The evening world. Newspaper, June 2, 1921, Page 28

About Plays HE names of Hassani Short, | T Irvin Shrewsbury Copp una ‘Van and Achenk have been add- @4 to the er of 400 stars of the stage who will appear at the Lambs’ Ggmbol at the Hippodrome Sunday aight. Others are Joseph Allen, ‘Thomas Finlay, Ralph Ince, George Moore, Charles Mast, Jed Prouty, Carl Randall and Robert Woolsey. We met ®@ man on Broadway last night who @id this show would be the best New York ever saw. Yes, he was a Lamb. The Fidelity benefit at the New Amsterdam the same night promises to be another big entertainment. ‘We'd tike to take both shows in but we always go to chureb Sunday eve- mings. j MISS RING'S IDEA. | The opening of “The Broadway Whirl” at the Times Square Theatre thas been postponed from next Mon- day night until Wednesday, June & | Al Strassman says this action was taken because Blanche Ring, oné of ‘the stars, while eating pickles and fee cream last night, had a wonder- ful idea for the show and Manager Mears decided to interpolacc -t| ‘There are two sides to indig»stion. . DUMBELLS AT IT AGAIN. ‘The Dumbells, former Canadian woldiers appearing at the Ambassador fn “Biff Bing Bang," are over at Polyclinic Hospital to-day entertan- ing the disabled war veterans there. Last week they gave a show for the Boys at Fox Hills. If they keep this’ wp thelr popularity will know no bounds GOLDEN PLAYED HOOKEY. John Golden ts a Major of Police | Reserves, Every time the Reserves) @ze called out he phones Deputy | Commissioner Rodman Wanamaker and aske: “What made cher go?” Last week be should have been on| d@euth duty at the Fort Hamilton aAsiation Field, but he was in At-| antic City, Yesterday he phoned superior officer and apologized, | Bat was told he'd have to get a} — ‘excuse from his guardian. So} Drum wrote out the following: “Major John had a duty to perform f Atlantic City. He has the honor) @o report that town very dry. Please gana medal to Hudson Theatre ‘Baflding.” STRIKE UP THE BAND. Barney ingold, Secretary to Berst. Sooty called us up to-day to | gay that his social organisation, the | Fratmor Club of Brooklyn, will hold a bell at the Brooklyn Academy of Mu- | ic, Saturday night, to raise money | with which to buy @ tombstone for | ome of its members now gone. DISCIPLINING HIS HANDS. John Cumberland has always had @ | habit of standing on the stage with his hands in his pockets. As he re- hearsed in, “The Scarlet Man” yes- terday Fr Latham, the director, tried to induce him to keep his hands | in sight, but all in vain. Try as he would, he could not keep those dunch- | hooks’ wut of his pockets. So Mr. Latham called in the author, William Le Baron, and the latter had a bright | idea. “Have, his pants ma ts,” he said. Pe Cimberiand says he doesn't | mind, but he has a fear his hands 8 up the show. vA righty’ he said, “but T think Latham and Le Baron are a couple of pantaloonatics.” ce IT'S FRIARG’ NIGHT. About 250 Friars and their friends | will go to the Apollo Theatre to-night and see “Love Birds,” to honor their | fellow club member, Patrick Rooney. | Some of them will go on the stage and do their best to outshine the star. | Later there will be a dinner at the | Friars’ Club. . . de without | GOSssiP. Walter Catlett of “Sally” has been | put under a long-time contract by F. | Ziegteld jr, | ‘There is a rumor out along Broad- that Ben Ali Haggin may open how on the New Amsterdam Roof, Joe Flynn is out in Chicago. He writes us he knows nothing new fur- | ther than he has been nicknamed Windy Flynn. “Enter Madame” will end its sea- gon on June 11 at the Republic, thus completing a run of forty-three weeks. | Mrs. William Howard Taft and a| garty of friends saw Francine Larni- more in “Nice People” yesterday Margaret Anglin has delayed her} departure for Europe in order to ap- pear Sunday night at the Fidelity ‘benefit. Ned Wayburn has signed an ex-| clusive contract with Grace Moore, prima donna. She will aypear in one | of his productions. “Pennie Gay," by Thomas Wood Btevens and Iden Payne, was pro duced last night at the Carnegie in stitute of ‘Technology Avery Hopwod will sail Saturday from Brest for New York. He will go back to London and Paria in the fa) John Hi Mears says he cannot use any more twins in his musical show “The Broadway Whirl." He bas enough now. ‘The children’s free circus at Steeple- chase Park, Coney Island, will be ready by the time school is over. The Messrs. Shubert announce that “Fools Errant," being tried in Cleve land, will be an early fall attraction on Broadway. Sharpe and Stewart, producers of “The Ghost Between,” say that but one company in this play will tour next season, wa A THOUGHT FOR TO-DAY, Isn't it time for humorists, profes: sional and otherwise, to quit writing questions a la Edison? They're pbe- coming rather blaaw FOOLISHMENT. She had a twinkle in her eye That tickled him to death, Until the fellow gota whiff Of garlic on her breath FROM THE CHESTNUT TREE. “Mike, what do they call little black and Players DUDLEY BUGHOUSE POEMS | consented Henry Harrison, a very nice poet, who lives at No. 469 Schenck Avenue, Brooklyn, has captured today's one y him in the Bughouse Poems contest. the time this newspaper reac he will have received the aw: plush copy of Robert Milton’ poem, “A Pair of Dice Lost prize’ was selected by the members of the Sorrow Hill Skat Club, who meet three nights a week in Skinner's cellar and discuss literature as long as they are able to talk. The winning rhyme follows: Hiram Hamm would a lawyer be, He greatly cherished fame, But when he read of “prohibish,” An M. D. he became. News Cinders By Sid Greene. Bouck White says a child at birth is a vegetable —— Are twins a Pear? Thugs steal woman’s bun- dle containing only an apron, missing $1,700 she was car- rying in other package—— Hard to judge packages these days. Husband accuses “Best Man” of winning wife —— The best man usually wins in every fight. Cigar stores now to sell silk capt. Donald R. Dunkle, and socks cabbages for years. and gin fizzes sparkle every- where —— to-night. at Atlantic City —— Many have started life on ‘less than a jitney. Humorist wins English Der- by at Epsom Downs Most funny men their Upsan’ Downs, have Every bell in Japan has its own story —— ery American Belle is an audience to mapy. Brooklyn smashes all records for June Brides Bride’s Rapid Transit. Wife shrieks as bee stings her and startled husband runs auto over embank- ment Lots of men are stung shelby of Los Ange with autos. Speaking of strikes, ball players are going out on them every day. ott dertakings, ‘and the wonderfal growth Yes, it can be done, even though has made the old customs impossi- | you have to go a long way for it,|ble.” ver rn an PAY Belt lewally, and then | X. E. Rolando Ricci, the Italian Am- how it is dome, according to cen (Paseador at Washington, and Sir iB bones necorting to Gen! Lionel Fletcher of London, have both Chase W. Kennedy, who just come /“% ith Mrs. Kennedy and his nide,|frived at the Ritz, Admiral and Mrs. As poked *|Hugh Rodman are at the Martinique Mrs. |during {he fleet's stay on the Hudson. junkle, from the Canal Zone, The} rae ane: |military party, Ummm! Just think, fellow golfers, of this! Play your eighteen holes—and @n United States territory—and then go to the nineteenth and have a seidel lof real, honest-to-goodness, pre-war ‘py THE EVENING WORLD, THURSEAY, JUNE 2, ANNOUNCEMENT! Spend an u Herein Reveals Where a U. S. Citizen Can Race Over Golf Course and Then Indefinite but Enjoyable Period at a 19th Hole Oasis Indulging in Co- pious Libations of Cool and Real Beer—and It’s No Se- cret and No Law Will Be Broken. mmm an ; who are enjoying! They've sold ropes and their first leave of absence for several | CN years, are at the Commodore, The eighte golf one en of Panama, glasses inat | perfect quality | Canal are ent. Zone. links at American soil, and though one can It’s over 90 in the shade at ative and putt there with perfect .,. liberty, one cannot regard a 5 New Orleans, but cocktails with tne same equaminity. theless, holes, lays line, in not Sir Charles Sykes, M Ancon feverishdy When finished, the players drive themselves, “Hot time in the old town “lus and kit to the ninetheenth, ‘The nineteenth is just a little way over the American sniffed . are ift they the Republic where one's ginger ale m Hf f as in New Boy born in a jitney flivver York. Over the tine is a Panamanian, And in the tent ds beer of Now, fellow pupils, stand up and tell why the golfers do not waste time on the links of Ancon, P., the w Place 18-Hole ever- wait until he is out of sight of the Statue of Liberty.” ’ Dr. William Blair Hall, one of Eng- land's most noted medical experts, is here on a visit, and registered at the Biltmore. He is a lecturer in alini- cal gynecology at the University of Liverpool, and examiner of the Royal College of Surgeons and Physicians in London, and also at Durham Uni- versity and Belfast University. He had been awarded many oecientific medals. cee “The manager of the hotel of to- day must be something more than a handshaker,” according to Elmore C. |Green of Buffalo, President of the |New York State Hotel Association, |who is at the Commodore. “He must be @ practical fusiness man, with a | strong personality. Running a hotel jis not like housekeeping. It is more like running a city, and the head of a hotel, like the head of a city, must | know the affairs of the people ‘he rep- resents. To-day’s ‘hotels are not casual taverns, but tremendous un- “Labor is procurable on the Mexi- jer for $3.50 a day,” sald 'Charles\M. Nebeker of El Paso, who is at the Astor, and who was sur- prised to know that amateur garden- ers of Pelham were paying $6 to men | who weeded their gardens. “And they are excellent laborers,” he continued. “We raise considerable cotton down there, and there has been plenty of labor thus far for all requirements. |Our people are very prosperous, and have little to complain of, now that Mexican conditions are so friend! eee on one the are | Already the roof firgens of the Ritz, Waldorf and Biltmore are open, and local statisticians are figuring. “Many persons,” confides R. Kennedy of the 1 .tmore, “balk when jthey bave to walk more than four blocks. [t is a terrible effort, yet they think little of dancing the best part of the night. The average person who waltzes on the roof of the Biltmore ool- | travels 1,300 yards, and the fox-trotter Jen magnate of England, ‘arrived at 20e8" 960. Supposing a girl starts the Biltmore to-day ‘with Lady @ancing at 9 and keeps going until 1 Sykes, and Mr. and Mrs, Stanicy She takes 29,000 steps, or a total of kes, Slr Charles. is director of eleven miles, But can you picture Wool Textile products in England and Chairman of the Board of Control of the Worsted Woollen Trades, oh 6 I the Farmer Mo: prophets of the country. proph | goes tion very "Well, your record in broken,” said {@7°PPed into a hashery for lunch. It Frank Martin, assistant’ manager, WS a rough, ill-smeliing place, but with some exultation he thought he could manage to get aL take food ,jook': down a cup of coffee and a doughnut GAtrEnGe J so he ordered them. The waitress They went outside and “the rain | brought his coffee in a thick, heavy stopped; the clouds disappeared. | cap, Incidentally w New | HERE'S ONE FROM CALIFORNIA. “A friend of mine from dort re esy one good or better weather with Moore has been in New York he has | brought sunshine and all that sort of thing with him almost without excep- But when he stepped into the and registered the n was falling and the clouds were and him. tly threatening. York New r since. oe Yor . who is at the e of Miami has it all over Smiths and other weather He does bad weather, brings enever have had sunshine in| sailed last spring said Marg: Biltmore, “and as the ship left adr porth lyn still in full view. { drink “'No, no,’ here. he said he steward looked out ole and saw the wilds of Brook- bier, asked one of the stewards for a of ‘One can This is still the land o} liberty, the United States, One must | said girl when she is asked to come out of a morning for a walk of eleven miles The Day’s HAD TO BE CAREFUL, FASTIDIOUS friend of our: being down on Atlantic Ave- nue on business the other day, not but fair Mr. “Where's the saucer?” | fastidious friend We don't give no saucers here,’ replied the girl, turning her wad o! gum. “If we did, some lowbrow inquired our aret kc of his saucer, our swell trade."-—Boston Transcript a THE BACHELOR TAX. WILLIAM E. SADLER, the | R the a ot | Mor |tion of Women's Clubs: “To live to be a hundred the firs} JOE’S CAR Whatta y’ think of«'er? she travel some? will you—-Can't she GO a |i!’ The EVENING WORLD herewith prints the lines for “JOE'S CAR” vents its appearance, The EVENING WORLD offers prizes of $50—$25 for first prize, five $5 prizes—for the cleverest drawings to fit the lines and in the s* followed by “VIC.” How well do you remember “VIC?” the pane! him, and which will be published at the conclusion of this contest, Ach gne Page Editor, Evening World, . ae Hey? * BIT? Can't Tell _me | got stung, JOE! slow down——I think 1 hear something! aa For mercy sakes, => would come blowin’ in and drink out and we'd lose a lot of Specialist of Chicago, said at a recent meeting of the Federa- 1991, E to the strike of the photo-engravers on all the New York daily newspapers, The Evening World is forced to omit the regular page of comic drawings until further notice. Talk About 1921 Laws! | To Bare an Arm Wasa Sin In Real True Blue Days Purity Propagandists of Ye Olden Times Dic- tated Exactly How Long the Sleeve of a Woman’s Dress Should Be. Marguerite Mooers Marshall.) *tter to make or buy any apparel,’ IRLS! Do you know that— whether woollen, silk, or linen, with any lace on it, Neither should it con- | UNDER THE BLUD LAWS—| tain any silver, gold or silk thread. + You can't WEAR: Laco— Gold or silver girdies— Hat-bands— Belts— clothes of that kind the clothes were | | to be confiscated." (And the wearer, one may assume, | sent home in a policeman’s raincoat. or @ barrel.) “But the law of 1634," Mr. Myers's account continues, “did not end with this general prohibition. It went on to regulate specifically just what | could and should be worn. ‘The making and buying of slashed clothes | were allowed only when there wis ‘one slash in the sleeve and anothe: in the back.’ Ail cut-work, embroid- | ered or needle caps, bands and rails were outlawed. They could neither be made nor be worn. The same pro- hibition extended to gold and silver girdles, hat-bands, belts, ruffs and beaver hats. If any of these articles were seen they were to be confiscated | without ceremony, And anybody who didn’t like the looks of your clothes could have you dragged into court if you didn’t con-| form to your critic's notion of sarto- rial ‘property. “If a short-haired suitor wished to get rid of a long- haired rival he need’ only complain of the other as an‘ ‘uncomely’ cox- comb, harmful to society, to havd) him haled to court; and should some prim spinster, outclassed in the race for love, be overshadowed by a finely clad maiden, retaliation was easy,” Mr. Myers points out. “The oppor- tunities for mischief-making were | various and man; To the true “blue” of that day} , there was something as subtly un-| dermining to morality about a | woman's arm as there is about her nether limb (let us not call it by the| shorter and uglier word) to the ¢ | crusaders of the present. | passed by the Pur 9 minds us of the anti-leg ordinances demanded by the pure in heart at Coney Island. “No garment, the law ordered, should be made with short sleeves, ‘whereby the nakedness of the arm may be discovered.’ The law pro- ceeded to prescribe the exact length of sleeves that might be worn, It also contained “the warning that any wearers of lace ruffles, cuffs, and other interdicted adornment who ob- stinately persisted in their course would be brought before the Grand | Jury for criminal action,” | A few years later there was a special ruling against the wearing of silk or t'fany hoods or scarfs by “women of mean callings.” Ribbons were taboo also, But fashion is a jade, we all know, and somehow the blue kept fading out of her. As unmindful of the law of the land as our unsubdued modern hip-toters, women persisted in buying and wearing lace, ruffles, gold and Vilver girdles, short sleeves and all the other insignia of sin. And in 1675 he Massachusetts General Court sang jits swan song against fashionable dress. “God, it said, had caused the Indians 0 rise in warfare because of Pur- tan gins, and among those sins, the court averred, were women wearing borders of hair and affecting ‘cutting, curling and immodest laying out of their hair, which practice doth pre- vail and increase especially among the younger sort.’ | “The evil of pride in apparel had grown, This was shown in the eager- ness of both poor and rich to take up vain, new, and strange fashions ‘with naked breasts and arms, or, ass| Ruffles or cuffs— Embroidered caps and trimmings— Beaver hats— Silk hoods or scarts— Silk ribbons— Curls— Short sleeyes— “Other superfiuities tendifg to little | use or benefit but to the nourishing of pride and also of evil example to others?” if you want a forecast of what our | modern blue law boosters would do to moralize the modes—provided we jet them get away with it—just listen to what godly New Englanders once did to blue Dame Fashiom Gustavus Myers has recorded it all in his newly Published book, “Ye Olden Blue Laws,” the authentic record of all the things purity propagandists once tried | to accomplish in America. Priscilla, the Puritan maiden, was | not so different, it would seom, from Maisie of Manhattan or any’ other modern girl. Priscilla actually liked to wear pretty clothes. -silks, laces, | Jewelry, furs. “(ven Longfellow pic- tures Priscilla as guilty of at least one highly fli 3 remark!) Of course, the New Mngland climate was rather rigorous, and steam heat | hadn't been invented. So Priscilla had good reason for not donning the Gauzy apparel which particularly arouses the ire of the modern Vigi antes of Vice. Yet she did conform |to the styles of ner day—until the inilitant moralists made a law about i “Only fourteen years after the get- tlement of Plymouth that law was promulgated by the General Court 0° Massachusetts. "The stated ground, . Myers tells w of strict economy and the immodesty of the new fashions. en three bundred years ago, “new fashions” necessarily were “immodest!") Cost- ly apparel, the law sald, entailed ‘great, superfluous and unnécessary expenses,’ The common wearing of! silver or gold girdles, silk laces, hat- bands, and other such adornment was @ folly. It was therefore decreed that no man or woman waa there. Good Stories requisite is to marry young. The married always live longer than the single. “That is the chief reason why 1 favor a bachelor tax. Another reason| is that bachelors, coddled as they are, become yery conceited. “A pretty girl at a dance waltzing with a bachelor ““There will be many sad hearts when I marry,’ the bachelor said. “Goodness, how many are |going to marry” said the girl Washington Star. was! t i you > FOXY RURAL EDITOR. 66] VE hit upon a great scheme,” ] said the editor of a small local Paper. “I nearly doubled our _| circulation last week.” \it were, pinioned with the addition “How'd you work it?” | of superstitious ribbons both on hair | __ “See that ates! stamp? Well, T just] and apparel; And the Grand Jury or. | .| dered to fine offenders, an a cut out a pamgraph in the society | taited to bring betterment, the County column of the whole edition.” ‘Court was to act. It was the last law “How'd that help the eirculation?”| the Puritan ever proclaimed against “Why, every woman in town bought | fashion an extra copy to see what had been! ‘Ye Olden Blue Laws” is published (out out.”"—Fort Worth Star Telegram. | by the Century Company. f Here Are t he Words—Can You Draw the Pictures? It sounded just like a motor- cycle! Are y’ trying t’ scare me to DEATH? It's this lamp bracket rattlin’!'! ——— when she is shot, Dut Manscomb with whom Hugh | Whom’ dislixes, rt If any person presumed to appear in| |{able to the smooth- OTM fil SYNOP: Vorise m hatiowal thieves, whose identity and motive are both unknown to Hugh. And tere Is @ stormy sene, cence, admits Ber love for him to Slereard CHAPTER XIII, (Continued.) AM! And I intend to be so!” she cried in a frenzy, for all her affection for Hugh had in those moments been re- 66 ihad no chance of self-defense. “Go back she wenton. “Tell her every word I have em- broider it as much as you like. Then you can both put your wits ot @ little furthe: But, rem » 1 | exert my own woman's wis against yours,,and as soon as you feel it practicable I hope you will leave Blairglas. And further, if you have not left by noon to-morrow, I | will tell my maid, Duncan, the whole story of this sinister plot to part me from Hugh. She will spread it, I assure you. Maids gossip—and to a purpose when their mistresses will it “Enough! Mr, Sherrard. I prefer to walk up to the Castle by myself. Murray will bring up the rods. Please tell my mother what I say when you get back,” she added. “The night train from Perth to Lon don jeaves at 9.40 to-night,” she sald with biting sarcasm. Then turning, she began to ascend the steep path which led trom the river bank. into a cornfield and through the wood, while the man bit his lip: he growled beneath his ‘We shall see!—yes, we CHAPTER XIV. HAT night when Dorise in a | pretty pale blue evening gown entered the great old panelled dining-room rather late for dinner, her mother exclaimed petulantly: “How late you are, dear! Mr. Sher- rard has had a_ telegram recalling him to London. He bas to catch the nine-something train from Perth.” “Have you?” she asked the man who was odious to her. “I'm 60 sorry I'm late, but that Mackenzie girl calied. |They are getting up a bazaar for lage, the old people down in the vill an@ we have to help it. The old-fashioned butler, ewte, a white-haired, rosy-faced man, who had seen forty years’ service with the ducal owner of Blairglas, served the dinner in his own stately style. Dorise endeavored to be quite af- aired man seated before her, expressing regret that he was called away so suddenly, while he, on his part, declare@ that it was ‘awful hard luck,” as he been looking forward a week's good sport on the river. “Do come back, George,” Lady Ranscomb unged. “Get your busi- ness over and get back here for the John to was Sherrard's hait- hearted response, whereat Newte en- tered to announce that the car wag reads ‘Then he bade mother and daughter adieu, and went out. Dorise could see that her mother was considerably annoyed at her plans being so abruptly frustrated. “We must ask sumebody else,” she said, as they lingeved over the des- sert. “Who shall we ask?” ‘{ really don’t care in the least, mother. I'm quite happy here alone. {tis a rest, We shall have to be | in town in a fortnight, I suppose, Half an hour later when Dorise en- tered her bedroom she found Duncan, her maid, awaiting her. “on! been waiting to see you this last hour, miss,” she said. “I couldn't. get you alone. Just before 8 o'clock, as 1 was about to enter the park by the side gute ar Bervs m, a gentleman approached me and asked if my name was Duncan. [ cold him it was and then he gave me this to ‘give to you in secret. He also gave me a pound note, Miss, to say nothing about it." And the prim lady's ma:d handed her young mistress a small white cnyclope upon which her name Was written. Opening it she found a plain visiting card which bore the words in @ man's handwriting: “Would it be possible for you to meet me to-night at 10 at the spot where | have given this to your maid? Urgent, “SILVERADO.” Dorise held her breath. It was a message from the mysterious white cavalier who had sought her out at the bal blanche at Nice and told her of Hugh's peril. =, Duncan Was naturally curious, but 'she busied herself at the wardrob and a few moments afterward felt the room. Dorise stood before thé long cheval |glass, the card still in her hand. It was past 9 and the moon was already sbining. where her mothe ding, and after playing ove of songs as a camouflage, she pretended to be tired and announced hér intention of retiring. morrow morning,” her mother re marked. we should start pretty early e ordered the car for o'clock." “All right, mother the girl as she closed the do Then, hastening to her room, she threw off her dinner gown and putting on a coat and skirt, and the inuddy boots which she had worn when fish- ing that morning, she went out by a whioh led from the great old \}ibvary. By a path known to her she scended swiftly, and away Into the | park by yet another path used almost {exclusively by the servants and the postman, [As she was about to pass through the 5 swing gate, she heard a ce li tended comic for to-day’s publication. The photo engravers’ strike pre- reproduced above follow exactly the relative proportions of the strip as drawn by tinh FSR Mo RES Raa mB TH Mert Teno \ ie C ™ ere bo as oot fey cope rey ee ene ERE na ern nem a omnes mR eK E A, pane t= teenie centetie. Bn voice which she re “Miss Ranscomb! | gize!” and from the d t all man emerge ed, exclaim fo apolo shadow and ba ark dd you will rous." he w nu i si arn | neonven cept my d cp fs Not at all," the girl replied, though mewhat taken aback by the sud- you? By William ‘ OF PRECEDING INSTALMENTS. cence Sah aoe Maa ee Ea doubled. Her lover was accused and |, She descended (o the drawing-room | “We have to go into Edinburgh to- Good night,” said | Le Queux. well, Miss Ranscomb. I am the white cavalier whom you last saw dis~ guised by a black velvet mask. You may wish to recognize me later on.’ “Kad you are still Mr, asked the girl. “Still the same,” he said, smiling, “You have been very kind to important reasons I do not wiait ‘Then he went om: “I'm awfully sorry I could not In London “On behalf of Mr.' Henfrey.” “Yes. He is still in hiding ™@ has been impossible—through foram of circumstances—for him to sem@ you further messages.” “Where is he? I want to see him* ‘Have patience, Miss Ranscomly and 1 will arrange a meeting be= tween you.” “But why do the police still ecard for him . “Be of an unfortunate jecause u a The lady, Mademoiselle now confined in a private asylum @@ ‘annes, but all the time she ravep furiously about Mr. Henfrey. Henep the French police are convinced thas « |he shot her—and they are determined upon his arrest. ¢ “But do you think he is guilty? “[ know he is not. Yet by foros of adverse circuthstances he is pelled to conceal himself until cook time that we can prove his innos |cence.” | “An! But shall we ever bo n@ |position to prove that?” “I hope so. We must havi jence—and still more patience, |the mysterious man. “I have here @ |letter for you which Mr. Henfrey wrote a week ago. It only came inte my hands yesterday, her an envelope. “Tell me something about thts |woman, Mademoiselle of Monte Carla | Who is she?” asked Dorise excitedly. “Well—she is a person who was | notorious at the rooms, as you your |self know. You have seen her. “And tell me, why do you take sud& an interest In Hugh?” inquired the girl. “For reasons best known to mysel! Miss Ranscomb, Reasons which personal.” ‘“Phat's hardly a satisfactory ree | ply. “I fear I can give. few satisfactory, replies until we succeed in ascere taining the truth of what occurred at the Villa Amette,” he said, “But when can 1 see him?” aske’ Dorise eagerly. | “Soon. But you must,be discreet— ,and you must ask no questions. Jus® |place yourself in my hands—that is, if you can trust me.” “1 do, ¢ven though I am ignoran® of your name.” { “It is best that you remain im \ignorance,” was his reply. “Other wise perhaps you would hesitate © trust m “Why But the tall, good-looking mam | only laughed, and then he said: “My name really doesn’t matter #® |present. Later, Miss Ranscomb, you will no doubt know it. I am only, acting in the interests of Henfrey.” “I understood that when we me® in Nice. “Good! Now I understand tha@ your mother, Lady Ranscomb, fm much against your marriage wit! Hugh Henfrey. She has other views. “Really! Who told you that?” “T have ascertained it in the Couram of my inquiry. |..Dorise paused, and then, looking the man of mystery straight in Um face, asked: hat do you really know ahbowd me?’ “Well,” he laughed lightly. ; | good deal. Now tell me when you be free to get away from yous mother for a whole day?” “why? | “I want to know, Just tell me the |date. When are you returning to | London?" | “On Saturday week away—say—on Tuesday week.’ |. “Very good. You would have leave “London by an early train tm |the morning—if I fail to send a Cam for you, which I hope to do. And tm back again late at night.” ; hy “Why,” ‘he echoed. ave a reason." |_ “I believe you will take me to |Hugh, eh? Ah! how good you | erie the girl in deep emotion, “He will tell you everything, ‘mg |doubt,” sald her mysterious visttom ‘except one fact.” fi “And what is that?" she esked thlessly ne fact he will not tell you. Hu® ‘ou will know it later, you will know I could ge | jh “Because @ | jb | \the teuth some Meanwhiley jleave matters as they are. = | "Could you he at King’s Croéé jStation at 10 o'clock on the mogne ing of Tuesday week? If so, I will d. “But where ane “At present I have no idea. Wheat one is escaping from the police one'’@ movements have to be rifled by olpe |eumstances from ‘hour to hour, She thanked him very sincerely, “I do wish you would tell me the | motive of your extreme kindness tow ward us both,” Dorise urged. '" cap't make it out at all, Tam be« wildered. “Well—so am I replied the tall Miss Ranscomb,* elegant man whe refinement. “There i facts of which I no Ise. The affair at Villa Amette is still, to me, @ nost profound mystery." ‘Why did Hugh go there at al? That is what [ fail to understand,” | she declared. “Don't wonder any longer. ' know, an urgent and distinct mos ve to call that night." “But the woman! I hear she js @ torious adventures.” “And the adventuress, comb, often has, deep he Neart of a pure wom “Have you ever hear speak of a gi jbert* w He had, Miss Range In her sout, an.” ho slid. d Mr. Hentrey” rl named Loulw Lame