The evening world. Newspaper, April 29, 1920, Page 24

INANCIAL NEWS AND PRICES | «= nuns, i i i fy itee ? s83533 i i Hg Hiss se f328s33_ 7 HaHa HL Zz 2 if s232¥i2%22935sFiss2i? i ii 2e if E iystt i OK — 1% — 2% 1000 Am 500 Arizona ftlver. ., 1200 Atlanta 21000 *Retcher Divide. 2000 *Relcher xt gaubaSSageusgse i Fe FT 2fag? | faslery for Style, Service, and Saving x : | ‘Ipswich Hosiery is knitted finest yarns; yet sells at ‘to meet the needs of human. moderate prices, feet—its sizes are scientific- ally correct in every detail. | Ipswich Hosiery is good value. It isneat-fitting, good- looking, and made of the No, 720, Women’s Ipswich extra fine fibre sill hose—extremely' fashion seam, double garter top. Black, No, 2552. Men’s Ipswich mercerized half hose fits per- fectly and wears with wonderful satisfaction. High spliced heel, double sole, reinforced toe guard. Black, white, and colors. No, 33, Children’s Ipswich hose, 1x1 rib, Neat in appear- ance, satisfactory, and long-wearing. In black only., IPSWICH MILLS, Ipswich, Mass. Mecabllohed 1922 ‘ Oldest and One of the Largest Hosiery Mills in the United States ~ ~ LAWRENCE & CO., Sole Selling Agents For ninety-cight years Ipswich Hosiery has stood for good value, Over fifty million pairs gave satisfaction last year. ere peneapperetccy geen ii a ef ag: piaiens f pit? fi ; t 80% — 2% 115 2 FREE ff fe 4 aad gfe gEE vi k toe and colors, { M4 108% i i LOST, FOUND AND REWARDS. ALLEN.—At hie residence, 370 Union! et, Brookiyn, WILLIAM J., husband of | the late Annie Sullivan and father of Kathleen, May and William. ‘Notice of funeral hereafter. VITZPATRICK.—On Thursday, Apri 29, PLIZABETH (nee Dougterty), beloved | wife of the wmte Comelius Fitspatrick. Funeral from her late residence, 702 ‘West Bnd av., on Saturday, May 1, 0.80 A. M.; thence to the Church of the Holy Name. Interment Calvary Cemetery. QUEENEY.—Suddenly, of pneumonia, at fais home, 610 Division st, Camden, N, J, JAMES H, QUEENEY, 89 years of ‘age, born In Ireland, near Dublin, and formerly of New York Oity. Funeral Friday morning, Aprii 30, Unknown brothers and sisters in Now York City please take notice, STODDARD.—On April 28, 1920, JOHN STODDARD, after « brief itiness, ry LorMard ana Louis, & Nashville 100% Maxwell 16% — % Oe+ % os —1 6% — % ss —% a —2 18% — & 101% — 2% mi —2 im%— *% o% 4 10% — 2% nh — % -—6 108% — % 35% —a0 Ba-~ ® ™ TT pnt 1% 13%" ™ ™ 212 00% 10 0 cs a OH 7%, 31% 20% Bye & + 80% 76% «10% 107% 15% 15% 12 ‘Transue & Williams + 118% 6% 2% DH “ +13 1M +208 202 9% 17% ee eeeeeeeecais see “1 o & —2% 1% Witye-Or'l'd of +e White (Motors Wileon Co . Worthington . . * @& Woolworth «140 138 18 Consistent hammering on the stock Market to-day resulled in the decline of leading stocks this afternoon on the Exchange. Steel common went to & new low of 941-2, Earlier in the day it had reached a high of 963-4. Replogle dropped from a high of 841-2 to 79. Reading, which has hpid up all the way, dropped off about 10 Points from its high of Tuesday, touching 85, Corn Products was forced to a new Tow of 95, and Baldwin, after going to 1183-8, was sent to a low of 1091-4, Call money was at 8 to 10 through- out the day, From Japan, advices reached the Exchange of a greatly improved sit- uation. According to cables received by Mutsui & Company, the Bank of Japan has furnished funds to the For- eign Exchange stock and silk markets amounting to $60,000,000 and call money which has held as high at 11 per cent. during the recent critical period is now at 6 per cent. Cotton after ing highs up 5 to 19 points this afternoon reacted 40 poles off 15 from yesterday's high, ut the’ market later recovered to a large extent. On the curb, Pennsylvania Railroad Ts made a record ‘high of 100 8-4, Stutz was off to as far as 15 points, one share selling to-day at 460, as against yesterday's high of 47 FUNERAL DIRECTORS. FUNERAL DIRECTORS. THE MOST TRYING TIME When Death enters your household then most the well- poe "caipbELe SERVICE, reyich re ine a poor imma eras every need, not Call “Columbus 8200.” FRANCE, Broadway at 66° St. Flowers fer alt "Ang Hour, Day or Nigh! CAMPBELL BRAG GHURCH iw 23” Street at 6% Ave, Funeral Designs our Specialty. THE LAST STRAW, BY HAROLD TITUS , An Exciting Western Romance of Adventure and Love Be: | Broke, disheartened, a New York society girl suddenly finds herself heiress to a vast Western cattle ranch. This thrilling story tells of the life she found there, and of how she won for- tune, a home and happiness. Maynard and Company, 1920, RECEDING CHAPTERS. NEVER saw you, face, his glothing, and back travellin’ to-night?” brought me here. ‘He watched ber movements, the free even her sn\'lest gesture. His eyes Hilton seated himself, holding his hands toward the fire. He looked about the one room of the cabin. In two corners were beds on the earthen floor, a table made from a packing box contained dishes, Dutch ovens and a frying pan were on the hearth. The roof leaked. The girl sat eyeing the fire, rather sullenly. He held his gnze on her, watching the pluy of life over her throat as it chrew a velvety sheen on the wind kissed skin, Her shirt was open at the neck and he could eee the easy rise and fall of her breast as she breathed. He noticed that her fingers were slender and phat her wrists, bronzed by exposure, | or indicated with all their delidacy, wiry strength. Another thing: She was ean, Suddenly the girl looked up. “Think you'd know me again?” she soid bruskly, and rather swaggered ay she moved. “I don’t think I shall ever forget you,” he replied. “I knew I should not the first time I saw you. I shall never forget the way you gave that fellow ‘what bo deserved. It was great!” ‘ His manner was kindly, showing no resentment at her nepesrenes Pn though her only reply was a 6 knew that what he had said pleased her, “T wouldn’t want you to think I’m staring at you,” he went on. “A man shouldn't be biamed for looking at yu closely.” * low’s that?” ‘You are very beautiful. he poked at the fire with a stick. “IT reckon that'll be enough of that,” she said as she walked back toward the door. The man smiled and followed her with his eyes, which squinted specula- tlyely. *s “you'a better unsuddle that horse, she said. “He'll roll with your kak if you don’t. * Fitton Jooksd Corb ged Loo od again. “Are you alone?” he asked. she Jnirted and looked at him with temper. Her hand, perhaps un- consciously, waS: pressed against the wall near that ri “What if I am sharply. / “Because if you are I shall not un- saddle my horse. I'll have to go on.’ When she put her question she*had been rigidly expectant, but at his answer she relaxed and the flerceness u had been about her yielded to a “Go on in the rain? How's that?” in auveice that was quite different, as though she had encountered some- thing she did not understand. ‘He looked at her a lengthly interval lying. befifecause 1 respect You, very much. . nderstand that?” : Dane imoved back to the fireplace, eyeing him questioningty, and he met ‘ik with an easy #! le. = ~ tN T don’t understand that,” she said. ‘ou should. I saw you beat a man the other day because he didn't respect you, No one but that type of man ld refuse to respect you. lt’ Whit crhaps, for you to take down that’ rifle when strangers come at night... « but it isn't always necessary. Some men might stay here with you alone, but I couldn't. “You mean that you'd ride on in the rain?” “Surely.” “Well. ies the gun, are you?” laughed outright. $s He late not that! It’s because I'd ride distance egg nd bi Bho hing that might bring ; Soaaceeten, ‘Don't you see?” He leaned forward, elbows on knees, looking up into her serious face. “Don't you sec that if I stayed here with you alone and people heard about :t they might bat pee? Phe tr business!” “It's none o! e | us by ‘dither was it any business of that man to insult you, in town the day. But he did.” omiput ies rainin’ and you're cold. I ain't afrald of you.” | het ining, but he was not col me fre Tyas clove and, besides, an- other warmth was seeping through his body as he looked earnestly into the face of that daughter of the mountains. The ready defiance was gone from it and the features, in re- pose, gave it an expression that was little less than wistful, “And you are a young girl who the admiration of every man Gonervalks. if I stayed here with you, id know it’s all right, and so Others might not You ain't afraid of understand.” She sat down abyyptly, leaned back, Jamped one knee Smiled for the first time. It was a beautiful smile, in great contrast to her earlier sullen defiance. “T Ike you,” she said simply, and Hilton's face grew hot. “I¢ you like me, my night's ride hasn't gone to waste,” he replied and laugh Ghe looked him over again, calcu- ‘jatingly, as closely as she had at first, but swith « different “L was going to the Crossing,” he said, with a short laugh. Without comment she walked to the fire and threw on another knot. grace with which her hands and arms moved, the perfect assurance in “Sot,” she said, indicating # box yb the hearth. you struck here or you'd made a night of it.” “ th her hands and | (Continned.) {ain't been still detiant, as though he had challenged her. here Iong,” she said, her expression She scarcbed his at his face again, “Where was you “My horse rhythmic swing of her walk, the casy kindled. “You're soaked. Lucky eT: smile faded but the lips remained slightly parted, showing teeth of cal- cium whiteness. “You're the first man that's ever talked that-away to me. I've been travelin’ ever since I can remember, first one place, then another, I've a ways had to 100k out for men. . . . I've been able to, too, since I got big enough fo be bothered. “This is the first time any man’s talked like you're tajkin, to me.” “Bless you," he said very gently, “that’s been ‘tough luck. A. girl like you are doesn't deserve that.” “Don't she? Well, it ain't what you deserve that counts, it's what you “What's your name?” “Bobby. . . . Bobby Cole.” “How old are you?” She shook her head. “I don’t know . to ask him for quite a while.” “Who's Alf?" “My father. - . And your mother?” I never had none that 1 recall. She died early; that was back in Oklahoma, Alf says.” “No brothers or sisters?” A shake of the head. “And since then you've been alone with your father?” was a child; that, and no more. . . and she was distinctive . 80. You better stay,” shyly after a time. “Al yome time before mornin.’ “eo shook. his nad. le shook his “You and I would know, and after 've told you what I think about it, maybe you wouldn’t like me if I did sta Nobody'll He rose, smiling. “Bure enough. goin’ “Sure enough goin ‘But Alf'll be ba We've never turned anybody out jn the rain be- fore.” “Then this is something new. Don't ask me again, please. When you ask a man it makes it very hai to re- fuse and I muat . . . for yoursake.* “After I strike the road, then what?" “Follow right past the H C ranch to town. You know where that is? A wave of rage swopt through him “I ought to!” he said, bitterly. was sent awry from there to-night, “Sent away? In the rain?” “In the rain.” “Why did they do that?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Because there aro things whfen some people do not valuo as highly as uu do. Generosity, thoughtfulness ‘or the desire of others, hospitality.” He licked his lips almost greedily ax he watched her. . id she know?" Who do you mean?" ‘That greenhorn gal. : "Yes, she knew," he answered grimly, and buttoned his coat. : Ho put out his hand and she took it, rather awed. “Some time I may come back and thank you for what you've wanted to do.” Oh, you'll come back?” “Do you want me to?” “Yes"—eagerly. “Then it is impossible for stay away for long!” Sho stood ‘ watching, as, touching his hat, he rode into the night. She let the curtain drop and returned. tu the fire, standing there a moment Taet Shs at down, rather weakly. and stretched her slim acrous the pls logs th “Tl be damned!” she said, rather reverently. Hilton did not ride far. “His horse was refuctant to go at first and then stopped and stood with head in the air, nickering softly and woald not go on when his rider spurred him. After a moment Hulton sat still and tl= tened. He heard the steady plunk plunk-plunk of a trotting horse and soon, the swish of brush; then a’cal rather low and cautious. ie canvas before the ae drawn back. plage “You decided to stay?" They a Prise, “Who's there?” harpiye me word in answer and Bas Wha Hilton re She nodded. “For weeks an’ months, without talking to anothef soul.” “Have you always lived so far away as that? Always in such re- Usually I've seen ‘sm, most between talkin’ to 'em.” | zzled and said 60. | she repeated after him. 's funny . . but T can’t see it that-a way.” “But surely you've made friends! | A, Bint lke you couldn't help make ve never had a friend in my, life. . . but Alf,” she answered bit- terly. “Then it must have been Because you didn’t want to maké friends with | seein’ folks and people. ‘ “Didn't want to! she echoed al- most angrily. “What else does any- body want but friends . . . and things like that? Oh, I wanted to | all right, but folks don’t make friends with . . . with trash lke we are. We ain't got enough to have friends; ain't got enough even to have peace.” |, Hilton studied\her face carefully. | It was a queer blending of appealing | want and virulence. “They won't even let you have peace?” he asked deliberately to urge her in further revelation. Folks that have things don't want other folks to have ‘em, In this country when poor folks try to get ahead all they get is trouble.” “Is that always so She shrugged and said, “It's always been so with us.’ Big cattle outfits have drove us out time after time. They're always sayin’ Alf steals; they're always makin’ us trouble. I hate ‘em! “I could get along all right. I can tight but Alf can't. He's ‘had so much bad luck that it's took th’ heart } out of him, + If it'wasn't for | me he couldn't get along at all. He's | discouraged.” | “You must think a | father,” | She shook her head as if to infer that measuring such devotion was an impossibility, “Think a lot of him? God, yes! He's all I got. He's all I ever had. He's the only one that hasn't chased me out . . . or chased after me, We've been on the move ever since I can recollect, stayin’ a few months or a year or two, then hittin’ the trail again. Move, move, move! Always chased out by big outfits, always made fun of, an’ he’s been good to me through it all, I'd craw! through fire for Alf.” “A devotion like that is a very fine and noble thing.” “Is it?) It comes sort of natural to me, I never thought™ about it,”— with a weary sigh, : “How did you happen to come here?" he asked. She looked at him and a flicker as of suspicion crossed her face, “Just come,” she replied, rather evasively, he thought. For a time they did not speak. The fire crackled dully. Steam rose in wisps from Hilton's soaked clothing and a cunning crept into his expres- jsion. The rain pattered on the roof land dripped through in several |places, forming .dark spots on the hard floor; the horse stamped in the | mud outside, ‘The man saw the regular leap of | the pulse in her throat and caressed |his thumb with finger tips as deli- Jeately as though they stroked that | eae akin. lot of your Her lips were parted . . . and such lips! He told himself that she was more beautiful than he had first | thought and as filled With contrasts {as the heavens themselves. Shortly dried by the earl; 7 . | y early sun. mote ren that you didn’t even s8e0 | fast and crawled {nto his bed, | deliciously slender thr it. eitepburn.” he rider dismounted and ente, \_ Dick rode up the trail, “Whee he \reached Ute Crossing his clothing was He ate break agerea moment, puzzled the next, a: one But there's a dit. )fnally thritied as “ho dropped asleep | with a vision of firelight playing ever « CHAPTER IX. T was the next morning. Bev! standing beside Jane's desk, hat? told her of the foreman's 4s; ure and its motive. “Dut doesn’t that mean he'll be in danger?” she queried in frank dismay “A manywho goes after horse thieves is likely to run into trouble, ma'am That 1s, if he gets close to ‘em. He wouldn't let anybody go with him so I guess he figures he's competent,’ dryly. “He'ltcome back all right. Tid bet on it.” “But I don't want any of you men to put yourselves in danger for me for the things I own, I won't have it! Haven't we any law to protect us?” Beck shook his head, “There's "law using that law ‘taken tise ehaoin ,pome cases, like this, there ain't time fo spare. You've got to make a law of your own or those that somebody sing makes won't be worth much to ‘ou. “It ain't just pleasant to hav. gunning for your horses and atthe, but if that’s the only way to hold ‘em {t's got to be done. It's either go get ‘em and drive the thieves out or be driven out yourself. You don't want to be driven out, do you, ma'am?” “You know the answer. to that,” she declared resolutely. “Where js this pla How long will tt take to h get there that. Twenty Mile is art “Can't tell only a short ride, but we got the late. ‘They're probably sone yonder by now and he might trail ‘em a good many days fan’ then lose ‘em, Again that dryness of m: he looked at the girl, pias! “And this other? This wat ? What about that?” ga Beck could not give her an answer. “It all depends on what sort of nester this is. He might be talked out of it, though that ain’t Hkely,”* She tapped the desk with nervous fingers. “IT came down to tell you about Dad last night. That's why I was here," he explained, as though he considered an explanation necessary. And with it was am indication of the curiosity which he could not conceal. Jane flushed, and her gaze fell. The man stood looking down at her golden hair, the soft skin of cheeks and throat, the parted lips, One of his hands closed slowly, tightly. For a moment he let himself want her! “T am very glad that you did come. I don't know how much you heard or what you eaw, but"— “Nothing that I can recall, except that you wasn't havin’ your own way.” The courtesy of: this touch and she Saniied her gratitude. ipaisis “Dick Hilton had been an old friend of mine; that is, I thought he was a friend. I... “He said some things last night that I wouldn't want you to misun- derstand, They +: That is, it would hurt me to think that you mij ht believe what you heard him Bay “I don't think there's any danger of me misunderstanding anything defore she had been defiant, ready for trouble, prepared to defend herself ements ommend that man would say about you | mean, his meaning, ma'am, not only his words.” interest. Her) with @ rifle if necessary; now she (Read Ti morrow’s Exciting Chapter)