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

5': l. f l vg‘.:.v:,-4...;V;.-.:.o.;.y.;.‘.;.low} lean ask me to hide it from her, if membered. 'A feeling of loneliness 3:. f lover I should know.” stole over himâ€"a sub-consciousness o 0.0 “Well, there it is, George, and you that he was a. very small contribu- Z'I' 0 must take my word for it. My tor, if a contributor at all, to their 9 '2' judgment may be wrong, but it is evident happiness. When they spoke “ ! Don’t to him, what they said Was so flag- 0 .0 22 MR. MACK O I 0.0 O ’ A o a o o o o o o . o o o c 90.0%... M.e‘o.¢so.ofio.ofi, 9.0%..o‘boeo 650$ 9.0 The men on the chessâ€"board stood at mate, and, With one hand shading his eyes from the lamplight, Mr. Mack stared at them gloomily and tried to trace the movements back .to the point where he had erred and enabled Burton to bring forward his allâ€"important knight. The younger man sat with one elbow on the table, nervously strokâ€" ing the back of his head and turning his eyes restlessly at the different obâ€" jects in the cosy little parlor. "I am glad I spoke to you first," he said, thoughtfully, after a long silence. "Yes." Mr. Mack pushed the board away, and turning round in his chair crossed his legs. The movement was vigorous and suggested he Was out of patience with something. “I am glad, too, George, for if she had said 'yes,’ as she might have done, and I had had to say ‘no‘ to both of you, I should have liked it even WWW. less than I like having ’to say it to. you alone.” He paused, and threw at Burton one of his nervous side- looks. I like you and she likes you, and I don’t know a single thing against you. Wé’d both be very sorry if you withdrew your friend- ship, and I won’t say it is utterly impossible you should ever marry her. But”â€"-he looked at the nail of his little finger and bit it absentlyâ€" "there are reasons, cogent, solid rea- sons, why she shouldn‘t wed while I am aboveâ€"ground. You may put it down. to my selfishness if you like; so much the better if you do, my boy. But, no, I don't want you to‘ think that. I couldn’t bear to lose her; my life wouldn’t be worth breath without her. But it isn’t that, for I love her above selfishness, and her happineSS has been my single aim since her mother 'died fifteen years ago." "Oh, I’m quite sure that in refusâ€" ing me you appreciate thatâ€"that;â€" Well, it’s a bit of a blow to me,” said, Burton, nervously filling his pipe from the tobaccoâ€"jar on the table. “I mean, loving her as you do, you can understand it is a bit deadening to lose her; for I have become pretty confident that she cares for me; and youâ€"â€"-â€",’Oh, Mr. Mack, come! What is there to keep us apart if she ,loves me? Money? I am a fairly prosperous farmer with many a pound put by. Reâ€" putation? You won’t hear a word against me, I’m glad to say." “Oh, you’re all, right,” answered Mack, with a deprecating look. “It’s like thisâ€"likeâ€"well, perhaps the boot is on the other foot! Sometimes the villagers about here refer to me as ‘mysterious Mr. Mack’; they got the idea by thinking it was ‘queer a manof comfortable means, ‘with a pretty daughter, should settle down here without. friends, business, or illâ€" health to influence him; and the fact that we didn’t exactly fall weeping on the neck of the first person who called aggravated their suspicions. And though we’ve lived down all that nonsense, I am still regarded with a sort of suspicion, because my name's nilâ€"English, my appearance somewhat Teutonic, and because I don’t publish particulars as to how ’I made my fortune, what it amounts .to, what takes me away at times, and whether Rosalie’s mother brushâ€" ed her hair back or wore a fringe." I-Ie paused, and when he resumed he spoke in a lower voice. “I tell you what I tell you because I feel sure, since you love Rosalie, you will reâ€" peat nothing, and because I don’t want you to think I said ‘110’ from selfish motives. They say I am a bit of a mystery! I am." He mixed a drink for himself from the bottle and the siphon and sipped it. “Well, George, the truth isâ€"well, the truth is I am so situated that I cannot let Rosalie marry before I am dead andâ€"respectany buried, or her life might be ruined, for someâ€" thingâ€"something might come out which would turn her husband against her and break her dear heart. Perhaps it is just as likely ito come out while she is single, but that wouldn’t be so bad as the other way. If she had a lover he would be free to leave her or to marry her, “knowing everything she knew; he wouldn’t marry her in the dark, to recoil later.” He glanced up and saw-a suspicious look of inquiry in Burton’s eyes, which was not unnatural or inexcus? able on the young man’s part, which convinced Mack he had enough. .“Well, I can’t say more without saying too much. Rosalie doesn’t dream I have a secret, and you must never let her think you do. Iâ€"I have been everything in the world to her, and she is more to me! She is sensi- ;tive--highly sensitiVe. If she were married and the truth came out, even but said if her husband stood by her, she would always feel that he. did 50 against his incli..3tions; and the lthought would be poison to her." He stopped and rose abruptly, and moving to the mantelpiece stared ’down into the fire. “I think I understand your motives the only thing I can rely on. i ever refer to the subject againâ€" please don‘t. Come here as pften as you can; you will always be heartily welcome. And if you can remain faithful to an undeclared love until I and my secret are buried my bones will lie easy, for my girl will have a worthy husband.” Burton did not reply, but simply held out his hand. Mack took it, and looked covertly at his halfâ€" avertcd face. “George,” he said, gently, "ifâ€"â€" Quick, if you are going now. I hear her on the stairs, and she will notice the change in you.” He hurried his visitor into the litâ€" tle hall, 'where the light was bad, and the met Rosalie. “ 01: going?” she said. “Yes, I must go now, Miss Mack; it is later than you think.” _ Mack relieved the farmer's embar- rassment by pressing him to come again the following day. “Father, what have you been sayâ€" ing to him?” said Rosalie, as Mack, having shut the front door, put his arm around her and led her back to the parlor. "Nothing, my childâ€"nothing.” She sat down and looked into the fire, while he filled his pipe. "I don’t expect you to tell me eVen white fibs, daddy,” she said, tenderly, going to him as he sank into his chair and kneeling by him. “His manner and his voice changed utterly while I was upstairs.” “You attach too much importance to trifles.” "They are not trifles, daddy,” she said, very gently. "Or, if they are, life is made up of trifles. Tell me truly, did he ask you for me, and did you say ‘no’?” “What makes you think such strange things, J.osalie, darling?” he asked, glancing at her keenly. “You must not say ’no,’ daddy," she said, waving his question away and pursuing her own ideas. "If he hasn't asked you yet, he will one day; and you must say ’yes,’ daddy â€"â€"you must say 'yes.’ ” , l-‘Tut, tut, Rosalie!- You are only a child,- there is plenty of time for you to think of marriage." "The only time for me to think of it is when he asks meâ€"only then." "'And since he hasn’t asked you, the time has not arrived," he said, rather gruflly. “But has he asked for your con- sent " she inquired, not to be evaded. “Daddy, don't try to de- ceive me, for I love him and I feel that he loves mcl": . “Can you think why I should with- hold my consentâ€"what objections I could raise to him?” he said, reach- ing out for the matches. “Of course not! I like him, and I know him to be straight. When the time comes for me to consent, I shallnot reâ€" fuse. Now, go to bed, Rosalie, for it is getting late.” She rose from her knees slowly with a thoughtful air, and, kissing him, went away. Mack finished his \ulhisky and soda at a gulp, and. rising, began to walk round the room. Rosalie's words had gone right to the core of his heart. He had known that she liked Burton, but never sus- pected that she loved him so deeply as she had implied. It hurt him to have deceived her in her love; it dis- tressed him to realize ..that he stood between her and her life’s happiness, and might stand there so long as to divide her from it for ever; and it terrified him to think that any 'day a blow might fall to crush her, to drive the man she loved out of her life, andâ€"â€" ‘X- * * ‘lt if it The next day Mack went on one of his frequent journeys to London, and as usual, he returned the day follow- ing. No one knew why he took such journeys, but they were quite a re- gular feature of his life, occurring about twice a month. Burton, how- ever, had noticed that Mack was subâ€" ject to periods of nervousness, exâ€" tending sometimes over days together and always ending in a journey to London, from .Which Mack almost inâ€" variably returned within forty-eight hours quite himself again.‘ He alâ€" ways brought Rosalie a present, and latterly he had generally had a box of cigars or a case of good wine for Burton. He returned from this particular journey with a beautiful set of furs for Rosalie and a. handsome case of cutlery for Burton. ’ “It’s awfully good of you, Mr. Mack,” said Burton, in accepting the gift, "but what’ll I do with two dozen knives and forks, when my table is never laid for more than one person? Do you mean itâ€"you don’t mean it ironically?" "No, George, I Mack, slowly. "It would make a. capital weddingâ€" present,” suggested Burton. “I can't hope to use ’em all myself.” "Well," said Mack, thoughtfully, “Rosalie and I will come across to- morrow night and christen two cheeseâ€"knives for you.” ~"Do.!” cried the farmer. "Do!" It was Rosalio’s first visit to Bur- ton’s farm, and Ashe straightway fell in love with the old homestead, which so delighted Burton that he became quite eloquent in extolling the comforts of the house. Mack sat in an armâ€"chair with a don’t,” answered Mr. Mack,” said Burton, rising too, [cigar between his teeth, while Rosalie and speaking in a dull tone. course, you are only judge of the situation; but “Of played the piano the best judgeâ€"the Burton in a couple of songs. I passionately and accompanied He was fond of music, cannot sonceive what can be the naâ€" [somehow it jarred on him that even-_ ture of your secret that it can keep ing, though Rosalie Rosalie and me apart, and yet you and Burton sang better than he re- rantly "by the way" as to suggest a sense of guilt of having forgotten him in the pleasure of remembering only each other. _ It dawned slowly on Mack’s mind that he was no longer necessary-â€" his love-task was done and another man was ready to step into his placeâ€"to oust him into the limbo of byways, and himself lead Rosalie along the broad, sunny highway of life. That night he sat up late at home concocting a letter. He reâ€"wrote it again and again, weighing each word and when he had addressed it he gathered all the other copies together and, with the blotting-paper he had used, burnt them, raking the ashes into dust afterwards. The next day he went to London and posted the letter at the General Post Office. He returned in the even- ing with a. handsome silver coffees set for Rosalie and a smoker’s cab- inet for Burton. He took the cabinet over to Bur- ton’s farm the following morning, receiving with astonishing dulness Rosalie’s many hints that she would like to accompany him. “You can call it a weddingâ€"present in advance, if you like, George,” he said, as the farmer led the way into the house. "'And if you’ve got a. minute or two to spare I’d like to speak to you.” ‘ Burton thanked him heartily, but failed to fully appreciate his signifiâ€" cant words in striving to guess the meaning of his strange manner. "You have told me that your famâ€" ily has been here, in this very house, for five generations?” said Mack, leaning on the table between them. ‘ ‘Yes, five generations.’ ’ "'And the Burtons have always been above suspicion?” "That is always said about here, and I’ve done my best to live up to it.” “Do you love Rosalie better than your honor?" The farmer started. That’s a difficult question, Mr. Mack,” he said, gravely. “I hoped you would say ‘yes," said Mack, after a brief pause, “but I am glad you have said 'no’; it’s the answer of an honest manâ€"the sort of man I‘d like my Rosalie to marry.” He spoke as if a great weight had been lifted off his mind, and held out his hand. ‘ "Will you take that?â€"-â€"it has other man’s blood on it.!” anâ€" “Good heavens, you are mad!” cried Burton, starting up. “You don't believe it?” Mack smiled, faintly. “No!” Burton laughed. It was a harsh laugh, for he had not recovered from the shock of Mack’s strange words. "Would you still love Rosalie and cleave. to her if you did believe it?” “Why, yes! Would the stain be on her innocent hand?" Burton answered inâ€" stantly, a touch of tenderness in his tone. “I’m satisfied,” said Mack, squarâ€" ing his shoulders and the eager look fading from his face. "Don’t ask any questions now; I’ll tell you in my own time.” He made a. move as if to leave, but stopped, and a pecu- liar smile crept over his face as he said: “If you can come over this evening and make Rosalie say ‘yes, I won’t say ‘no’ again." * it i r * i ‘ 'Daddy 1 ’ ' Mack looked up slowly at the opening door. He knew whom he would see; he knew what they would say. They came and stood before him, Burton flushed and nervous, Rosalie rather pale, her wonderful eyes shin- ing down at him. He looked up at them dully. “Daddy, whispered Rosalie, “he is going now.” Still Mack neither spoke nor show- ed he understood. He was fighting a battle against enormous odds, and it was not for the lovers, fresh from their first vows, to see the carnage. “Daddy, dear daddy, George has asked me to marry him. May I?" Mack nodded. “And may Heaven bless you both,” he murmured. Burton saw something in the fath- er’sface, Rosalie heard it in his voice; and they slipped out together, closing the door behind them. A little later Rosalie peepe‘d into the room and saw her father sitting at the table, with his face buried in his arms. She stole up to him and fell on her knees beside him. “Dear daddy, I shall be very sorry to leave you,” she said, in a sweet soft voice, “but I do love him so.” He turned to her quickly and kissed her, but still he did not speak. it if it fl- -)0 * It was noon the following Tuesday Mack went to London, where he did as he had always done on such oc- casionsâ€"drive to a Continental newsagent’s and consulted a file of Antwerp papers, turning straight to the issue of the previous Saturday. He found what he songht. It was something he had searched for in vain a score of times and more, and the 'vainness of his searches had en- gendered in him. a fierce sensation of gratitude. But now that he found it he experienced only a dull feeling of resignation. 13y daybreak next morning he was in Antwerp, whence he telegraphed to Burton to come secretly to him at but once, at a small hotel. Burton could have lost no time, played betterlfor he arrived in the evening. I .“We won’t talk here, George,’ said back to her, you will break it to her gently that I has’e met with an acci- dentâ€"I am dead. For her life’s sake you must lie to her. I surrender her to yon, and rely on you to protect her from all knowledge of what I tell you. I must be brief, for I have allowed myself too little time, and I have an appointment in a quarter of an hour. “George!” Mack’s lips were white and dry, his voice hollow and cold. “I am going to take the blow at my own time, so that it will fall only on me, and so that the loss of me shall be minimized to Rosalie by the gain of yourself. lie good to her is all I ask, and never let a hint of what I tell you reach her! It won't be difficult for I have carefully arâ€" ranged everything. Nol don’t speak Time is pressing. - “I was in business in this city, years ago, with a. man named Hartz. When my wife fell ill I sent her and Rosalie to the South of France. Ros- alie was about five then. I used to go to see them from time to time. My wife died, and I left Rosalie with some good people for a time, and re- turned to Antwerp to find that very day Hartz had robbed me of every penny I posse5sed and had absconded. He had not gone far, however. I found him three days later, and tracked him to a Wood which lies a mile or two to the south of this city. He had buried my money, there, and had gone to draw on it. I told you I had a man’s blood on my hands.- I have never attempt- ed to deceive myself that I killed him without murderous intent. I don't deceive myself now, nor you. And I buried him in the spot where he had buried my hard-earned for- tune. Then I fled with Rosalie, livâ€" ing quietly in remote villages under the name of Mackâ€"my name’s Mac- kinon. "A few Mack, as they met. “Let us go into the street. You did not tell Rosalie? That’s right. Well, when you go years back somebody bought the wood and, felling the trees, began building there. You un- derstand! The disappearance of Hartz and Mackinon had excited comment, but no suspicion: but there were things on Harts-imperishable thingsâ€"which must have brought about identification. Andâ€"and there was Rosalie. Twice a, month I went to London simply to see if the Antâ€" werp papersrecorded the finding of the body, for I knew I should he wanted at once. “I am taking the blow now, George and Rosalie must never know. I wrote to the police here a few days back saying where the body would be found, and making an appointment with the police for eight o’clock toâ€" night. They have found the body. Time flies. Don’t speakl It is jus- ticeâ€"justice tempered with mercy, since Rosalie need never know! I have ten minutes to get to the ren- dezvous, and I don’t want you to be seen with me. I know what the end will beâ€"I am prepared for it; and I go forward firmly. Be good to my little girl, and if it seems diffiâ€" cult to you to keep the truth from her, remember that it is not easy for me, but I go forward cOnIident you'll do it. Take my watch back to herâ€"- it will seem quite natural.” He held his watch and chain out separately, and dropped the chain as Burton blindly made to take them. . and Burton stooped unsteadily, groped about the wet pavement for the chain, with unsecing eyes. When he found the chain and looked up he .was alone.â€"~Lon(lon Tit-Bits. 4%.... WELL IN STRUCTED. Her head rested on his shoulder and her little hand lay confidingly in his. "Tell me, Alfred,” said the happy maiden, “how you ever came to pick me out as the girl you want- ed to marry." ' “Well, Dora,’ replied the ecstatic young man, in a. gush of confidence, “it was mother that put me up to it.”- W DEAR TO HIS HEART. “Will you have another helping?” asked the neighbor. "You seem very fond of our chicken.”- “And why shouldn’t I be?” re- sponded Suburbman, who had been invited to dinner, "when I can de- tect the flavor of our flowers in every morsel?” 'I‘I-IE OPERATORâ€"S REBUFF. “Have you a telegram for me?” asked a pompous railway official, stepping from his private car and accosting the agent at a small etaâ€" tion. “I’m blessed if I know,” said the operator, eyeing him critically. "Would your photograph be on it?" "Pretty? No, I won’t say baby is pretty," declared a young mother, "for I can speak of him impartially, even though he is my own, and that’s more than most mothers can do. He has lovely blue eyes, perfect in shape, hair like the morning sunshine; mouthâ€"well, no rosebud could be sweeter; complexion divinely fair; nose just too charming for anything; in fact, he's faultless; but I won't say he’s pretty.” Branniganâ€"“Come home and take supper wirl me, Flannigan.” Flanni- gnuâ€"“Shun, it’s past yer supperâ€" time now; yer wife’ll be as mad as a hatter.” Brunniganâ€"“That’s jist it; but she can’t lick the tw0 of us.” The immigration authorities at New York estimate that 1,000,000 aliens will land in the United States during this year. Last year the ,country received 812,870 immigrants. APPENDIGITIS PROBLEM IS IT OVER WHEN THE AP- PENDIX IS REMOVED? A French Surgeon’s Viewsâ€"Even Sir Frederick Treves Bias Doubts. Consul-General Guenther reports to the U. S. State Department, from statements contained in German papers, that appendicitis, or inflam- mation of the vermiform appendix, has assumed the character of becom- ing more and more a fashionable dis ease. Surgery has achieved great triumphs in this sphece, and has cured innumerable cases. of the dis- ease. The French surgeon, Roux, however, has asked the question, "Is appendicitis over if one carries his appendix in his pocket?" and his answer was not entirely affirmative. From the statements of Sir Fred- erick Treves, one of the foremost auâ€" thorities and physician of King Ed‘. ward, similar doubts appear. Ac- cording to the experience of this great expert, FAILURES MAY OCCUR, which he treats in two groups. On the one hand, the operation may result only in relief or an incomplete cure; on the other hand, complica- tions are to be feared which do not depend upon the surgical interven- tion. Only the surgeon is concerned to study the details of the'deducâ€" tions of Sir Frederick in order to more fully learn of the eventual dangers which may follow an operaâ€" tion. For the patients, it must be stated that an operation remains the preâ€"eminent remedy, if not the only one, from which a complete cure is to be expected. Dr. Pond of Liverpool has adâ€" vanced a new theory with reference to the origin other disturbance of the digestive organs, in The Lancet. He calls at- tention to the fact that such all-- ments can often be attributed to an»- timonial poisoning, and the source of the antimony taken up by man is said to be the rubber rings which are frequently used to close ALL SORTS OF BOTTLES. Dr. Pond has established the fact that such rings consist of almost oneâ€"third their weight of antimony. The antimony is not only dissolved by the mineral waters, containing al- kalics and organic acids, but these rubber rings, as daily observation shows, soon become brittle, and some of the compound falls into the contents of the vessels. Dr. Pond claims to have found that a frequently repeated introducâ€" tion of antimony can become the source of a series of disturbances of the nutritive and digestive system, especially through continued weaken- ing of the muscles of the stomach and intestines. In case his stateâ€" ment as to the contents of antimony in rubber rings is correct, his deâ€" ductions seem plausible, but with reference to appendicitis a confirmaâ€" tion of such connection must be awaited. . ~_+_____.___ A SLIDIN G BOAT. Slln'ms Along Surface of the Water at a Good Speed. The fact that a stone can skim the water if its flat surface strikes squarely has recently been put in practise in the construction of a. sliding boat by a French inventor, ,M. de Lambert. ’l‘he friction which is present when the dc Lambert boat slides over the water is very slight, and the power which is necessary in order to make the boat glide is not high. When the boat is at rest it is supported by floats. The boat constructed by M. de Lambert has a. total length of 20 feet, with a width of 10 feet be- tween the inclined planes upon which it slides. The boat has parallel floats resembling certain Asiatic canoes. The twa floats are very narrow and are united by cross- pieces, partly of wood and partly of aluminum, a metal which has been used to a large extent in the con- struction of the boat because of its slight weight. The motor used is a 12 horsepowâ€" er, but the essential parts of the boat are fixed sliding planes, ad- justed under the boat at carefully regulated distances from each other. These planes, which are made of wood, are immersed to a depth of several centimeters when the boat is at rest, and they are inclined at an angle which has been decided up- on after wide experimentation. The total weight of the boat is about 1,- 200 pounds, but in order to move this weight it requires .a motor of only 12 horse power, While in the case of automobile boats the motors required are 60, 80, and even 100 horse power. M. Ballet says that M. do Lam- bert’s boat has been timed by offici- al chronometcrs, and that the re- sults have been surprising. When the motor is started the boat com- mences to move with the planes still submerged, cutting the water hori- zontally. But this lasts only a. short time; the planes show an inâ€" stantaneous tendency to rise, and they are practically on the Water at the end of a few meters. Then the speed quickly increases because of the immense" diminution in resistâ€" ance. and on the water, or, more exactly, on a layer of air resting between the planes and the water, at. a speed of ’fourteen, fifteen or twenty-five miles an hour. of appendicitis and' soon the boat is sliding‘