artist,” 14, looking at him admiringly. ‘He purred. To Le called an artist I thought {t my to warn her that Mark took 4 Yee U4 rs ps mnininile NAS A th. Mery: = WE WANTA KNOW WAY, WITT TMZ QalLQoAD SITUATION AS fT IS, ONCT T GOT You AWAY T MiGhT GCE WUITL © T CONT “THINK, (TS FAIR— ERE DANNY DURES DoD AN' Mom TAUS i Ue Hi if i ue I knew that I had him. “‘All the same,’ I went on, ‘even {without your beard and mustache you might be recognizable. Unless, of course—' I broke off. gentioman. Five minutes playing upon the vanity of the artist settled | his hands. He let the nalis grow and | then cut them raggedly. ‘Miss No! ris would notice your hands at on I had said. ‘Besides, ax an artist-— “So with his underclothes. It was hardly necessary to warn him that} his pants might show above the edge of his wocks; ax an artist he had | already decided upon Robertian pants. T bought them, and other! things, in London for him, Even it} I had not cut out all trace of the| maker's name, he would have in-| stinctively done it. As an Aus-| “"Uniess what? “You pretend to be Robert.’ 1 began to laugh to myself again. ‘By Jove! I said, ‘that’s not a bad idea. Pretend to be Robert, the wastrel brotver, and make yourself objec tionadle to Miss Norris. Borrow money from ner, and that sort of thing.’ “"Robert,’ he sald. | shall we work It? | “There was really a Robert, Mr. Gillingham, as I have no doubt you and the inspector both discovered And he was a wastrel and he went to Australia. But he never came to —AND (® You Ever ------. Now, USTEN TO nes. Teve, YouvS HAD ‘rour SAX, NOW LET —---- ttl Ie ‘By Mabel Cleland ¢ Page 764 DONALD SEES STRANGE THINGS * + H ar. ‘Yes. How * A a “Howdy!” said he. Along the Milky Way came Fiap- Doodle, the fairy, singing, and pretty goon he spied the littie Chinese house Nancy and Nick had bullt. “Hm! said Flap-Doodle, folding back his ears that he'd been flying with, and squinting his eyes. “I'll have to take a look at such an inter- If I like it, I'll stay “I have the Fairy Queen’s wand 3 stole, and I'l! turn the people in- @ae of the house into lead or some- thing heavy. Then they'll fall down out of the sky and I can have the Restless, irritable, nervous, excit- able and exacting is the charge ainst her by those nearest and dearest. How little they realize the struggle the overworked wife and mother is making to keep about and perform the hundred and one duties that devolve upon her! Every hour her headaches, backaches and pains drag her down until she can stand it no longer. Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Compound has restored more women in this condition to health and happiness than any other ine. The grateful letters we continually publishing in this from women who have found by its use prove it, “May I come in?” Tap, tap, tap! he went with his wand on the front door. Instantly Nancy opened it, making @ graceful courtesy as she did so. | She looked so sweet and so strange in her new costume that Flap-Doodie |didn’t know her from Adam's turkey. Wouldn't he have been surprised, though, if he had known sho was the |same little girl he had turned into |a baby-doll a short time before? “Howdy!” said he. “May I come in? I've lost my way and I thought |maybe you had @ road map.” “Certainly! said Nancy with an- other bow. “Come right in, sir, and I'll tell my brother, Nick Oo Ting. My name is Nan Soy. Won't you |have some tea?” “Don't care if I do," answered Flap-Doodle, standing his wand, or |rather the Fairy Queen's wand, in a |corner. Just then Nick came in and they | all sat down and crossed their legs lin Chinese fashion, Nancy and Nick looked at each lother and nodded. At last they were \about to get the Fairy Queen's wand they had come so far to find! Flap-Doodie never suspected a thing, mind you, and picking up his |chop-sticks started to eat rice pud- jding with all hiv might (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 192%, by Seattle Stary the Red House on Tuesday after noon, He coulun’t have, because he died (unlamented) three years ago. But there was nobody who knew this save Mark and myself, for| Mark was the only one of the family left, his sister having died last year. Tho 1 doubt, anyhow, {f she knew whether Robert was alive or dead. He was not talked about. “For the next two days Mark and | 1 worked out our plans. You under. | stand by now that our aims were not identical. Mark's endeavor was that his deception should inst for, | say, a couple of hours; mine that 1t| | should go to the grave with him. He had only to decetve Miss Norris and | the other guests; I had to deceive | the world “When he was dressed up as Robert, I was going to kill him Robert would then be dead, Mark (of course) missing. What could any- body think but that Mark had kilied Robert? But you see how important |it was for Mark to enter fully into his latest (and last) impersonation. Half-measures would be fatal. “You will say that it was impos. | stble to do the thing thoroly enough. | I answer again that you never knew Mark. He was being what he | wished most to be—wan artist, No} | Othello ever blacked himself all over | with such enthusiasm as aid Mark His beard was going anyhow—pos- |sibly a chance remark of Miss Nor- bury's helped him. She did not like beards, But it was important for me that the dead man’s handa should not be the hands of a manieured | Norris, tralian and an artist, he could not have an East London address on his underclothes. Yes, we were doing the thing thoroughly, both of us; he as an artist, I as a—well, you may swy murderer, if you lke. I shall not mind now “Our plans were settled. I went to London on the Monday and wrote him a letter from Robert. (The artis. tlc touch again.) I also bought a revolver. On the Tuesday he announced the arrival of Robert at the breakfast-table, Robert was now alive—-we had six witnesses to| prove it; six witnesses who knew that he was coming that afternoon. Our private plan was that Robert should present himeelf at 3 o'clock, in readiness for the return of the golf. ing-party shortly afterward. “The maid would go to look for Mark, and having failed to find him, come back to the office to find me entertaining Robert in Mark's ab sence. I would explain that Mark must have gone out somewhere, and | would myself introduce the wastrel brother to the tea-table. Mark's ab: sence would not excite any comment, for \t would be generally felt—indeed Robert would suggest it—that had been afraid of meeting his brother. Then Robert would make himself amusingly offensive to guests, particularly, of course, until he thought that joke had gone far enough. “That was our private plan. Per. haps I should say that {t was Mark's private plan, My (Concluded Tomorrow.) | a ud The very world seemed to crumble as Molly heard Billy order the driver to stop in their race to save—per- haps—Ben Wheeler's life. “Oh, Billy, Bitly—don't fall me!’ | Billy dropped back into his seat | and waved the chauffeur to go on— | “and hurry," ’ WHOM SHALL MOLLY MARRY? BY ZOE BECKLEY NO. 20—"STOP OR I'LL SHOOT” It was Billy who broke the ten- sion. “Well, what did you expect of me, Molly? Isn't !t more than for me to break my neck try save a man who's breaking m “Yex, Billy, it certainly is.” human ng to Wear -«, mews of woul was in her voive, A morning } he| the | Miss | the | own was different. | |] “You see," mother-dear went right on talking, because it was a nice, long story she had to tell and she wasn't a bit tired, “Mr, |] McInnis was such @ boy that he |] had had no business experience at |} ail, and he felt quite grateful when an older man said to him one day: “1 say, MeInnis, I wouldn't be too quick about selling my po- tatoes if I were you. You've got a good crop and the California crop’s awful short this year. I'd hold out for a big price if I were you.’ “Mr. McInnis ald that atrange- ly enough Dungeness really con- trolled the potato market in San Francisco then, and the more he thought about what the man had said the more he thought that was a pretty good scheme to work, and the smaller the 45 cents a bushel, which had been offered for his potatoes, looked to him, “So he held his potatoes,” mother-dear looked at daddy just then with a teasing twinkle in her eye, and said, “you didn’t hear this story, dear. Maybe you would better listen; it might help you later on—about wheat and things, lthethel ik “Donald held his potatoes for a big price, and--and—sold them much later for 16 cents a bushel instead of 45, and had to take that in lumber, “Maybe he felt pretty much broken up over it then,” mother- dear said, “but now he says the Jesson was worth all it cost. He hasn't tried to gamble in futures since. “He took that lumber which he had received as his only pay for a long hard year’s work and built | himself a little house, a house with a floor and a window and whatever comforts a pioneer tad needed, About four years later he was located about two miles from the Indian village of Jamestown, “Those were the days when the Indians were still talking of the awful battle which had taken place on the long spit at Port Angeles. When the Neah Bay In- dians had come, slipping down from the North in their wicked black war canoes, and had sur- prised the Clallams in their peace- ful camp, and nearly wiped out the tribe, killing all the men and taking the women and children for sl s lo saw strange things, awful things there at that Indian vil- lage, things which they never in- tended he should see.” (To Be Continued) errand “T suppose T expected a bit of bis- |ness from someone. I'm so tired of everybody hating everybody.” “And I, being the aggrieved one, | | must be a better Christian than the | man who smites sme!" “Not because you're the aggrieved one, but because you're the more civilized, Billy—the finer and big- | wer. The half-spoken reproach ended their personal talk, Billy kept the silence of bitterness. Molly did not feel contrite | c cab swung into the yards of! the Wheeler Works and stopped at the door of the main office just as another taxi rolled off. “Don's heref cried Molly, eyes wide with fright, Together they hurried Ben's private office, Molly opened the door and stepped in, Billy behind her. Ben Wheeler looked up sharply, “Ben, has Donald Manning been here?” Molly asked breathlessly, Ben shook his head, His eyes were cold and puzzled, “Then see to It—leave word out side that he's not to be admitted Please, Ben!’ She knew her man, her toward A CISTEN “To out! Don't wnteeevPrt ! SEGMS To HE A PERSON OF YouR AGS Would KNOW ENOUGH To O8SCRVE Te RUCES OF GONVERSATION IIL _— =} “CONVERSATION — wemT'S A Meg) 7 NOnd.vosus F “And why?" “Because—oh, because he's furious means to hurt you, maybe—" Ben chuckled in derision, “What's this, a comic scene? I'd look funny, weight 190, telling my watchman to keep out a lady-like young gentleman for fear he'll hurt me!" “Weight won't stop a bulkt, Wheeler,” Billy snapped, Do as she tells you, you vain fool,’ Wheeler whirled toward Billy. “I suppose you were let in be- cause you were with Molly, Well, you can go now—get out before iw wetter “Oh, Ben, stop!” rose to a shriek of desperation. hear—" “It's only II" And Molly strangled a cry as Don Manning appeared tn the doorway and closed the door behind him, One band, the right, was in his coat pocket, almost jauntily, With the other he motioned Molly and Billy aside, Ben stepped toward him, jerking his head doggedly, | “Stop where you are! cried Dom, “unless you want me to shoot.” (Yo Be Contnived) Wopyright, 1922, by Seattle Stas) A Molly's volee “L