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' Si'; f C' 1 'J •* : !.;t'v>.>';^ $? RANDALL PARRISH A Romance of Early Days, in the Middle West Author of "Keith of the Border,""My Lady] r. «i " ^ pw Wsj r' • *| Wp;- r - v ?£ ̂;fe« of Doubt/' "The Maid of the Forest/' etc. i i him1 1,1 ^ ' iimiw i> i• ii i C McCivRCACO . v .is»• • V'» > yM;1'.:-' V';'?v.V,u ^ ,tT'\ . irk. '.?.A .*. * "V V-v.- ir* * • ^,\¥ ills'V-fv'WWoPsii. k--13--1« : . 'v' v • • ' " Aflfeift la Cfcfeihayne, '* Wtle of yVftnce. is forced into marriase with Oommlssaire Casslon. henchman of Governor La Barre, who ia plotting to oust La Salle and his garrison from the frontier Fort St. Lou's, on the Illinois river. Adele had overheard the plotters say uhe had Inherited a great fortune from her father and thov had kept It from her. I*a Barre and Cassion learned of the girl's knowledge--hence the mar- rlafre and the hurried departure of Cap­ stan and a company for Fort St. Louis. The bride refuses to share sleeping quarters Trlth her husband. She has buX one friend, young Rene d'Artigny, a guide. He is char>~ of helping her. Chevct, the girl's uncle, one of the par­ ty. Is found murdered. A fierce storm scatters and wrecks the boats. Adele Is rescued by D'Artigny. They learn they had thought on® another guilty of Chevet's murder. Adele loves her res­ cuer. They hide from a search party and with a new found friend, Barbe&u, pro­ ceed overland toward Fort St. Louis. They find hostile Indians besieging the fort. Wrt • f-- t vw: ; f S * *"5> It wns a -»>-v 1 CHAPTER XVII. if > + k r . t I r I , . y * , • $ > ; - ' j f v : Attack the Savages. Iready so dark that the sol­ dier was almost upon as before I per­ ceived his shadow, bat it was evident enough ffom his first words that he had overheard none of our conversa- tIon. " ThMt are no Indians In the vil­ lage,** be said gruffly, leaning on his gun flfcd staring at as. "I got across to a small island, along the trunk of a dead tree, and had good view of the whole bank yonder. The tepees stand, bat not a squaw nor a dog is left." "Were there any canoes in f sight Along the shore 7' "Only one, broken beyond repair." "ftien. as I read the story, the tribe fled down the stream, either to join the others on the Illinois, or the whites at the fort. They were evidently not attacked, but bad news of the com­ ing of the Iroquois, and escaped with' out waiting to give battle. 'TIb not likely the wolves will overlook this village long. Are we ready to go for- £/ „* . ward?" He disappeared in the .darkness. ^*r * vanishing silently, and we stood mo- tionless waiting our turn to advance. ^ Neither spoke, Barbeau leaning for- hu~ \ ward, his gun extended, alert and f j T. ready. The intense darkness, the quiet night, the mystery lurking amid those shadows beyond, all combined to arouse within pie a sense of danger. 4, X I could feel the swift pounding of my heart, and I clasped the sleeve of the - ^ • . soldier's Jacket merely to assure my- self of his actual presence. The pres- • sure of my fingers caused him tn ??is glance about. fll • "Do not be frightened, madame." | h e w h i s p e r e d e n c o u r a g i h g l y . " T h e r e k-_ would be firing yonder If the Iroquois • , blocked our path." I™"* "Fear not for me." I answered, snr- ... prised at the steadiness of my voice. f|i«1 "It is the lonely silence which makes f me shrink: as soon as we advance I shall have my nerve again. Have we not waited long enough?" "Ay, come; but be careful where - : S>: S-'. ,' yoo place your feet" He led the way. walking with such •low caution, that, although I followed step by step, not a sound reached my ears. We circled about large rocks, and Up a ravine, through which we found barely room for passage, the walla rising steep and high on either side. It was intensely dark down there, yet impossible for us to escape the trail, and at the end of that pas sage we emerged into an open space. Inclosed with woods, and having a grit of sand underfoot. Here the trail seemed to disappear, but Barbeau strnck straight across, and in the for­ est shade beyond we found D'Artigny waiting. •'Do not shoot,* he Whispered. "I was afraid you might misjudge the way here, as the sand leaves no dear trace. The rest of the passage is through the woods, and up a steep hill. You are not greatly wearied, madame?" i "Oh, no; I have made some false steps in the dark, but the haw been slow. Do we approach the fort?" I MA half league beyond: a hundred yards more, and we begin the climb. There we will be In the zone of dan­ ger. although thus far I perceive no sign of Indian presence. Have you. Barfeeau?" •'None except this feather of a, war bowibt I picked ap at. the bif rock bcft«#." - "A feather! Is It Iroquois?" "It is cut square, and no Algonquin •ver does that." "Ay, let me see! You are right, Bar­ beau; 'twas dropped from a Tuscarora war bonnet. Then the wolves have been this way." W# crossed the wood, .and began to climb among loose stones, finally find­ ing solid rock beneath our feet, the path skirting the edge of what seemed to be a deep gash in the earth, and winding about wherever it could find passage. The way grew steeper and steeper, and more difficult to traverse, although, as we thus rose above the We limit, the shadows became less dense, and we were able dimly to per­ ceive objects a yard or two in ad­ vance. I. strained my eyes over Bar- beau's shoulder, but could gala no gUmpse of D'Artigny. Then we rotinded a sharp edge of rock, and :a|et him blocking the narrow way. ."The red devils are there," he said, bis voice barely audible. "Beyond the tttrve in the bank. Twas God's mercy 1 bad a glimpse In time, or I would ' *|Mive walked straight Into their midst : * A stoue dropping into the' ravine turned me, and I crept on §11 fours where I could see" ^ i: " **Tfou counted theaiT* " "" •Wrdlr tfeftt In tbia darkMM. yet tis no small party. *Twould be my Vudgmcmt there are twenty warriors there." ' : ^ V"' . "And 'the forty^K'- • 1V- "Short rifle shot Aw#s Onee past this party, and the way is easy. Here is my thought, Barbeau. There is no firing, and this party of wolves are evidently hidden In ambush. They hare found the trail, and expect some party from the fort to pass this way," ""Or else," said the other thought­ fully. "they lie in wait for an assault at daylight--that would lie Indian war." "True, such might be their purpose, but in either case one tiling remains true--they anticipate no attack from below. All their vigilance Is in the other direction. A swift attack, a sur­ prise, will drive them into panic. *TIa a grave risk I know, but there Is no other passage to the fort." "If we bad arms. It might be done." "We'll give them no time to dis­ cover what we have--a shot, a yell, a rush forward. 'Twill all be over with before a devil among them gets his second breath. Then 'tis not likely the garrison is asleep. If we once get by there will be help in plenty to hold back pursuit Barbeau, creep for­ ward about the bank; be a savage now. and make no noise until I give the word. You next madame, and keep close enough to touch your lead­ er. The instant I yell, and Barbeau fires, the two of you leap up and .rash forward. Pay no heed to me." "You would* have us desert you. monsieur?*? "It will be everyone for himself." he answered shortly. "I take my chance, but shall not be far behind." We clasped hands, and then, as Bar­ beau advanced to the corner, I fol­ lowed. my only thought now to do ill that was required of me. I did not glance backward, yet was aware that D'Artigny was close behind. Barbeau, lying tow like a snake, crept cautiously forward, making not the slightest noise, and closely bug­ ging the deeper shadow of the bunk. I endeavored to imitate his every mo­ tion, almost dragging my body for­ ward by gripping my fingers Into the rock-strewn earth. We advanced by Inches, pausing now and then to listen breathlessly to the low murmur of the Indian voices, and endeavoring to note any change in the posture of the barely distinguishable figures. We were within a very few yards of them, so close. Indeed, I could distinguish the individual forms. when Barbeau paused, and, with deliberate caution, rose on one knee. 'Realizing instantly that he was preparing for the des­ perate leap, I also lifted my body, and braced myself for the effort D'Artigny touched me, and spoke, but his voice was so low it scarcely reached - my ears. "Do not hesitate; run swift arid straight. Qive Barbeau the signal." What followed Is to me a d^irium of fever, and remains In memory in­ distinct and uncertain. I reached out. and touched Barbeau; I heard the sud- I Saw Barbeau Grip His Gun by the Barrel and Strike. den foar of D'Artigny's vole*, the sharp report of the soldier's rifle. The flame cut the dark as though It was the blade of a knife, and, in the swift red glare. I saw a savage throw up his arms and fall headlong. Then all was chaos, confusion, death. Nothing touched me, not even a gripping hand, but there were Indian shots, giving me glimpse of the hellish scene, of naked bodies, long, waving hair, eyes mad with terror, an<jl red arms bran, dished; the rifles tbey tar* fining in the red glarct. I saw Barbeau grip his gun by the barrel and strike as he ran. Again and again it fell crunching against flesh. A savage hand slashed at him with a gleaming knife, but I struck the red arm with my pistol butt, and the Indian fell flat leaving the way open. We dashed through, but Bar­ beau grasped me. and thrust me ahead ' >CHAi»tei* xviii. * .. ' -Within the. Fort.; 1 f Si I doubt If I paused a Second, yet that was enough to give me glimpse of the weird scene. I saw D'Artigny Innpe with his knife, a huge savage reeling beneath the stroke, and Bar- i>eau cleave passage to the rescue, the stock of his gun shattered as he struck fiercely at the red devils who blocked tils path. Outnumbered, helpless for long In that narrow space, their only hope lay in a sortie by the garrison, and it was my part to give the alarm. Even as I sprang forward, a savage leaped from the ruck, but I escaped his band, and raced up the dark trail, the one thought urging me on. God knows how I made It--to me 'tis but a mem­ ory of falls over unseen obstacles, of reckless running; yet the distance could have been scarce more than a hundred yards, before my eyes saw the dark shadow of the stockade out­ lined against the sky. Crying out with full strength of my voice, I burst Into the little open space, then tripped and fell just as the gate swung wide, and I saw a dozen dark forms emerge. One leaped forward and grasped me, lifting me partly to «:y feet.. "Mon Dleu! a woman!" he exclaimed in startled voice. "What means this. In heaven's name?" "Quick," I gasped, breaking away, able now to stand on iny own feet "They are fighting there--two white men--D'Artigny--" "What, Rene! Ay, lads, to the res­ cue! Cartier, take the lady within. Come with me, you othersl" They swept past me, the leader wall in advance. I felt the rush a$ they passed, and had glimpse of vague fig­ ures ere'they disappeared In the dark­ ness. Then I was alone, except for the bearded soldier who grasped my arm. "Who was that?" I asked, "the man who ledr , "Boisrondet, Francois de Boisron- det" . "An officer of La Salle's? You, then, are of his company?" "I am," a bit proudly, "but most of the lads yonder belong with De Bau- gfs. Now we fight a common foe, and forget our own quarrel. Did you.say Rene d'Artigny was in the fighting yonder?" "Yes; he and a soldier nami| Bar­ beau." The fellow stood silent shifting bis feet. '"Twas told as he was dead," he said finally, with effort. "Some more of La Barre's men arrived three days ago by boat, under a popinjay they call Cassion to recruit De Baugis' forces. De la Durantaye was with blm from the portage, so that now they out­ number us three to one. You know this Casslon. madame?" "Ay, I traveled with his party from Montreal." "Ah. then yon will know the truth, no doubt De Tonty and Casslon were at swords' points over a charge the latter made against Rene d'Artigny-- that be had murdered one of the party at St. Ignace." "nugo Chevet. the fur trader." "Ay;' that was the name. We of La Salle's company know it to be a lie. Sacre! I have served with that lad two years, and 'tis uot in his nature to knife any man in the back. And so De Tonty said, and. he gave Cas­ slon the lie straight in his teeth. I hoard their words, and but for De Baugis and De ia Durantaye. Fran­ cois Casslon would have paid well for bis false'tongue. Now you can tell biro the truth." ( "1 shall do that, but even my word. I fear, will not clear D'Artigny of the charge. I believe the man to be inno­ cent: In my heart there is no dou^>t y«* there is so little to be. proven." "Casslon speaks bitterly: he is an enemy." "Monsieur Cession to my husband." I said regretfully. * "Your pardon, madame. Ab, I un derstand it all now. You were sup­ posed to have been drowned In the great lake, but were saved by D'Ar­ tigny. 'Twill be a surprise for mon­ sieur. but in this land, we witness sirange things. Mon Dleu! see, they come yonder: 'tis Boisrondet and his . I KM 9* nu*n. They approached in silence, mere shadowy figures, whose numbers I could not count, but those in advance IK re a helpless body In their arms, and my heart seemed to stop its beat- tng, until I heard D'Artigny's voice in cheerful greeting. "What, still here, madame, and the gate beyond open!" He took my hand and lifted it to his lips. "My congrat­ ulations. your work was well done, a ltd our lives thank you. Madame Cassion, this is my coibrade, Francois Boisrondet. whose voice I was never more glad to hear than this night. I commend him to your mercy." Boisrondet, a mere shadow In the n'ght. swept the earth with his hat. "I mind me' the time," he said cour­ teously. "when Rene did me equal service." "The savages have fled?" " 'Twas short and, sweat, madame. nn>l those who failed ta fly are , lying yonder." . "Yet soma among you are hurt?" "Barbeau bath an ugly wound--ay. bear him along, lads, and have the cut looked to--but as for the rest of uv there Is no serious barm done," I was gazing at D'Artigny. and marked how he held one band to hia side. "And yon* monsieur; yoo are un scathed?" "Except for * small wouhd here, and a head whleh rings yet fronf sav­ age blows--no more than a night's rest will remedy. Come, madame. 'tis time we were within, and the gates tiosed." . "Is there still danger, then? Surely now that we are under protection there will be no attack?" "Not from those we have passed, but 'tis told me there are mote- than u thousand Iroquois -varrlors in the val- indlsttncf figures, a few among tnern evidently soldiers from there dress, bat tba majority clothed In the ordi­ nary garb of the wilderness. Save for one Indian squaw, hot a woman was visibly, nor «ild I recognize a familiar f^ce, as the fellows, each man I war­ ing a rifle, surged about us In noisy welcome, eagerly questioning those who had gone forth to our rescue. Yet we were scarcely within, and the gates closed, when a man pressed his way forward through the throng, in voice of authority bidding them stand aside. A blazing torch cast its red light orer him, revealing a slender fig­ ure attired In frontier garb, a dark face, made alive by a pair of dense brown eyes, which met mine lu a stare of surprise. * "Back safe, Boisrondet" he ex­ claimed sharply, "and have brought in a woman. 'Tis a strange sight in this land. Were an^ of our lads hurt?" "None worth reporting, monsieur. The man they carried was a soldier of M. de la Durantaye. He was struck down before we reached the party. There is an old comrade here." "An old comrade! Lift the torch, Jacques. Faith, there are so few left I Would not nilss the sight of such a face." He stared about at us, for an ln» stant uncertain; then took a quick step forward, his band outstretched. "Rene d'Artigny!" he cried, his joy finding expression In his face. "Ay, an old comrade, indeed, and only less welcome than M. de la Salle himself. 1 "Mon Dleu I a Woman!" -- 'Twas a bold trick you played tonight but not unlike many another I have seen you venture. You bring me mes* sage from monsieur?" * "Only that he has sailed safety for France to have audience with Louis. I saw him aboard ship, and was bid­ den to tell you to bide here in patience and seek no quarrel with De Baugis." "Easy enoUglj to say: but in all truth I need not seek quarrel--it comes my way without seeking. De Baugis was not so bad--a bit high strung, perhaps, and boastful of his rank, yet not so 111 a comrade---but there is a new&omer here, a popinjay named Cassion. with whom-1 cafinot abide. At, but you know the beast, for you journeyed west in his com- wny. Sacrf! the man charged you tvith murder, and I gave him the lie to his teeth. Not two hours ago we had our swords out, but now you can answer for yourself." D'Artigny hesitated, hi* eyes meet-^ ing mine. "I fear. Monsieur de Tonty," he said finally, "the answer may not be to easily made. If.,It were point of sword, now, I could laugh at the man. but he possesses some ugly facts diffi­ cult to explain." "Yet 'twas not your hand which did the deed?" 'I pledge you my word to that. Yet this Is no time to talk of the matter. I have wounds to be looked to, and would learn first how Barbeau fares. You know not thif lady; but of course not, or your tongue would never have spoken so freely--Monsieur de Tonty, Madame Casslon." « He straightened up. his* eyes on my face. For an Instant he stood mo-, tionless; then swept the hat from his head, and bent low. 'Yotir pardon, madame; we of the wilderness become rough of speech. I should have known, for a rumor bad reached me of your accident. You o^e life, no doubt, to Sieur d'Artigny." 'Yes. monsieur: he has been my kind friend." 'He would not be the one I love else. We know men on this frontier, madame, and this lad batb seen years of service by my side." His hand rested on D'Artigny's shoulder. " 'Twas only natural, then, that I should resent M. Casslon's charge of murder." • "I share your faith in the innocence of M. d'Artigny," I answered firmly enough, "but beyond this assertion I can say nothing." "Naturally not; madame. Yet we must more along. Yon can walk, Rene?" "Ay. my hurts are mostly bruises." The torches led the way, the danc­ ing flames lighting up the scene. Tbet* wai^hard, packed earth under our feet, nor ml I realize yet that this Fort St. Louis oh<Mipied the summit of a great rock, protested on three sides by preci­ pices, towering high above the river. Sharpened palisades of logs surround­ ed us on every side, with low log houses built against them; on the roofs of which riflemen could stand in safe­ ty to guard the valley below. The central space was open except for two small buildings, one from Its shape a chapel, and the other, as I lesrned later, the guardhouse. A lire biased at the farther end ot the ln- of him. and whirled about, with up­ lifted rifle to aid D'Artigny, who faced two warriors, naked knife in hand. "Run, maduuie, for the fort." he shouted above the uproar "To .my help. Bafbeaur --1"~" ..v-. - i uprc fifty men, all told. It was luck we got through so easily. Ay. Bolsrottdet. we are ready." myself, a soldier ran op (he •tepe, and made some report. Instantly the group broke, and two men strode past the fire, and met us. One was a tali, imposing figure in dragoon uniform, a sword at* his thigh, his face full bearded; the other, Whom I recognized instantly with a quick intake of breath, was Monsieur Cassion. He was a stride in advance, his eye* searching me out in the dim light, his face flushed from excitement. "Mon Dleu! what Is this I bear?"-he exclaimed, staring at the three of as as though doubting the evidence of his own eyes. "My wife, alive? Ay, by my faith, It is indeed, Adele." He grasped me by the *rm. but even at that instant his glance fell upon D'Ar­ tigny, and his manner changed. "Saint Anne! and what means this! So 'tis with this rogue you have been wandering in the wilderaessr* He tugged at bis sword; but tlhe dragoon caught his arm. "Nay, wait, Casslon. 'Twill be best to learn the truth before resorting to blows. Perchance Monsieur Tonty can explain clearly what has hap­ pened." "It is explained already," rnswered the Italian, and he took a jtep for­ ward, as though to protect q*. "These two, with a soldier of M. de la Duran­ taye. endeavored to reach the fort and were attacked by Iroquois. We dispatched men to their rescue, and have all now. safe with?© the pali­ sades, What more wouki yoa tearn. messieurs?" , > Casslon pressed forward, and front­ ed him, angered beyond control. "We know all that,* he roared sav­ agely. "But I would tearn why they hid themselves from me. Ay, madame. but I will make you talk when once we are alone! But now I denounce this man as the murderer of Hugo Chevet, and order him under aireet. Here, lads, seize the fellow." CHAPTER XIX. ; ;;i - *ln De tfavgls' Quarters. De Tonty never gave way a* Inch as a dozen soldiers advanced at Ces­ sion's order. "Walt, men!" fte said sternly; *'Tls no time, with Iroquois about te start a quarrel, yet if a .band be lftid on this lad here In anger, we, who are Of . La Salle's company, will protect him with our lives--* "You defend a murderer?" ^ "No; a comrade. Listen to me, C5as sion, and you, De Baugis. i have held quiet to your dictation, but no injus­ tice shall be done to comrade of mine save by force of arms. I know naught of your quarrel, or your charges of crime against D'Artigny. but the lad Is going to have fair play. He is no courier du bols, to be killed for your vengeance, but an officer un­ der Sleur de la Salle, entitled to trial and judgment" "He was my guide: J "have author­ ity." ' "Not now, monsieur.. 'Tis true he served you, and was your employee on the voyage hither. But even In that service, be obeyed the orders of La Salle. Now, within these palisades, he is an officer of this garrison, and subject only to me." De Baugis spoke, his- voice cold, -con­ temptuous. (TO BE CONTINUEIM Little People Have Been Given! f®"holtdays *** 004 attempt to.dress ' * ' hai* nAm #A« Attention of the- World*! «» Hreatest Designers. V ? ' •!»**•«> ' *» VELVET VERY MUCH IW FAVOR That Material Exceptionally Fashion­ able, Though Many Others Are Dim '• tlrfctly Itt Style--Some Hints for" the Proper Costuming Of fNiere are mothers by the thousands who know not Lanvin. She may be a new perfume, an old wine or a race-, horse, for all they care, but way out beyond the bounds of the post office, youngsters wear, the things this gifted woman has designed. Unmarried, de­ voted to her nieces and nephews and building fof^ her family brood a spa­ cious and artf&tlc home near Paris, •kind of heart and clever of brain, she has glorified the schoolgirl and put'her stamp on the children of the world. The older women will tell you she has done something greater than that; she has marie the middle-aged woman look like the schoolgirl, amf that gives her the prestige of a "sartorial alchem­ ist, a brewer of magic. It Is her verdict that the small girt shall wear small clothes. She has made tiny little frocks for kindergar­ ten wear that button down the back and barely reach the knees. To give a touch of gayety, she has embroidered baskets of roses on her frocks. She ignores the waigillne and flares her little gowns straight out from shoulder to hem. In Black and Light Colors, J<S|ny dees differently; she adopts black velvets for small girls and also takes up with taffeta in the second mourning colors of violet,' mauve and her now for the entire year. This, argues the mother is too edC> travagaat a plan to put into pra<?tfc«v although it is good In theory, a little experiment, however, will prove that this really makes for economy. Then are few adults who care to wear the same gown throughout ten months of the year. A woman may not want to keep abreast of the fashions, but no woman is guiltless of tho desire to show her public that she knows what they are. This feeling Is far more potent in a ^young girl than in tf grown-up. She Scares not for quality nor quantity. She wants the last thing at the right mo-* ment. If she is compelled to wear the same new frocks, from October until May, she will rebel. The consequence is that she will worry her mother into giving her some new frocks after the New Year, with her former ones still valuable. Therefore, try the system of giving her just enough to last her through the Christmas holidays, and take advantage of the reasonable prices of fashionable clothes at the shops. Making for Economy. - J. It Is perhaps wiser to provide heir With two one-piece frocks and a top coat than with a tailored suit so early in the season. The classroom frock which used to bother mothers" minds so much is now simplified by the uni­ versal fashion of separate flannel skirts, sweaters and shirt waists. There are many schools in which the girls Insist upon wearing wash skirts throughout the season, but this Is an extravagant fashion because of the laundry bill. The preferred shirtwaist Is of silk instead of cotton, which callslfor a bit more money in the beginning, but which saves more in the end. * The top coat seems to be essential. There are admirable new ones brought' over from Paris and also designed la it ; -ffi v THOUGHT HIM DOWN AND OUT Old Friends Meant Well, But Really "Henry Brown" Was in No Neid of Assistance, f A ^wealthy and middle-aged IwiSlftess man who requests that his name be not used in connection with this story, likes t<T3b his own automobile repair­ ing. His garage is some distance from his house, temporarily; that Is, he t» renting a garage abowt a block away from home. And one Sunday morning he put en his working clothes and.went over to do some tinkering on his m* chine. . When he had finished puttering about lie was pretty dirty. His clothe* were a mess, but that didn't make any difference, fo^ they were regular work» ing clothes. Ills hands were black, and he was sadly in need of a shava So he hurried home to clean up. And on the sidewalk, a few doors froui his home, he met a man whom he hadn't seen for 20 years. "Why, isn't this Henry . Brown!" asked the .other ruun. "Yes, it Is," answered our friend. "And I guess you're Jim Jones. Glad to see you. What are you doing in Cleveland?" v "Just staying with friends for a few days," answered the old friend, looking our hero over with a puwsled expres­ sion. "Do you live in Cleveland--but of course, you do." "Yes, I've lived here for 20.. years," answered Mr. Brown, who was totally unconscious of his appearance, and wondered at the pitying and puzzled expression on the other's face. **I sup­ pose I'm settled here for life--don't see any chance to get out of the ever­ lasting grind I'm up against." "Oh. cheer up," said Jones, dapping him on the shoulder. "Things are nev­ er too late to mend. I think I know an opening for a man who is sober and industrious^--It would be better than the work you seem to be doing now. Here's my card--I'll be at the hotel for three days. You come jaround tomorrow at your noon hour and I'll see what I can do for old time's suke. Brown stood staring at lum as he hurried awt^y. Then he grinned and entered bis house.--Cleveland PlaU> . .vr:~ closure, with a number of men loung- ley. and the garrison has less thanking about it, and Illumined the front Mduth-Flillng Wor4 v That the European battle fronm irtid the Mexican frontier have nothU>K on the American Indian for names w*# emphasized when the chamber of com­ merce of eastern Connecticut held their summer outing as guests of tins Webster-Dudley chamber of commerce and Southbridge board of trade at Lake Chargogg-goggmnnchaug-agow' gamaU;;. a historic spot and former conference ground of the red men wh& named it. The day 'was spent In at-of a more pretentious building, which apparently extended across that entire tempting to masticate the name of th» That was my first glimpse of the interior of a frontier fort, and. al­ though 1 saw only the little open space lighted by a few waving torches, the Pnory rbides with distinctness, A r of nun feet a» at «to* gate, dim, - V: • •* ' end. This building, having the ap­ pearance of a barrack, exhibited nu­ merous doors and windows, with a narrow porch tn frout on which .1 per­ ceived a group of men. As we approached more closely, De lake and a large amount of clam chow* der, clams, sea has* and lobster and spring chicken. 'J® Sometimes these remnant counts husbiuitls huve a greater *na|» Tout? talking between D'Artigny and *** ' ' JUL 8klrt •§ fihlffon With Deep Cream Lace Bands; Bodice and Polonaise at Back of Deep Blue Satin. Hat of Blue Velvet With High Gruah Crown and Sliver Bow in Front. lavender. These she girdles at a high waistline with smocking, cording, vel­ vet ribbon and gold jind silver cord. Paquln has also taken up with juven­ ile costumery. She has reflected the thrill of romantic delight which the French give to their Scotch allies by turning out plaids and tartans that no little girl would be ashamed to wear to school. In all this costumery designed by Paris for juveniles, the skirts are short and full,'the bodices slim and tight, the necks cut round and finished In a simple manner. In materials, velvet is exceptionally fashionable; so are taf­ feta. silk, chiffon, Georgette crepe and the different weaves of army cloth. In the clothes that are not Intended for" the nursery 4l»ere is a certain air of sophistication that has been lacking in American clothes for a decade or two. So much for the real younger. What of her older sister who Is going to boarding school or college? Costuming the Schoolgirl. It Is no slight task and cannot be accomplished In leisure moments--this arrangement of a schoolgirl's ward­ robe. The wisest plan Is to give her enough clothes to last until the Christ- SETS FOR BETWEEN-SEASONS Hats and Scarfs.of Velvet and Fur Provided to Wear With the Taller Mad*. ' / fe't^feTy sets, consisting of hat and llshawl collarette or crush collarette, are featured'in New York. These sets com­ bine velvet with fur and will be ex­ ceedingly srhart worn with the deml- tallleur. A typically youthful set bad a mushroom poke hat, the crown an extremely high, puffy tam effect In midnight blue velvet, while t&e brim was of old-rose cut wool. The shoul­ der shawl collarette was of velvet, and was lined with the cut wool, the top of which was folded back on the velvet, forming a sort of cuff effect and udding a touch of color. A tiny hunch of silk flowers in old rose finished the hat in front and formed the fastening of the collarette.' , Another very good-looking set" con­ sisted of-a large sailor hat of mole color velvet, the brim bound In mole­ skin. and the trimming being four moleskin huttups with £old cord loops, Frock of White Georgette Crepe Witik Flounce of Midnight Blue Satii^ Skirt Fastened Down Back With White Velvet Buttons. Hood Collar Finished at Back With Silk TassftL America. The smart ones have loose* circular capes that Hare away from a •*»alf-low, rolling collar, with a fasten­ ing on the side Instead of in front. <•.:'V As for the one-piece frocks, they cat fte chosen in any color and materhrf that the girl likes. There must W one for afternoon and informal eve­ ning wear, which the French designer*' make up in white or cream lace with colored satin or in Georgette crep« with satin. The Hats They Wear. One of the new hats for schoolgirl* Is excessively good-looking, made of plaited black velvet, and sliver tratd. It is a combination of the hats of salK ors and Chinese mandarins. France^ you know, took hold of the Chinese In­ fluence again as soon as she introduced the Iiouis XV fashions. The embroidered hat has had tts day. The colored felt hat, soft silky felt, with a large, flopping brim and • soft, dented crown, will rival fudge as the schoolgirl's chief delight. In deqp pink, without a touch of any otMf « o!or or trimming, It Is strongly dt» sired. (Copyright, by the McClui* Ne^spnpes Syndicate.) ranged from the crown center to tlM brim edge. The collarette of thii. set was of the muffler type and combined the moleskin and mole velvet. Still another was of black velvet and striped novelty fur that had a touch of yel­ low in it; th|s was carried out on tut iiat tn the form of a woven gold threw! duck that formed the solitary centrit trimming. eJ Braid Monograms. K Hess Is a new, quick and inexpensive way to letter household articles. Buy a Jive-cent card of old-fashioned rick- rack braid in blue, pink or any desired shade. Draw your letters and securelf fasten down one end of the braid. Now twist the braid so that all the points are toward the outside of the letter, then sew to the material. This takes only a few minutes to do, and looks very well, especially on bath towels of other large articles.--Woaum's Ha Companion. ; Flower Necklet. ' A charming fushion for small cblft * . 3 I. UlSSi • iff _ MiSfiSS -y\ ir _ ' ^..,1 " "IVl. ^ . J(JL '1 JKAJnJ1 i flren of the sniock-weailng age Is Ife HoweTnecklet u» match the an met. „-£&k.e t Su. JLfc*. •• a , . J a t * • " K