The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

•#* *?' i i m i j i i i n i mi mi MII in I" 'jFW'^Jp v'jgav&Ts:pr* •& 'JtjJsaH-MC THE Mo PLAINDEALEIt, McHENRY, HX. - Wi.3 -«E* i -- biWfc^#Vv •;... "":' ;• J).. •'- ,-«• •" ' •?; r> *>* 1/ ki~ 'J " ' 'v <'" 'Wtji."'-" '0 -I CANT MARRY YOU" 0' (WKOPS1S.--Kenueth o<3wynn« was five years old In the spring of 1812 when his father ran awajr from Kentucky with Rachel Carter, a widow. They took with them Minda Carter, Rachel's baby daughter. In the fall Kenneth s mother died of & broken heart Hit jjrandparents brought him up to hate the name of Rachel Carter, "an evil woman." . • Kt-uneth. now a young lawyer, seeks lodging for the night at the farm of I'hineas Striker, near Lafayette, Ind. It appears that Ken's father has recently died and that he is on his way to talce libssession of extensive lands he has Inherited. The Strikers bought their farm of Ken s father and a mortgage runs to his father's widow--the Rachel Carter. A beautiful nineteen-yearold girl, who says she knew his father well and refuses to give her name, is visiting the Strikers. Ken is much interested in her. In the morning the girl is gone. Striker tells Ken she was planning to elope with Barry Lapelle and iier mother came In the night and took her home. As Ken goes on his wwy Striker tells him: "That girl was Viola Gwyn an" she's your half-sister." A handsome, dashing j'oung fellow rides up and introduces himself as Barry Lapelle. Isaac Stain, a farmer, gives Ken a message from Viola to call. At Lafayette Ken finds that the will divides an extensive property between Ken and Rachel Gwyn. Viola is not mentioned, but has decided no^ t«b contest. Ken calls at Viola's home and finds Rachel Instead of Viola. Rachel tells Mm that Viola is really Minda Carter, though she does not know it. and puts ner own and her daughter's future in his handfe. Ken says he does not make war on women. Ken and Viola meet and quarrel. Rachel tells Viola she will disinherit her If she marries Lapelle. Ken realizes he loves Viola. Stain tells tCen of Lapelle's plan to abduct Viola. Ken sets up a home. Viola helps him and is charming. Joseph Suggs, a low character, appears and says he knows Rachel Carter. CHAPTER XI--Continued, "I could," Bald the other, "but It wouldn't do any good. She caln't read er write. Besides, If I was .yon, I Wouldn't risk anything like that. It might fall into Hawk's hands, and the fust thing he would do would be to turn it over to Lapelle--'cause Martin ttln't read himself." *'I was only wondering If she could find out a little more about this man Suggs, Just when he lived there and-- and all that." "He's purty close-mouthed, she says. Got to be, I reckon. He fell in with Martin ten er twelve years ago, an' there was a price on his head then. Martin hid him for awhile an' helped him to git safe away. Like as not Suggs ain't his real name anyhow." Kenneth was a long time in deciding to Bpeak to Rachel Gwyn about the man Suggs. He found fen opportunity to accost her on the day that the Paul Bevere came puffing up to the little logbuilt landing near the ferry. Viola had left the house upon learning that the boat had turned the bend in the river two or three miles below town, and had made no secret of her intention to greet Lapelle when he came ashore. This was GWynne's first intimation that she was aware of her lover's plan to return by the Paul Revere. He was distinctly annoyed by the discovery. Rachel was in her back yard, feeding the chickens, when he came up to the fence and waited for her to look in bis direction. All week--in fact, ever since he bad come up there to live--he had been uncomfortably conscious of peering eyes behind the curtains in the parlor window. Time and again be bad observed a slight flutter when he chanced to glance that way, as of •udden release of the curtains held •lightly apart by one who furtively watched from within. ' On the other hand, she never so much as looked toward his house when sbe waa out in her own yard or while passing by on the road. MShe turned at last and saw him *»ndlng there. "May I have a Vord with you?" be •aid. She did not move nor did she speak for many seconds, but stood staring hard at him from the shade of her deep black bonnet. .•*What is It you want, Kenneth <l*-ynne?" favor, you may be sure, Rachel ; fJarter." She seemed to wince a little. After a moment's hesitation, she Walked --slowly over to the fence and faced him. _ ' ' •* "Wellf she said curtly. ~ % "Do you remember a man at home ttamed Jasper Suggs?" Are you speaking of my old home In Salem or of--of another place?" "The placa where I was born," he said, succinctly. "1 have never heard the name before, she said. "Why do you ask?" t "There Is a man in this nelghbori hood a rascal, I am told--who Bays H .»e lived there twenty years ago." She eyed him narrowly. "Well go ' What has he to say about me?" "Nothing, so far as I know. I have Hot talked with him. It came to me in .14; * roundabout way. He Is staying with • man named Hawk, down near the >; . ^r«a- 1 have been told that he would • iplke to see a daguerreotype of my fa- ; \fher "ome a®e, just to make sure V ^rhether he was the Gwynne he used ... ••• 4° know." , " "Has be, ever seen you, Kenneth Gwynne?" She appeared to be absolutely unconcerned. "No." * "One look at you would be sufficient." she said. "If you are both so Curious, why not arrange a meeting?" • • "I am in no way concerned," he retorted. **Od the other hand, I should ' . • think you would be vitally interested^ Rachel Carter. If he knew my father, he certainly must have known you." "Very likely. What would you have me do?" she went on Ironically. "Go to him and beg him to be merciful? Or, if It conies to the worst, hire some one to assassinate him?" "I am not thinking of your peace of mind. I am thinking of Viola's. We have agreed, you and I, to spare her the knowledge of--" "Quite true," she Interrupted. "You and I have agreed upon that, but there It ends. We cannot Include the rest of the world. Chance sends this man, whoever he may be, to this country. I must likewise depend upon chance to escape the harm he may be in a position to do me. Is it not possible that he may bav6 left before I came there to live? That chance, remains, doesn't It?" •? "Yes," he admitted. "It Is possible. I can tell you something about him. He is related to Simon Glrt^, and he was a renegade who fought with the Indians up north during the war. Does that throw any light upon his identity?" , "He says his nam* Is Suggs?" die inquired. ' He was rewarded by a sharp catch in her breath and a passing flicker of her eyes. "Jasper Suggs." She was silent for a moment "I know him," she said calmly. '"His name Is Simon Braley. At any rate, there was a connection of Girty's who went by that name and who lived down there o;n the river for a year or two. He killed the man he was working for and escaped. That was before I--before I left the place. I don't believe he ever dared to go back. So, you see, chance favors us again, Kenneth Gwynne.* • _ g •" "You forget that he will nO -doubt rertiember you as Rachel Carter. He will also remember that you had a little girl." 1 "Let nie remind you that I remember the cold-blooded murder of John Hendricks and that nobody has been hung for It yet," she said. "My memory is as good as bis if it should come to pass* that *ft e are forced to exchange compliments. Thank you for the Information. The sheriff of this county is a friend of mine. He will be pleased to know that Simon Braley, murderer and renegade, is in his bailiwick. From what I know of Simon Girty's nephew, he Is not the kind of man who will be taken alive." He started. "You mean--that you will send the sheriff out to arrest him ?" / She shook her head. "Not exactly," she replied. "Did you not hear ' me say that Simon Braley would never bo taken alive?" With that, she turned and walked away, leaving him to stare after her until she entered the kitchen door. He was conscious of a sense of horror that began to send a chill through his veins. * By GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON H;!1' ' ; ' * CuM.idU brDODD. MEAD* COMPANY, ks. V M 'V ': ' .mi CHAPTER XII Landing of the Paul Revere, The Paul Revere tied up at the landing shortly after two o'clock. The usual crowd of onlookers thronged the bank, attention being temporarily -diverted from an important game • of "horseshoes" that was taking place in the sugar grove below Trentman's shanty. Pitching horseshoes was the daily fair-weather pastime of the male population of the town. At one time or another during the course of the day, practically every man In the place came down to the grove to shy horseshoes at the stationary but amazingly elusive pegs. It was not an uncommon thing for a merchant to close his place of business for an hour or so in order to keep an engagement to pitch horseshoes with some time-honored adversary. There were a score of passengers on, board the Paul Revere, among them Barry Lapelle. He kept well In the rear of the motley throng of voyagers,, an elegant, lordly figure, approached only In sartorial distinction by the farfamed gambler, Sylvester Hornaday. who likewise held himself sardjmicaUy aloof from the common horde, occupying a position well forward, where, it might aptly be said, he could count his sheep as they straggled usliore. From afar Barry had recognized Viola standing among th? people at the top of the bank, and his eager, hungry gaze had not left her. She, too, had caught 6ight of him long before the boat was near the landing. She waved her kerchief. He lifted his hat and blew a kiss to her. A thrill of exultation ran through him. He had not expected her to meet him nt the landing. Her mere presence there was evidence of a determination to defy not only her mother but also to brave the storm of gossip that was bound to attend this public demonstration of loyalty on her (part, for none knew so well as he how the townspeople looked upon their attachment. A5 most satisfying promise for the future, lie gloated; here was the proof that she loved him, that her tantalizing outbursts bf temper were not to be taken seriously, that his power over her was irresistible. There were times when he, felt uncomfortably dubious as to hl$^, hold upon her affections. Sh#1 was whimsical perverse, maddening in her sudden transitions of mood. And she had threatened more than once to have nothing more t. do with him unless he mended his ways 1 Now he smiled triumphantly as he gazed upon her. All that pother about nothing! Henceforth he would pay no attention to her whims* let her rail and fume and lecture as much as she liked, there was nothing for him to be worried about She --and when she was his for keeps he would take a lot of the nonsense out of her I With few exceptions the passengers on board the Revere were strangers-- fortune-seekers, rovers, land-buyers and prospectors from the East and South come to this well-heralded region of promise, perhaps to stay, perhaps to pass on. Three or four Lafayette men, home after a trip down the river, crowded their way ashore, to be greeted by anxious wives. The strangers were more leisurely In their movements. They straggled ashore with their nondescript possessions and ambled off between two batteries of frank, appraising eyes. One of these individuals was a tall, swart, bearded fellow with black, shifty eyes and qi scowling brow. His baggage consisted of a buckskin sack slung across his shoulder and a small bundle which he e&Prled under his arm. He appeared to have no acquaintances afaong the voyagers. "You don't know how happy this makes me, Viola," exclaimed Lapelle as he clasped the girl's hand in his. He was devouring her with a bold, consuming gaze. > She reddened. "I told mother I was coming down to meet you," she explained, visibly embarrassed by the stares of those nearby. "I--I wanted to see y<* the instant you arrived, Barry. Shall we walk along slowly behind the rest?" "What's happened?" he demanded suspiciously, his brow darkening. "Don't be impatient. Wait till they are a little ahead." "'Gad, It sounds omlnOus. I thought you came down to meet me because you love me and were--well, glad to see me." "I am glad to see you. You didn't expect me to make an exhibition of myself before all those people, did you?" His face brightened. "Well, that sounds' better." His mouth went up at the corner In Its habitual curl. "I'd give all I possess if It was dark dW, so that I could grab you and squeeze the-^" "Sh I They will hear you.* she whispered, drawing away from him in confusion. They held ba^k until the throng had moved on a short distance. Then she turned upon him with a dangerous light in her eyes. "And what's more," she said In a low voice, "I don't like to hear you say such things. They sound so cheap and low--and vulgar, Barry. I--" "Oh, you're always Jumping on me for saying the things I really feel," he broke In. "You're ray girl, aren't you? Why shouldn't I tell you how I feel? What's vulgar about my telling you I want to hold you In my arms and kiss you? Why, I don't think of anything else, day or night And what do I get? You put me off yes, you do--bringing up some silly notion about--about--what Is It--propriety! Good Lord, Viola, that's going back to the days of the Puritans --whoever they were. It's not right It's not natural, Viola. People who are really in love with each other j\ist simply can't help kissing and--" "I guess you were right when you said you were not expecting me down to meet the boat, Barry," she interrupted, looking straight before her. "Well, didn't I tell you how happy It made me?" "If yoii had thought there was any chance of me coming down to meet would always come round UkTa IZZ1TI* a" TV" ^ flMPo not sure whether you "I Don't Believe He Ever 8aid li" you, you wouldn't have taken so much to drink," she went on, a little catch in her voice. Whereupon he protested vigorously that he had not tasted a drop--except one small dram the captain had given him early that morning when he complained of a chill. *» "Why. you're drunk right now." she said miserably. "Oh, Barry, won't you ever--" "Drunk? Tm as sober as the day I was born," he retorted, squaring his shoulders. "But suppose I have had a little too much--who's the cause of I??- You! You drive me to it, you do. The last "cample of weeks you've been throwing up iWJLmy faults to me. tormenting me till nii^iearly crazy with uncertainty. First yo^^ay you'll have me, that you'll do arwblrg T wish, and then. Just as I bep^"^e«>i that everything's all right, np^nd say ".^*'1 ipmnd o wr<* for me or not and you're going to obey your mother In every-- And, say, that reminds me. Unless I am very much mistaken, I think I'll soon have a way to bring your mother to time. She won't--" lie brought himself up with a Jerk, realizing that his loose tongue was running away with his wits. She was looking at him with startled. Inquiring eyes. "What do you mean by that, Barry Lapelle?" she asked, and hewas quick to detect the uneasiness in lier manner. He affected a grin of derision. Tm going to put my case In the hands of Kenny Gwyn&e, the rising young barrister. With him on our side, my dear, I guess we'll bring her to time. If he thinks It's all right for you to marry me, I guess that will end the matter. He's the head of the family, Isto't he?" ' This hastily conceived explanation of his luckless remark Succeeded In deceiving her. She stared at him In distress. "Oh, Barry, you--you surely can't be thinking of asking Kenneth to intercede--" "Why not? He doesn't see any reason why we shouldn't be married, tny dear. In fact he told me so a few days'ago. He---" "I don't believe It," she cried. "You don't?" he exclaimed sharply. "No, I don't," she repeated. "Has he been talking to you about me?" he demanded, an ugly gleam flashing into his eyes. "He has never said a word against you, not one. But I don't believe you when you say he told you that we ought to get married." She felt her cheeks grow hot. "I'm a liar, am I?" he snarled. "1--I don't believe he ever said It,1* she said stubbornly. "Well--you're right," he admitted, after a moment's hesitation. "Not In so many words. But he did say to me that he had told you he saw no reason why you shouldn't marry me If you wanted to. Did he ever tell you that?" She remembered only too well the aggravating encounter In the thicket path. "Yes, he did," she replied, lifting her head defiantly. "And," she added, "I hated him for it. I hate him more and more every time I think of it He--he was perfectly abominable." "Well, you're--you're d--d complimentary," he grated, his face expressing the utmost bewilderment. Slie walked on for eight or ten paces before speaking again. Her head was lowered. Suddenly she turned to him. "Barry, let's sit down on that log over there for a f^w minutes. There is something I've got to say to you-- and I'm sorry. You must not be angry with me. iVon't y^u come over there with me, and listen to what I have to tell you?" He hung back for a moment, his in-, ruition grasping at something vague and yet strangely definite. "You--you are going to tell me It's all over between us, Viola?" he ventured, going white to the lip& He was as sober now as though he had never touched liquor in his life. "Come and sit down," she said gently, even compassionately. He sat down beside her and waited for her to speak, and as she remained speechless, evidently in distress, his lips curled in a smile of reviving confidence. He watched the quick rise and fall of her bosom, exultlhg in her difficulty. At last she spoke, not tremulously as he had expected, but with a firmness that boded 111 for his composbre. "Barry," she began, still staring straight ahead, "I don't know Just how to begin. It is awfully hard to--to say what I feel I must say. Perhaps 1 should have waited till--well, till you were home for a little while, before doing what I have made up my mind to do. But I thought it right to have it over with as soon as possible." She paused for a moment and then resolutely faced him. He saw the pain in her dark, troubled eyes, and the shadow of an appealing smile" on her lips. His face hardened. "I cannot marry you, Barry. I I don't love you as I should. I thought I did, but--but--well, that's all. I don't know' what has happened to make me see things so differently, but whatever it is I know now that I was mistaken--oh, so terribly mistaken. I know I am hurting you, Barry, and you have a right to despise me. I--I somehow hope you will--because I deserve It." He smiled Indulgently. "I hope you don't think I am taking this seriously. This Isn't the first time I've heard you take on like--" "But 1 mean It this time, Barry; I do truly and honestly," she cried. "I know I've played hot and cold with you--and that's Just the point It proves that I never really cared for you in--In that way--down In my soul, I mean. I am sure of It now. We are not suited to each other. We think differently . about a great many things We-" "Look here," he exclaimed roughly, no longer able to disguise his anger; "You've got to stop this everlasting--" "Let go my arm, Barry Lapelle!" she cried. "Don't you dare lay your hand on me like that I" He loosened bis grip on her arm and drew back sulkily. "Ah, I didn't mean to hurt you and you know It wouldn't hurt you for anything In the world. What 1 was going to say," he growled, controlling himself with diffl culty, "is this: If you think I'm going to take this as final, you're very much mistaken. You'll get over this. Just as yon*™ gotten «rrar row poevUhneas before. I've spoiled you, that's the truth of the matter. I always give In to you--" "I tell you I am In earnest," she cried hotly. "This Is for good and all, and you make me furious when you talk like that. I am doing tny best to be kind and considerate, so you'd better be careful, Barry Lapelle, not to say too much." He looked Into her flaming eyes for a moment and then muttered slowly, wonderlqgly: "By heaven, Viola, I believe you do mean It. You--you are actually throwing me over?" "I can't help It, Barry," she Insisted. Something--I don't know what--has come over me. Can you imagine anything more horrible than to be married to a woman who--who didn't love you ?" "Yes," he snapped, "I can. It's worse a thousand times over not to be married to the girl you iove--and to see her married to some one else. That would be h--1--h--1, do you understand?" She drew a little away from him. "But not the h--1 It would be for me when I found out--too late. Won't you understand, Barry? Can't you see how terrible It would be?" "Say, when did you get this idea into your head?" he demanded harshly. "What put it there? Is--is there some one else?" "You know there Isn't,* she cried Indignantly. "Who else could there be? Don't be foolish, Barry." "By G--d, if some one else has cut me out, I'll--i'ii--» "There Is no one else, I tell you I I don't love anybody--I swear It." He eyed her narrowly. "Has Kenny Gwynne anything to do with all this?" She started. "Kenny? Why--no--of course not." "It would be Just like him to turn you against me because he thinks I'm not fit to-- Say, if I find out that he's been sticking his nose into my affairs, I'll make it so hot for him--brother or no brother--that he'll wish he'd never been born. W*it a minute t I'll tell you what I think of him while I'm about it--and you can tun and tell him as quick as you please. He's a G-- d--- snake In the grass, that's what he IS. He's a conceited, sanctimonious, white-livered--" 'Stop that!" she cried, springing to h6r feet, white with fury, her eyes blazing. "You are forgetting yourself, Barry Lapelle. Not another word! How dare you speak like thqt about my brother?" He sat staring up a her In a sort of stupefaction. How dare your* Ate repeated furiously. ; He found his voice. "You weren't sticking up for him this time last week," he sneered. "You were hating him like poison. Has the old woman had a change of heart too? Is she letting him sit In her lap so's she can feed him with a spoon when he's hungry and--" *• ^ "I wouldn't marry you If you were the only man in the world, Barry Lapelle," said she, her voice low with passion. She whirled and walked rapidly away from him, her head In the air, her hands clenched. Leaping to his feet, he started after her, calling: Wait a minute, Viola! Can't you see I'm almost out of my head over what you've-- Oh, well, go It I I'm not going to crawl after you! But let me tell you one thing, my girl. You'll be talking out of the other side of your mouth before you're much older. You'll be down on your knees--" "Don't you follow me another step I" she cried over her shoulder. ( He was not more than two yards behind her when she uttered this withering command. He stopped short "Well, this is a h--1 of a way to treat a gentleman I" he shouted, hoarse with fury. «;i CHAPTER XfH'/rVif Revelation*; r; Shortly after dark that evening the tall, swarthy man who had come up on the Paul Revere sauntered slowly up and down'that part of Main street facing the courthouse. Barry Lapelle came out of a tavern at the stroke of eight and walked eastward a few paces. The swarthy ma» approached slowly, unconcernedly Me accosted Lapelle, inquiring: "Is that the tavern, mister?" "Yes," replied Barry, needlessly pointing down the street "Well?" "It's her," said the stranger. "I had a good look at her 'long about five o'clock from the woods across from her house. She's a heap sight Older, but I knowed her all right" ' ' "You are sure?" ^ \ "Course I'm sure. She wa* Owen Carter's widder. He was klllt by a tree fallin' on him. Oh, I got a good memory. 1 can't afford to have a bad one. I remember her as plain as if It wuz yestlday. She's the woman that run off with Bob G*wynne. There ain't no doubt about it. Everybody knowed it. He left his wife an' a little boy. Seems to me Mrs. Carter had a little baby girl. Maybe not. I ain't much of a hand fer noUcin' babies." "You are sure--absolutely positive about all this?" whispered Lapelle intensely. "You bet yer boots I «n." "She ran off with a married man?" "She did. A feller by the name o' Gwynne, as I said ,-iafore--Bob Gwynne." "That's all for tonight," snapped Barry impatiently. "You get out of town at once. Mart will be waiting for you down below Granny NeiTs cabin-- this side of the tanyard--as arranged." "What about that other business? Mart'll want to know when ye're to--* "He knows. The Paul Revere goes south day after tomorrow morning. If the plana are changed before that tlm* I'll get word to him. It may not be necessary to do anything at all. You've given me information that may bring the old woman to her senses." "Them two fellers that come up on the boat today. Air you sure you c'n--" "That's all for tonight," Interrupted Barry, and strode off up the street, leaving Jasper Suggs, sometime Simon Braley of the loathsome Glrty stock, to wend his lonely way out into a silence as black as the depths of his own benighted soul. s For some time Viola had been standing at the fence, her elbows on the top rail, gazing pensively at the light In Kenny's window. She had been considerably shaken and distressed by the unpleasant experience of the early afternoon. Somehow she longed to take her troubles to Kenneth, to rid herself of them in the comfort of his approbation, to be reassured by his brotherly counsel. Indeed, she had come out of the house animated by a sudden impulse to pay him a brief, surreptitious visit; then to run back home before she was missed by her mother. "Stop Where You Are, D--n You." This Impulse was attended by a singularly delightful sensation of guilt. She had never been over to see him at night. In fact, it had never occurred to her to do such a thing before. But even as she started forth from the house a strange timidity assailed her. It halted her impetuous footsteps, turned them Irresolutely aside, and led her not to the gate but to the barrier fence. She could not explain, even to herself, the queer, half-frightened thumpiitg of her heart, nor the amazing shyness, nor the ridiculous feeling that It would be Improper for her to be alone with him at night Suddenly she decided; and, without thought of her garments, scrambled hastily over the fence. Just as her feet touched the ground the front door of Kenneth's house flew open and a figure, briefly revealed by the light from within, rushed out into the yard and was swallowed up by the darkness. She beard the rush of feet through the weeds and shrubbery. They halted abruptly,tand then: "Stop where you are, d--n you I Tre got you covered and, so help me God, I'll put a bullet through-?-" "Kenny! Kenny 1" she cried out •It's I--Viola 1" . There was a moment's silence. f"My God! You? Viola?" came In suppressed, horrified tones from the darkness. "Drop down--drop to the ground! They may begin firing at me. You--" "Firing at you?" she cried, shakily. "What on earth are you talking aboutt There's--there's no one here. I am all alone." "Do aa I tell you I" be called out sharply. "There Is a pack of ruffians--" "Pack your granny!" she cried, with a shrill laugh. "I tell yon I am alone." As he came quickly toward her she shrank back, seized by a strarfifS. Inexplicable panic. For a few seconds he stood looking down at her, breathing sharply. She heard something drop at his feet and then both his hands gripped 'her shoulders, drawing her roughly up to him. -Who are you f VtM! not my brother." (TO BE CONTINUED.) PATRON SAINT OF / MEXICO Legend of the Virgin of Guadalupe and Church Built for Her in 1709. The Virgin of Guadalupe Is the patron saint of Mexico, and more especially of the Mexican Indians. According to legend, the Virgin Mary appeared to a converted Indian, named Juan Diego, Ir 1531, on the hill of Tepeyacac, near the City of Mexico, and addressing him in his own language, told him that she wished a temple built to her or that very spot At the foot of the bill is the church of Nuestra Nenora de Guadalupe, completed in 1709. It contains an exquisite picture of the Virgin, said to have been miraculously imprinted by her on Diego's blanket Guadalupe Hidalgo, with the sanctuary of the Virgin of Guadalupe, Is situated about two miles north of the City of Mexico. WRIGLEYS after every meal Cleaases month and •4 digestion. Believes that over* ••ien lecllng and add month. Rn l-a-s-t-l-a-o flavor sattsUes the oravfng lor sweets. Wrigley's Is doable vsuue in the benefit and pleasure It provldea. SMU bI Its Ptuitjr P*ckaf. One has to be a genius haw eccentricities overlooked & BUILDERS . JUST READY! Ilnside Trade Informs tion for Carpenters. ~B uilders, J*o i*n ers, B~ uiiilldd-- ing Mechanics and all Woodworkers on--Care and Use of Tools--How to U?a the Steel Square-- FileSawS --Make All Kinds of JomtJi --Draw and Read Plans -m <gDnnwilBftS?l-oBL Wrife Specifications--- Make Estimates--How tp Frame Roofs and Housf* B <•, " Lay Out Work--Put ift ~T.r , Instruction on In and OuV WjiTK-Stair Building--Saw Mil Paint ing--Thousandg of ShorC "a.ve_Jlrr,e and money--information Usually obtained only by hard experience. AUDELS CARPENTERS & BUILDERS GUIDES ®*fCes --3700 Illustrations Audel'a New Guides consist of four handy pocket size volumes of over 1,600 pages of practical data, thorlor every job from _______ ____ Waking the exenva- *a»SWSr WB* tion to constructing the complete building Examine books freau SHIPPED FREE cent to pay until you see the books. Ne ooiigation t o buy unless you are satisfied. Fi* In coupon tnpettcil. Send now--today--get this bui.lderay. SEND NO MONEY Nam* Address Occupation •*,#«>••••• Employed by Reference B. P. 7 No intellectual giant Is content to hide his light under a bushel. A FEELING OF SECURITY WHEN YOU USfi SWAMP-ROOT Yon naturally feel secure when yoe know that the medicine you are about to take is absolutely pure and contains no harmful or habit-producing drugs. Such a medicine is Dr. Kilmer's Swamp- Root, kidney, liver and bladder medicine. The same standard of purity, strength and excellence is maintained in every bottle of Swamp-Root. It is scientifically compounded* ttom vegetable herbs. It is not a stimulant aad Is taken la teaspoonful doses. It is not recommended for everything. It' is nature's great helper in relieving and overcoming kidney, liver and bladder troubles. A sworn statement of purity is with «very bottle of Dr. Kilmer's Swamp- Root. * If you need a medicine, you Should have the best. On sale at all drug stores in bottles of two sizes, medium and large. However, if you wish first to try this great preparation, send ten cents to Dp. Kilmer & Co., Binghamton, N. Y., f°rJp sample bottle. When writing, be suip and mention this paper.--Advertisement. It's the easiest thing In the world to point out the proper course for others to pursue. FREE TO YOU --the Yacht Club Write today lor a free copy of the Yacht Club Manual of Salads --a really practical book on the art of salad making. To make the b«t ol salads ta*e better, always uae New Stjrie Yacht Club Salad Dreaauig. It ia mild, rich and creamy -- alwaya ready -- alwaya good. Your |iucei can aupply you. ^VGHT (l^JB fleW Style SALAD DRESSING 314 N. Clark Sc MANY SCHOOL CHILDREN ARE SICKLY Mothers who value their own comfort and the welfare of their children, should never be without a box of Mother Gray's Sweet Powders for Children for use throughout the season. They Break up Colds, Regulate the Bowels, Relieve Feverlshness, Constipation, Teething Disorders, Headuche and Stomach Troubles. Used by Mothere for over 30 years. THESB POWDERS GIVE SATISFACTION. Ail Drug Stores. Don't accept ony gubstitute. Trial Package sent FREE. Address Mother Gray Co., Le Roy, N. Y. "" f W. • i CHICAGO, NO. 1$-1024. •<z' 'u A'irt". •.