The evening world. Newspaper, March 29, 1909, Page 15

OOO reese © Story of Vengeance -A TO0OD SOOO OdOK [OOO OOO TOOOOnO The Long Arm of Mannister. OOK xe Oot one ed Husba DOOOOOOUOOOUUO! ZC rong own His Fight Enemies an strong enough, I lave no stren: We have been very foolish, We should have waited In t There it td been man to man th left.) ne He sat on his horse looking from one He was a man of some | to the other, | thing apparently less than middle age, with smooth fair halr and face, which uve By E. Phillips Oppenheim. at least, Now Lam broken. [ cannot | the hand of time seemed to have treated (Copyright, 1908, by Little, Brown & Co) | the landscape, He saw it and pointed. ! strike a blow. I cannot even kill myselt | kindly, Only a sudden and very terrible |e effort of stretching out his hand| 1 cannot kill you. T have no strength light flashed In hiv eyes as he looked CHAPTER I. overbalanced him. He fell In a heap| left. This fligh. by mght and 1 downward at tho woman, a light whleh ies} Ah Kt on the rough roadway, and for a mo-| has robbed me of it. It was fo / lingered, however, but for that single The Noxious Gift, |iuent lay atill, Her pony also halted,| She turned her face to the second, and passed away leaving his OOK behind—once more, the! trembling in every Hmb, ,his forelegs | with a little sob. whole expression nonchalant, almost un- disturbed, woman gasped, stooping a lit-! panted outward, his nose close to the] “I will hold my breath and die," sh ai aie ies tle fonts ‘ le, & aa declared, “He shall not see me like Upon ny ners, perabeery ees Cees Even with that slight movement she! leaned down toward him, | this.” ing his left hand lightly upon his swayed and almost fell, ie man's | aston,” she cried feebly, “are you] The man stared at her dully. What horse's flank, “Lam distressed to haye hand supported her—he only knew with) hurt?” did jt matter, the rents in her gar- Dee eDencause, of so much suffering. what an effort. | Hie rose to his feet, and as he did so| ments, such trifles in the presence of |You have been unreasonable, my dear ‘There !s no one In sight,” h tered, but he did not look. was sick with the accumulated fear of these awful months, | turned away from the direction whence they had come. | dust from his rags of clothing, and he no kept his head stu-| death, Ife shook the Gaston, to force o lady into undertaking fourney such as this fow words with youthat was all I asked. Surely {t was not worth while to have given mo all this nie, and to have put and he of a He was a stupid fellow, the measure a had never gauged woman's vanity ‘The speck in the distance grew more t They stumbled on again—a weary,! gathered the reins once more Into Mis) distinct, the cloud of dust larger, Then pein LDR heart-sickening procession, The wom | ands, Of his hurts, If he had received | there came to the man a last access of gureelycs o me n neo va iy ; RY an's eyes were half closed, her cheeks} any, he took No more notice than al strength, a strength wholly artificial, Mea PACH CIE en arouse conteas ie 8 were as pale as death, her black h dumb animal, | begotten of the terror which lay like jstate of your wardrobe eae ma: was powdered with dust, her clothing! yme on," he gasped, "There 48) ice upon his heart. He plucked at the Her shoulders shook, but she did not soiled and worn, She rode a small| wooded country ahead, We may find| woman and half helped, halt pushed look up, Mexican pony, itself in the last stage) shelter. Come!" |her upon the waiting pony “And you, too, my dear Gaston, he of exhaustion, By her side, foot, | th his left hand locked in the reins, | the man staggered along, In her face| was the white numbness of c “Lo » directed, Nov he answered, shivering “Look behind-- wish it," she insisted. It is better to know,” on behind," s spalr, the “He will catch us! He ts here at last, | Christine,” he Jabbered, “We must get | |to the wood, Perhaps we can hide, and! | strike him down when he ts looking for | continued, sitting stil easily upon his horse and lighting a cigarette, “I must confess that It pains me to see you In such guise. We met last—I think that d Cru ODOC DODHBODOS Dot 000000000 withdrew one foot from its stirrup. “Hold on to this," he directed. will ride carefully,” Tt was barely a hundred yards to the border of the wood, but more than once the man faltered, and almost collap: When at last they reached thelr destt- nation the sudden change from the da ziing sunlight to the cool darkness of thick trees was too much for him, He groped for a moment like a drunken man, then staggered forward and fell. Mannister stooped down and dragged him to his feet. For a moment he held him at arm's length, studying him with all the immeasurable contempt of éhe brave man for a proved coward, Then he placed him on a fallen log with his back to a tree trunk, “Don't shake so, man," he sald, feel- Ing In his pocket and producing a flask, ‘Drink some of this. It will give you the sort of courage you need," Gaston Sinclalr grabbed at the flask, a sudden gleam of desire flashing tn his glazed eyes, His nerveloss fingers failed utterly to loosen the stopper. Mannister leaned over and took the flask from the hand which still clung almost "y I March 29, 190Y, CODDOGOHHDOHHOHOHDHOHBIHHOHTOHOOOOOHs shes Them One by One ODO 00000000000 000000000 ting up on the roadside, her head burleg, tn her hands, her attitude, notwith: standing her soiled and dishevelled clothes, reminiscent of @ former subt! and notable elegance, The man's face remained unchanged, but his fingers aug into the dark of the fallen tree on whicl_ This woman had been his they sat, She had lain in his arms, her_ wit ps against his, her passionate whisper- ing lke wonderful musio in his ears, She had been his—she had loved him for a while at any rate—perhaps ev: now! And she had drought him into} the shadow of the greatest trag which men and women have woven out! of the loom of life. She had left hii for this creature by his side; left hin, and he had become that most pitlable object on the face of the earth—a fore saken husband. Yet he felt no an for her—Iittie even for the poor compat fon of her filght, Understanding h come to him during the long nights a! wonry days of his wonderful chase, Uj and down the world, across continent and seas, through great cities and acrot | the desert places he had followed them, his hand ever stretc¥ed out, until the! passionately to It, "You shall have your drink," he sald, “Don't be afratd, dTere!" fear which never left them had becom: a living thing, and thetr journeying nerveless, hysterical filght. He had left despair which takes no count of living; Slowly he turned his head, There was/us, { have a stone in my pocket I it was at the Cavalry Club, the day) 4 turn of his strong, stnewy fingers|them no peace, no respite, When In terrors. In his the shadow of an awful) little room for expression left In his| picked up. It {8 sharp—sharp as aj | young Pennant tried to wear a roll col- ana the Stopper was out. He poured | some out of the way corner of the world fear remained, His eyes were glazed. face, but she saw the slow dilation of| knife! If T could get behind him’— jar with a dress coat. IT rememb ur some of the brandy Into @ silver cup|they had fancled themselves secure for and framed in deep black rims. His) his eyes, tle animal drop of his jaw.| The woman shivered, but she suffered remarks upon the oceasion, seathing and held It out to the other man, a time, a telegram had been handed to mouth was open like a do: trembled as he ran, On He stood as one turned to stone, gaz- back along the way by which they the woman understood , his Kner woman had turned her ng him come, As last. The man ran, breathing lke a of the person, It grieves me to see you had shivered. He her of one long sigh and slipped) crazy machi and with face almost | like this, Gaston, Is that indeed a shirt, one of those pra 3 Into saddle, mercifully unconscious, tack, And in thelr hearts they both Tha ran nant eretrWhiChnvaumaranalllt whose carcass the bul he last did not need her, His eyes were Know that it was useless, Thelr pur- j wearing! And, my dear fellow, pardon cartridg tver had found its upon that speck !n the dis-| guor was only cantering his horse, and |me, but your feet and hands—every way. If her yuld have borne the) tance, a cloud of dust, a man on horse- | he wa ning at every stride. Down er-nall gone, I declare. I am effort, she would have smiled at the| back, Curlously enough, his most pol- | the wind came the sound of his voice, hamed to ask you, but upon my word fdea that it w r love © man | Knant feeling Was one of relief, It Was the yolce of the untired man who, j—when did you take a bath last?" that she lat vay r life,! tha end at last then, the end of a chase triumphs, | | je man called Gaston staggered to The terror of this Ung chase had surely more terrible than any since the «Gently, my frlends, gently! Do you, hiv feet, With the poor remnants of his | eaten the man! He had days when itself was born. see that it {s I, Mannister, who strength, he threw himself against his | irage, He reyes for a moment, is? Why do you hurry so?” 1 persecu his nervous, bony fingers followed 1° alse of the joned | Over on his face went the hunted locked around the stone which was his hunted aniy to flee, He wor fet man repeated, as one man nerveless, and stricken with a new only weapon. It was after all but a and trousers only, his socks had ¢ 1 the time to a stranger. fear at the scund of that mocking | | pitiful effort, ‘The newcomer touched | his fect were t ough ted to the revolver In his belt, | voice, The pony stopped and swayed }t with the spur, and his as- in his rent shoes h ul, She remembered | _coiapsing rather than falling In the| | sailant rolled in the dust eelf bravely et nce s EEE OCONEE OE rough way, The woman lay there with | “Get up, my friend,” the former re- | world, 5 cup of Iseult had me some other way her face to the earth and her arms | | marked pleasantly, looking downward. touched hi 5 stretched out. The man commenced to | "You 1 1 must have our little con- ING in f blu T could not,” ered. "Iam not | together, I suppose. Let us THE NEW PLAYS In “‘Sham"’ Henrietta Crosman Is a Bare- Faced Beggar. BY CHARLES DARNTON. HE woman who grafts a 5 er anything else that Tp happers 9 ssur has something | more to ted grafter, Katherine Van Ri in “Sham, that brought Miss Henrletta Cros- man out of v « Everybody at Wallack Miss an again that even the | 5 eir prayers, were willing to doubt to complete forgiveness, It {s | he short of money on S day night—and r was so hard up that she was ed to go through the greater ps sympathetic ew a number of Mr. Elmer natural to gi “making a to cateh a woman, ng she could ned of herself, wa in her t so that they palm at the expense of a erner who loved her from tom of his pocketbook, His gul- father automobile at feet when im how fate d her to get she could with hired treet It pained him ox} perched te places cahs and vulgar to hear that she graced a friend's at the opera one night and the top gallery the next, She got a lamp from a Scotchman by him see her in a poor light that for her to wear un- e she bent over th-eaten furs n before open- ocratio rela- ack of a div: door to her a A new set Miss CROSMAN a3 KATHERINE £0. DURAND 43 d'EAUVILLE tives so that they might be the shocked into buying her These tricks 4f Katherine's trade went to make up the most entertaining part ing of the play. But for Miss Crosman’s light-hearted charm and refreshing somedy you would have despised her, Uniike Lady Frederick, she was not a dignified, self-respecting grafter, and unike other stare vadies who ave been driven to the fringe of society by poverty there was no good excuse for her, no mitigating circumstances, The authors might have won some sympathy for her by piling up her bills in the first act, but the bills didn't come in until the last act, by which time your opinion of her couldn't be changed very readily. All this made Miss C an’s task a dificult one, She was obliged by sheer good nature to keep her audience from recognizing Katherine as a wolf In Fifth avenue clothing, At times } igh spirits seemed manufactured, but her smile was all her own, and it paid her way through more than one awkward situation. You can forgive a woman for plotting cab-fare from a man when she says, “Some of these Westerners, my dear, are still In the savage state.” We should have preferred to have the three Westerners of “Sham" in their own State—Id. ew York that nobility lives In a shack get on one’s nerves. They may be good and true and all that, and Miss Bonner, who comes from California, doubtless feols that rough diamonds are worth their weight in character, but heaven deliver us from any more of them! Miss Crosman had reason to be thankful, howéver, for one of her best scenes when she talked and ate with the wealthy mine owner in the conservatory on *he night of the dance that brought her up with a sharp turn, Because the poor mining engineer whom she cared for told her that he believed people should pay their debts and then tore himself away in the belief that she was going to marry the fat son of the rich mine owner, according to the plan her worldly aunts had mapped out, she declared she was going home in a hired hack. She was, through with shams—you could almost see her pulling off the pillow shams In the next act she got rid of her wealthy suitor very neatly. He might have sald with Maclyn Arbuckle, “Oh h—l! nobody loves a fat man,” but he didn’t, Mr. Homer Miles, a good-siaed actor, played this part. Mr, Paul Dickey, as th engineer, was thinner, but not in particularly good form as a lover. When he discovered that he was the man for Katherine he wanted to take her, debts and all, But she wouldn't consent to that. She would first pay her debts, by selling a family heirloom, a string of pearls, She began writing checks for her creditors, only to be told by a Frenchman who had tried to negotia.> the sale of the necklace that the pearls were n. ¢. Mr. Edouard Durand, with the ald of an imported accent, caught the Interest of the audience with this Incident, and for a moment Miss Crosman was in despair and a few tears, Then word came that the aun Miss Marguerite St. John nnd’ Miss Amelia Mayborn—would pay $8,000 for the pearls in order to save ¢ family sandal, Fortunately, the engineer hadn't got any farther than the corner, and so he was called back and Katherine was settled for lite tn his arms Here and there bright lines finshed out to add to the sparkle of Miss Cros man's performance, and if, as Katherine s cousin s: lemons had gone up to five cents apeice fo that she could get only two, the audien it hadn't been handed one, might blossom | Westerners who come Kast In plays to show steam-heated | ted with family pride by | seemed to fel | but our well You recognized authority deserved wore herself to be led. The pony staggered on Ag though every step might be Its upon matters groan [ike a stricken animal, or else he, too, might have been taken for dead. So | hey lay when thelr pursuer, on a great | bay mare as yet untired, rode up to them. i j Versation be better alone. She sprang to her feet—a cry of an guish broke at last from her dry lips, Cy |The Million Dollar Kid # By R. W. Taylor HERES YOUR MONEY| Now GIVE ME THE OH,MR.MONK! MY LITTLE ' DOG, GIFFIE, 1S KIDNAPPED: V MUST MEET THE VILLAIN WITH "1000 OR LOSE My DOG! 800-Hoo! FEAR NOT, PEARLE, TWILL RESCUE Him! DIS 15 DE FIRST HAUL I'VE MADE TopDay ! GEE! I'VE LOST HIM AFTER ALL! AND J DAREN'T GO BACK WITHOUT HIM! WON'T PEARLE BE GLAD! OOH! THERE'S Bow wow! WooF! A Woman Dent'st. The Day’s Work of a Motorbus. All Erom Coal, (4 N their report the committee on cabs and omnibuses says that as many as 2 OM coal 1s obtained the ft ORTH CAROLINA has just. ac- I per cent, of motor omnibuses are in garage undergoing adjustment or repali See ctta piovsaiiog ie, meena. quired its first woman dentist, on any one day, The average daily ey of each vehicle is from 190 to 12 i ¥ ne a great varlety of perfumes, ex- Mrs, D. Z. McGuire, of Asheville, | miles; with 7 per cent. of them running, therefore, the average total daily dis-| os) awenta, various acids and medi. having obtained a license to practise tance is atout 47.000 miles. That fs, in spite of the infancy of this traffle and AaMay thirties) ‘salts, eeireky from the North Carolina Dental Asso-| the present high percentage of disabled vehicles, the total mileage per annum fruit’ flavors, asphaltum, lubricating clation. jof motor omnibuses Jn London is already nearly ) olls and varnish. Onan nn ry : By H. Coul €ejollys Bu up w” yl. Voultaus nnn ten eee OOKE THRAMP FELLERS LOOKS £/KE THE ARE LAZY LOAFFERS SPRING FEVER (S UPON ME OEARIE, WHEN you WiLL, GET ME ANCE LARGE Say Hon / VOT) BUISMESS RINK OF /iLK, YO ~_ HURRY | NOT YET HERE Soon always | |go as far as the wood there, We shail Slowly and painfully the fallen man staggered to his feet. The newcomer | “Drink,” he said, “Take it all! Don't be afraid, There is no poison there!" The man drank and gasped and drank again. Mannister turned from him with the air of one who seeks to avold an ugly sight. He looked through a gap in the trees out on to the plain, his eyes travelled backward along that rough them—"I am coming’—and the chase} began anew. And this was the end, They were broken—absolutely at his? mercy—broken body and soul. He lith another clgarette and turned away from the contemplation of that bent figure. Lite, after all, was an unsatisfying) thing. |road to where the woman tsill lay, As — s4 |he watched she moved her position, sit- (To Be Continued.) z DOBWIDODOGODDOGIDDHOIOGODOOOOHDHODOGOOOIDSHHGHHOSL DOG ? Sayings of Mrs. Solomon Being the Confessions of the Seven Hundredth Wife. Translated By Helen Rowland, reag=s unto thy Mother, oh, my Daughter, {0 she hath dwelt long in the House .of, mony, which is NOT the House of Marti T say unto thee that MARRIAGE is the first fruit of } lemon tree! Yea, the Serpent grew this thing, “ane we can prove it.” | Behold, the world is full of shirkers, who continue to cry out t marriages are made in HEAVEN; for they take great comfort in layings upon Providence the blame for ALL calamities. y Yea, love is like unto the spin at top speed; but matrimony is like untdl the “spill” at the finish, 3 Love is as the bubbles in the bottle of the night before; but matrimony is as the headache of the morning after. Love is the spur tohich inspireth to high endeavor; but matrimony the whip which driveth to hard work, Love ic an open gate at which thou mayest go in or out; but matrim is a hitching-post unto which two are tethered—within KICKING distana Yet matrimony looketh SO EASY. Yea, it resembleth a sleight-of-hand trick, which appeared a simple thing—even a pleasant amusement—until? thou hast TRIED it, But I say unto thee, cast not thy bread upon the Wang ters of MATRIMONY, lest the sugar and jam they be washed away. A Verily, verily, the woman that weddeth erchangeth a devoted admirer Jor a life critic, a lover for a boarder, conversations for arguments, repan” tee for yawns, and a good POSITION with a SALARY for a LIFE JOB swith? no pay, neither a chance to QUIT. Then, dost thou not marvel when thos |observest WHAT some damsels will marry. For it showeth how they MUST. | hate to labor for their daily bread! Go to! Let the high priests in the pulpits chant their praises concerne$ ing marriage, Let them declare it a VOCATION—but DIVORCE # a Vary CATION and ALIMONY is the price of peace! i | Yet, while “misery loveth company"—so long shall men and some | continue to marry; for in MATRIMONY thou gettest both the company’ | AND the MISERY! Selah! { | ‘ A May Manton’s Daily Fashions. } N’ girl thinks her = ward= Tobe quite, complete without {ts sallor costume, They are thors oughly — comforts able, sult many‘ occasions, and they, are youthful in effect and satis: factory from everys% Point of view. This one is made of white linen with» bands of blue, but the same model can be utilized for colored line Pique or for cot- ton repp or for the light welght serge? and flannel that are found satis-'* factory for cool’ days — throughout’* the summer aa%% well as for the’? colder season (; Long sleeves or those in three quarter length, can be used, and , the shield can be , made either to, match the dress, or In contrast. The quantity of material required for the sixteen- year size |e § 7-8 yards 24 or 27, 51-4 yards 4 or 4 1-4 yards 62 inches i eu Obie wide, 4 1-4 yn Pattern No s for girls of fourteen and sixteen years of age, Nee How Callat THEE ING WORLD MAY MANTON FASHION ft EAU, No. 122 East Twenty-third street, or send by mail to No. 192 West Twenty-seventh street. Send 10 cents in coin or stamps for each pattern ordered, IMPORTANT—Write your addr plainty and always specify size wanted. Add two cents for letter postage if in a t hurry, Re an ne em mnn m C to Obtain ‘These { Patterns.