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i ‘p ( . k. i. K. it ‘; nx‘- .‘w’v'Nrfiv v.â€" I'v- .v'\_a V, ‘r- 'v #Vvkv‘Wr .DA<r«'-V*‘,.‘<_.' / r» .v" t A m if sf“, .7 V ,1" \- ‘w' . va- .',r./‘.'.-Vr~ ‘ ‘ A .,. r - '-‘-4’.r .. ‘A‘SAVFQPV J1“: . 'ablo to touch him at all. “fig, . -. _.,";-.e. . ..a.. .. -~... 1 .4. 'V'vn Ian-17mm . no no. C HAPTER XLIX .-â€"( C ontinued .) But Chris was in no way cast flown. She had carefully planned put her line of action, and the more the thought over it the more sure Df success she felt. 'A few hours more inclâ€"but she didn‘t care to dwell loo CIOSely on that. It was after luncheon that Chris’s pppo'rtunity came. Lord Littimer find Grace Rawlins had gone oil to inspect something especially beautiful in the way of a waterfall, leaving Chris and Rawlins alone. The lat- ter was talking brilliantly over his ligarette. “is Lord Littimer any relation of yours?" he asked. ' “Well, yes," Chris admitted. "I hope he will be a nearer relation beâ€" fore long." “on, you mean to sayâ€"may I venâ€" ture to congratulateâ€"â€"â€"" “It isn't quite that," Chris laugh- ed, with a. little rising in“ color. “I am not. thinking of Lord Littimcr, but of his son. Yes, I see you raise your .eyebrowsâ€"pro'bably you are aware of the story, as most people are. And you are wondering why 1 am on such friendly terms with Lord Littimer under the circumâ€" stances. And I am wondering why you should call yourself John Smith. The listener coolly flicked the ash from his cigarette. His face was like a mask. “John Smith is a good name," he said. “Can you suggest a better?" “1f you ask. me to do so I can. I should call myself John Rawlins." There was just the ghost of a smile on Rowlin's lips. “There is a man of that name," he said, slowly, “who attained conâ€" sldcrable notoriety in the States. People said that he was thc'derniere cri of refined rascal'ity. He was sup- posed to be without feeling of any kind; his villainies were the theme of admiration amongst financial magnates. There were brokers who piously thanked Providence because Rawlins had never thought of going on the Stock Exchange. where he could have robbed and plundered with impunity. And this Hawlins al- ways baffles the police. If he bai'lles them a little longer they won't be At preâ€" sent, despite his outward show, ' he has hardly a dollar to call his own. But he is on to a great coup now, and, stnange to say, an honest one. Do you" know the man, Miss Lee?” Chris met the speaker's eyes firmâ€" 1y. “I met him last night for the first time,” she said. “In that case you can hardly be said to know him," Rawlins mur- mured. “if you drive him into corncr be If you tried that game on with him you would regret it for the rest of your life. Good heavens, you are like a child playing about amidst a lot of unguarded machinery, Why do you do it?” “That I will tell you presently. Mr. llawlins, you have a daughter." The. hard look died out of the lis- tener's eyes. “Whom I love better than my life” he said. “There are. two John Rawâ€" lins’sâ€"the one you know; and, well, the. other one. I should be Sorry to show you the other one." “For the sake of your daughter I don"t want to see the other one." “Then why do you pit yourself against me like this?” . “I don’t think you areadisplaying your usual lucidity," Chris coolly. but she (lid not show it. “Just reâ€" iiect for a moment. I have found you out. I know pretty well you are. I need not have told you anything of this. I nch have done no more than gone to the police and] my “"9 Dl'al't‘l' told them where to find you_ But, I, never find me out. When my don't want to do that; I hate to do it after what I saw last night. You have your child, and she loves yon. Could ' I unmask you before her eyes?” ~ I “You would kill her,” Buwlms said, a little unsteadily; “and you said, , Her heart was beating fast,| 'u'u‘ \1\IL.;u-.uf‘ll':u.f7. l The Price of Liberty i l l l l l bitterly. i l l l i I l .' FETUHX n wumnnnnnrum -‘.-.â€".. _._.â€".- -.â€"~._v .â€"â€"â€"..â€"â€"~_. in l u: onlc..\~____ .â€" .“And yet your friend Reginald Henson is that sort." Rawlins smiled again. He began to understand a little of what was passing in Chris's mind. . “Would you mind going a little more into details?" he suggested. “So Henson is that sort. Well, I didn't know, or he had never had my assistance in his little scheme. 0h, of'course, I have known him for years' as a scOundrel. So he presses women." . “He has done soforn long time; he is blighting my life and the life of my sister and another. And it seems to me that I have that rascal under my thumb at last. You can- not save himâ€"you can do no more than place obstacles in my way; but even those I should overcome. 'And you admit that I am likely to be dangerous to you." “You can kill my daughter. in your power to that extent.” “As if I should," Chris said. “It is only Reginald Henson whom I want 'to strike. I want you to an- swer a few questions; to tell me why you went to Walcn's and induced them to procure a certain cigarâ€"case for you, and why you subsequently went to Lockhart's at Brighton and bought a precisaly similar one.” ltawlins looked in surprise at the speaker. 'A tinge of admiration was on his face. There was a keenncss and audacity after his oxvn heart. “Co on," he said, slowly. “Tell me everything openly and freely, and when you have done so I will give you all the information that lies in my power." Iam CIâ€"IAI ’TE it L. “So Reginald Henson bullies WO-’ men," lau'lins said, after a long pause. There was a queer smile on his face; he appeared perfectly at his case. He did not look in the least like a, desperate criminal whom Chris could have driven out of the country by one word to the police. In his perfectly-fitting grey suit he seemed more like a lord of ancient acres than anything else. “ltis not a nice thing to bully women." “Reginald Henson finds it quite a congenial occupation/3 Chris said, llawlins pulled thoughtfully at his cigarette. “lam to a certain extent in your power,” he said. “You have disâ€" covered my identity “at a time when I could sacrifice thousands for it not to be known that I am in England. How you have discovered me matâ€" ters as little as how a card-player gets the ace of trumps. 'And I .‘Jnâ€" a [ derstand that the price of your sil- will do desperate things, I ence is the. betrayal of Henson?” “That is about what it comes to," said Chris. ' "in the parlance of the lower type of rascal, I am to ‘round on my pal’?” “If you like to put it in that way, Mr. Smith." “I never did such a thing in my life before. And, at the same time, I don't mind admitting that I Was never so sorely tried. At the present moment I am on the verge of a large fortune, and I am making my grand coup honestly. Would you deem it exaggeration on my part if I said that I was exceedingly glad of the fact?" “Mr. Smith,” Chris said, earnest- ly, “I have seen 110w fond you are of your daughter." “That is an exceedingly clover rc- mark of yours, young lady," Raw- lins smiled. “YOu know. that you have found ,the Soft spot in' my na- what ture, and you are going to hammer on it till you reduce me to submis- sion. I am not a religious man, but is that Grace shall coup comes off I am going to settle in England and become intensely re- spectable.” “With Reginald Henson for secretary, I suppose?" “No, I am going to drop the past. But to return to our subject. Are your would kill me, I verily believe. That you asking me to betray Henson to .child is all the world to me. mittcd my first theft so that she could have the change the doctors declared to be absolutely necessary. . avoid a, family scandal. 1 (30111" the police?" l « “Nothing of the kind," Chris cried, hastily. “Iâ€"I would do anything to All I want I intended to repay the moneyâ€"the is a controlling powm' over the man. And 1 was found out old, old story. and discharged. by my employer Thank g _ Since then I have preycd on somety. But I need not go into that sordid story. You are not going to betray me?” “i. said before that I should do nothing of the kind." V “Then why do you let me know that you have discovered my identi- ty?" “Because I want you to help me. I fancyhyou respect my sex Mr. Rawâ€" lins?” “Call me Smith, please. I have always respected your sex. All the kindness and sympathy of my life have been from women. And I can , lay my hand on my heart and do- clare that I never yet wronged one of them in thought or deed. The man who is cruel to women is no . p , 39351”. . .m’ " ! l “The man who bullies women?" “The same. For seven years he oovdncss, my wife was dead. has wrecked the lives of five of usâ€" three women. He has parted _ hus- band and wife, he has driven the man I love into exile. And the poor wife is gradually going hopelessly mad under his cruelties. ’And he blackmails us, he extorts large sums of money from us. If you knew what we have suffered at the hands of the rascal!” » Rawlins nodded in sympathy. “I did not imagine that,” he said. “Of course, I have known for years that Henson was pretty bad. You may smile, but. I have never had any sympathy with his methods and hypocritical ways. perhaps because I never did anything of the kind myâ€" self. Nobody cun say that I ever robbed anybody who was poor or lly heavens, I man dr-fenccless o" foolin'l‘ am a morr: honest than hun- op- V dreds of London and New York cap- italists. It is the hard rogues amongst us who have always been my mark. Bit to injure and wound women and children!" . “Which means that you are gomg to help me?” Chris asked, quietly. “AS far as I can, certainly. e pecially as you are going to Henson down ' easily. Now please ask me any questions that you like.” “This is very good of you,” said Chris. “In the first place. did 3’0? ever hear Mr. Henson speak of his relations or friends?" “Nobody beyond Lord Littimcr. You See, Henson and I were extreme- 1y useful to one another once or twice; but he never trusted me, and I never trusted him. I never cared for his methods." “Did you go to Brighton lately on purpose to help him?" . “Certainly not. 1 had business 111 Brighton for some considerable time, and my daughter was with me. When she went away to stay with friends for a short time I moved to the Metropole." ' “Then Why did you go to Walen s in Brighton-and ask them to show you some gUn-metal cigar-cases like the one in Lockhart’s window?” “Simply because Henson asked me to. He came to me- just before I went to the Mctropole and. told me he had a big thing on. He didn't give me the least idea what. it was, nor did I ask him. He suggested the idea of the cigarâ€"case, and said that I need not go near Walen’s again, and I didn't. I assure you I had\no curiosity on the matter. In any case a little thing like that couldn't hurt me. Some days later Henson came to me again and asked me to go to Lockhart’s and purchase the cigar- case I had previously seen. lie wanted me to get the case so that I could not be traced. Again I agreed. I was leaving the Metropolc the next day, so the matter was easy. I called and purchased the cigarâ€"case on approval, 1 forwarded dollarâ€"notes in payment from the’ Metropolc, and the next day I left.” "And you did all that without a single question?" “I did. It was only a. little con- sideration for an old confederate.” “And suppose that confederate had played you false?” Two tiny points of flame danced in Rawlins’s eyes. . “Henson would never have dared he said. “My mind was quite eaSy on that score.” “I understand,.” Chris murmured. “And you kept the cigarâ€"case?" “Yes, I rather liked it. And I could afford a luxury of that kind just then." “Then why did to Ruttcr's in Moreton. Wells? why Moreton Wells?” Rawlins laughed as he fresh cigarette. “I came to Moreton Wells knowing that I-IenSOn was at Littimer Cas- tle,” he explained. “I went there to borrow £200 from Henson. Unforâ€" tunately I found him in great need of money. Somebody who had pro- mised him a large sum of money had disappointed him." Chris smiled. She had heard all about Lady Littimer’s adventure with the ring, and her stubborn reâ€" fusal to give l-{enson any further supâ€" plies. I “Presently I can tell you who disâ€" appointed Henson," she said. “But fancy you being short. ofâ€"" “Of ready money; I frequently am. One of your great millionaires told me lately that he was frequently hard up for a thousand pounds cash. I have frequentlybecn hardwip for five pounds. Hence the fact that I sold the cigar-case at Morcton Wells." “Well, the ground is clear so far," said Chris. “Do you know Van Shock?” “I know Van Shock very well," Rawlins said, without hesitation. “A Wonderfully clever man." “And a, great scoundrcl, 1 sumo?” ‘Well, on- the whole, I should say not. Weak, rather than wicked. Van Sncck has been a tool and creature of I’lcllSOD'S for years. If he could only keep away from the drink he might make a. fortune. But- What has Van Sneak got to do with it?” “A great deal,” Chris said, drily. “And now, please, follow carefully what I am going to say. A little time ago we poor, persecuted women put our heads together to get free from Reginald I-lenson. We agreed to ask Mr. David Steel, the well- known novelist, to show us a way of escape. Unhappily for Ms, Henson got to know of it.” ltawlins was/really last. “Pardon me,” he said, eagerly, “if I ask. a question or two before you n I you dispose of it And pre- procced. ls Mr. David Steel the gentleman who found a man half murdered in his house in Brighton?" “The same. But don't you know who the injure-d man was?” “You don’t mean to say it Van Sneck‘?” llawlins dried. Chris nodded gravely. Ilawlins 1001.4er like a man who was groping about in a. sudden dazzle of blinding light. “I begin to “'85 understand,” he mut- tered. “The Scoundrel!" “After that I will resume." Chris said. “You must understand that Mr. Slccl was a stranger to us, We hit upon the idea of interviewing him anonymously. so to speak, and we were going to give him a gunâ€" metol cigarâ€"ruse mounted monds. A friend of mine purchased that cignrcuse at l.o"l:l1n't's. you, Reginald llenSon knew all about. this. ’l‘he same day Henson's tool, Van Snrck, purchased a similar case from Walcn’sâ€"a case really procured lighted 0.» interested at l in (liaâ€" Illintl ' one from Walen‘s in due course beâ€" came Mr. Steel's. NoW'note “'hel‘e Henson's diabolical cunning comes in.,The some night You Sncck is found half murdered in Mr. Steel’s house, and in his pocket is the reâ€" that PI‘O" ceipt for the very Mr. Steel claimed perty." “Very awkward for lins said, thoughtfully. “Of course it was. 'And why was it doue? So that we should be fore- ed to come forward Mr. ‘cigarâ€"cnsc as his own Steel," Rawâ€" and exonerate Steel from 'blmne. We should have had to have told the whole story, and then Henson would have learnt what steps we were taking to get rid of him." Rawlins was quiet for some time. Admiration for the scheme was upâ€" permost in his mind, but there was another thought that caused him to glanCc curiously at Chris. “~And that is all you know?” he asked. “Not quite," Chris replied. “I know that on the day of the atâ€" tempted murder Van Sneck quarelled with Reginald Henson, whom he said had treated him badly. Van Sneck had in some way found out that Reginald Henson meant mischief to Mr. Steel. 'Also he couldn't get the money he wanted. Probably he had purchased that cigarâ€"case at Walen's and Henson could not repay him for the purchase of it. Then he went off and wrote to Mr. Steel, asking the latter to see him, as he had threat- oned Henson he would do.”, “Ah!” Rawlins exclaimed, 1y. “Are you sure of this?" (To be Continued.) ..._____+___.__. suddenâ€" ,VOUNe FOLKS O COO KIN’ THING S. When my mother’s cookin' things You bet I never wait To put? away my ball or gun,â€" I drop ’em where they are an' run Fer fear I'll be too late. The most exciting kind 0' game Er toy, ~r storybook. I let 'em go, an’ never mind, The very minute that I find My mother‘s goin' to cook. When my mother's cookin’ things. P'r'aps it's pics to bake, Er doughnuts bobbin’ up an' down In boilin' till they ' brown, . Er p’r'aps it’s Johhnny cake. Whatever kind of thing it is. I always like to hook The biggest piece of dough I can An’ bake it in a pattyâ€"pan, When me an' mother cook. â€"I5urges Johnson. grease ' are THE FINDING OF 'l‘IMOLElC-N. “I am sure this is the most dread-i ful birthday any little girl ever had!” said Mildred, as she and Auntl Judith stood before the stove in dingy little station British Columbia. The train far away in had been three hours I then something small and white ‘bounded into the room, and jumped up on Mildred, whining and licking her hands. Mildred sprang up with a scream :1 delight. , “Oh, you darling, Oh, you sweet, dcar wee bit of a doggy! O Aunt Judith, did you ever, ever see such a cunning lit-tie doggy? ‘ ’ ' They carried him to the stove and examined 'him by the faint light of the (lying coals. “A very valuable silver Yorkshire, said Aunt Judith. “See his tiny black nose and his little pink tongue,” said Milâ€" dred, “and just feel how soft and silky he is. And oh, do look at his lovely silver collar and his blue ribbon!” “Perhaps we shall find his owner’s name upon the collar," said Aunt Jundith. “Keep still, .you mite, and let me see.” But the collar bore only the word,- "Timolccn." Mildred was dancing with joy. “0 Timoleen, darling, you must have come to be my birthday present!" said she. ‘ She led him with bits of chicken and cake from their lunchâ€"basket, and then cuddled down in the shawls again with him clasped tightly in her darling thing! 7' 0110 arms. “What a Perfectly beautiful birthday!" said she. When the station-master returned in the morning he said that the Yorkshire must have belonged to some one on the south-bound train, and that probably inquiries would be made for him. ' “But 0 my darling Timolcen! I could never, never let him go!" cried Mildred. ' “'Are you going to be round here long?” asked the station-master. “About a month," said 'Aun't dith. “Well, then, missy, you had better take the little dog along with you, and you can leave me your address J u- il_1 case any one inquires for him," said the stationâ€"maste‘. But no message ever came from the Yorkshire’s owner, and when Mildred went back to Boston little Timolcen went, too. â€"-â€"+â€".. A COINSIDERA’I‘E JUDGE. Rarely does a judge show h'csitancy in the courtaroo-m, or a disposltlon to change his mind when he has’onco publicly expressed it; but an no- count of a refreshing exception 13 furnished by Sir Henry Hawkins, Lord Brampton, the eminent English- justice, in a recent book of reminisâ€" cences. ‘ Baron Martin, whose native leni- ency and sense of fun often placed him at the mercy of the very men he Was trying, was once about to son- tc-nce an old oil'ender, charged with a petty theft. “Look,” said the baron, with an assumption of severity, "I hardly know what to do, but you can take six months.“ “I can't take. that, my- lord; it's too much," said the prisoner, re.- spectfully but firmly. “I can't take it. Your lordship sees I didn't steal verv much, after all.” The baron indulged in (me of low, chuckling his laughs before reply- [ing > “Well, that’s vera true: yc didn't a steal much,” he said. “Well, then, ye can tak’ four months. Will that (loâ€"four months?” late. "It was past eleven, and pour-lithat. neither," said the witness, pa~ ing in torrents. “Can you get us a carriage?" ask-l ed Aunt, Judith of the. sleepy-looking station-master. ' “Not toâ€"night, ma’am.” “How far is it to the village?" “Nearly three miles, ma'am.“ “Three inilos from the village, rain, wind and Egyptian darkness! Not'a very pleasant prospect for a walk!” laughed Aunt Judith. “C aunty, what ever in the world shall we do?" cried Mildred. “Stay here all night, I suppose," said Aunt Judith, who had travelled all over Europe and 'Asia, and was never dauntcd by any ordinary difh~ culty. “Yes,_11ia'am,” said the station- mastcr, “that's just what you’ll have to do. It is not very comfor- ta'blc here, but at any'ratc there. will be a roof over your head, and that’s a great thing on a night like this.” '.l"he.re were two rickety settces in the room. ‘Aunt Judith made a. nest of shawls upon. one of them for Milâ€" and settled herself .upon the Soon the south-bound _ train steamed noisily in, but left no pas- Sengers; and when it had gone, the stationâ€"master took his hat and coat and the lantern and went out, saying dred, for your approvalâ€"and later on in the (lay the case paSsed from Van Sneck to Henson, who dexterously changed the cases." “Complex,” Rawlins muttered. “But I begin to see what is coming. “The CLSCS were changed, and the Jother. he would return at six in, the morn- disquieting svmptom' ing. "Nay, my lord, but I can't take ltienlly. “Then tak’ three.” “That’s nearer the mark, my lord." the prisoner said, approving- ly. “But I’d rather lel made it two. if you will be so kind." "Vera well, then, tak’ two," said the judge, with the air of one who is plmsed to have done the right thing at last. “And, mind, don't come‘agaiu: if. you do I'll give yeâ€"- Well, it all depends!” ...+___._.... TERRIBLE 'I‘EBIPTATION. An eminent English surgeon, whose brusqueness with‘ grOWn~ups recalls that of the fanmus I quite another person when children are his patients; Then he is asamiâ€" able asnn an:ch or a big St. Bernâ€" arrl dog. A short time ago, according to St. James’s Budget, this gentle giant got up out of a warm bed at three o'clock of a bitter morningr to attend a tiny boy in piteous plight from diphtheria. He performed the opera- tion of trzu'heotozmr and saved the child’s life. Time went on and his general con- dition improved, but there was one The refused to When he was ques- use his voice. “0 aunty," cried Mildred, “he has ,tioned he nodded 0,. shook his head. left us in the dark!" , lbut would not speak. light from the stove 13a We Shall sleep all the betâ€" ter." said Aunt Judith. _ “Hut, 0 aunty, he has locked the door! He has locked us in?" cried Mildred, in “No mutter,’ ith. early io-morrow morning. How the “ind howled! 'l-Iow the ruin dashed against the windows! ()nc. window had a broken pane, and they could hear the Water (lrimliug. dripping, down the wall to the floor. “l‘. but a drrndful l.)irthda,\'!" sighed ,M i ldred. Just then 0 board a noise at the :ln'o‘sx'cn u'indlw and roisrd hurself on ol’mw to listen. What cold! it Was it n tramp? Was: it a burglar? Was it a bear? 5 .l\guin came the noise. Scratching, than a scrambling, dismay. ’ laugh-ed Aunt Judâ€" “lle will unlock us bright and H l t (v'l‘lle enough. I l I l i l‘cr l lw'_I l l 1 First a and I l l l Finally the surgeon found a, way. One morning he talked at his stubborn little pa- tit'lll‘. “I'm sorry he can’t speak to me, nurse," the surgeon said, "bemuse I’m going up to London toâ€"morrow, and s-ha’n't know whether to bring him a, horse or 'o, gun." There was a brief silence. The surâ€" goon and nurse waited brcalhlessly. Then a tiny finger stole up to a wound-rd throat, and the ghost of a baby boy's voice said: “Please, doctor. bwin-g me a licklo gun!" ' . ..._..___.._+___._.._._.. NOBO DY WAN'l‘S TH WM. You can find lotsfof people willing to shame your joys, but you cannot even give away your sorrows as souvenirs. ' Abernerhy, is ,