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__ ._-..._. iiERE CGRKS ARE MADE ~â€" you have got some ready, I cannot re- fuse to touch it; it' looks so nice that my mouth waters." He spoke hurriedly. as though to help her recover her eqtlanimity. But her huge breast heaved spasmodically, and the tears overflowing her eyelids crept slowly down her cheeks. fresh air from which the sea fleet. was slowly vanishir g. be stopped now and then in his unsteady walk to chuckle over the night’s adventure and Sun‘- beain’s fear. How startled she had lacked l How she hated Gentleman Dan. “An’ roightly, too, 101', he’s a bad ’un. a down right bad ’un," he muttered. ll _..__.__‘___¢â€" ' mmmwmwnmmmm i m 250,000,000 MANUFACITURED YEARLY IN A FRENCH ’1‘0\\’N. f. fi+޴mfi+fi+§+b+m .; “143' CHAPTER X.â€"â€"(Continucd). “Little Sunbeam, did I not tell you i would help you? But I must first hear all youhave to say. Perhaps you ima- gine things worse than they are. Your father loves you. You yourself told me that he had always been good to you." Ah, yes, and so he has until just now. I cannot. understand his strange he..,v- 102â€"" She hesitated. Tell me what. has happen-ed. How can I help you if you keep me in the dark ?” interrupted Duncan. ~ You are sure that I shall be doing the right thing; that it will not harm him or even Gentleman Dan ?” she asked . cai‘mzstly. .x ‘ ,. He laughed. “How could you harm them? At present I have not the plea- sure of knowing who Gentleman Dan is, but-I think I can guess. and am right in saying that neither he nor your father deserve such consideration from you. But make haste, little girl. and be- gin your story. Old Simmons has gone til tell his master that we have burst in like thieves. They will both be back in. a moment. But why ever did you not tel. me an your trouble this morning? Could you not trust me ?" She smiled shyly, the color rushing to he}:m face. ’ou see, Aunt Half â€"a â€" ym' might “3â€"” y ndwl thought “I see i" he vociferated with a hearty laugh. “‘You thought I might be a deâ€" tective in disguise? Poor Sunbeam i" Im sorry," she stammcred. “But once father was caught by one who came to lodge at my aunt’s, and sheâ€"I alsoâ€" thought you might be one. I see how Stt‘I‘pld we both wereâ€"andâ€"J’ ‘ Never mind! I'm nothing half so useful, I can assure you. But I will help you, at all events, without hurting your father, or even Gentleman Dan. Tell me overythmg Sunbeam. Remember I am your friend 1" She narrated the whole day’s experi- ence in a quick, hurried voice, he listen- ing in silent anger. How could they frighten her to that extent? I-Iow‘dared they threaten her? “You see," she added naively. “he is my father. Therefore, at first I felt bound ,‘to obey. But, when I was face to ' . face With the thought of marrying Gen- tleman Dan. I felt also,_ihat I must make air‘atternpt-to evade that. I felt contain that in time my fathers wOuld' be heartily sorry for wishing it. And, as you know, [have succeeded so far, butâ€"â€"" "You will entirely, my little friend. Uncle Ralph and I will protect you." “But not at my father's expense?" she exclaimed, alarmed at the look of determination in his eyes. “And it is good of you to say that, but how can you really do it?“ - “That we have to arrange," began Duncan. “And here is my uncle him- self. Let us see what he will say to our story." He turned. as he spoke, to Sir Ralph, who stopped in the middle of the room, dancing from one to the ether wth a ook of amusement in his keen eyes. ' r “Well, young man, what ' is this I hear 2" he said, frowning. “You force your way in with a fainting damsel, and refuse to go Did I not tell you that I came here for solitude? And yet you bring a destroyer of peace into my nest! Explain yourself, my knight errant. How in the world did you manage to find Circe in thisspot ?" Sunbeam‘s face had clouded over with apprehension. The strange, wild-look- ing man was angry. And it was her fault! She burst in eagerlyâ€" “It was my fault entirely! I faintedâ€" and Mr. Sinclairâ€"” “Yes. yes, so I understand,” exclaimed Sir Ralph, nodding. “As is usual with your sex, young lady, you -werc the offender, and he came to your defence, thereby showing a ncbier attitude than that of Adam. eh? Well. and why did you faint? and how is it you lmower. ' Sinclair at all?" ' She opened her lips, eager to explain. But Sinclair stopped her with a signifi- cant glance. “Sit down. Uncle Ralph, and I will tell you all," he said. rising and offering his chair. Sir Ralph obeyed silently. the amused smile still on his face, whilst Duncan began to explain.- A few minutes later Sirltalph knew all that Sunbeam had told. and sat with his chin in his hand and his brow puck- ered. deep in thought. During the narrative ho had glanced at Sunbemn's face, and watched her with evident pleasure in his eyes. Revived by the stimulant and re-awakencd hope. she looked prettier than ever, her dark eyes full of eager anxiety. her cheeks flushed with excitement. Perhaps, he reflected, the burglar Bill had some other story to tell. And yet. why should be? What rogue of like calibre would stint and risk his life to educate an- other‘s child? He was a minai'itic old fool to imagine such a thing just because the girl had a pretty face and the man- tiers of a lady. “What do you propose doing now?" he demanded. turning to Sunbeam. “Cannot I go to London by the mail train?“ she asked, glancing at Duncan. “i am quite able to walk n..w. and if you would be so good as to go first to .1'.i'-.iit.l~lett~y and ask her to send me some money, Mr. Sinclair " She hesitated, half shy at making the remimt. “You see." she explained. “I i vulva REVENGE; on, THE CONVICT’S. DAUGHTER. She- .Iove, Duncan, I have‘it! cape, and your sister, good Adele, is the 0 no. on whom that light shone. 33 a i 3 a 33 a a a {a f 3 E a a fit if a? if E dare not go myself. now, for I have lost so catch me." much time that my father might “There‘s no necessity for you to do that. for I can lend you what you re quire,” interrupted Sir Ralph. your aunt can repay me later. your aunt must not even know where you could no doubt force her to tell him." “You or In fact. are or what Your father you do. “Poor auntie. She will be so unhappy. may think they have killed me. Mayn't I even write a line ‘2" “Well, we'll consider that when every- thing is settled," replied S'u' Ralph. “By She must. cs- very one to help us. We’ll put our heads together and arrange all now. Don't worry, Miss Sunbeam, GentlemanDan won'thave you yet." , ' The tours sprang to the girl's eyes. t "You mean I shall be able to escape, G__I “Yes. yes, you shall escape. But not by that train. for you may be sure they’ll watch Olnay station if they miss you be- fore it starts. No. you’ll drive through Olnay to Mordawn; the train leaves there at six. It's further,“ but they won't dream of your going there. Simmons can borrow a cart from the Half Way House, and he and I will drive you. I shall quite enjoy iti As for you, Dun- can, you must know nothing at all when you return to Sea View Cottage. Trust me. i’ll help Sunbeam.” “Thank you, Uncle,” exclaimed the young man, with more fervor in his voice than was necessary. “And as you say, Adele will be the very one to help us also. I'll write to her new. Sun- beam can take the note." “When we‘ve made our plans. my boy," replied his uncle. “Then you‘ll go back to your diggings and leave the rest to me. For you must not be late, or their suspicions may be aroused. I feel just like a young man again myself! As for you, Sunbeam, you can rest. until, we want you.‘ You need fear nothing. You'ltbe'saved.‘ This isn’t the {list time I’ve arranged a similar affair. Besides, young man,” no added, mentally, his eyes on his nephew‘s face, "the sooner the child is out of your way. the better fo.‘ you both and ‘for‘ _I-‘.iieen's.peaeo ‘of mind; Beautiful as Sunbeam is, she is no match fora Sinclair, and I seeyou already: lake mere interest in lier'affairs thuniyou should 1"» ~ . ~â€" CHAPTER XII. Bill Green stumble-d out of the Half Way House and stood, swaying uneasi- ly in the middle of the silent road. Not a being was in sight as far as he could And yet he could have sworn that he saw Sunbeam looking at. him a min- ute ago. He staggered round the yard, blinking at the thick darkness as he strolled into the empty outhouses. Then hesitated, after a fi'uitless‘sea"ch, at the top of the lane leading to the wood. Gould she have escaped? Should he go and see if Gentleman Dan had missed her? No. It was impossible for her to get away. Dan was too good a keeper. He must have imagined he saw her peering in at him through the bar window, just as he fancied he saw all kinds of faces pop- ping up in the darkness around. She had not been out of his thoughts all day, so it. was natural that he should see her scared face everywhere. i-Ieliy would say he had been drinking too much and that the spirits affected his brain. Perhaps she would be right. At any rate, he would go home now. and come back to Dan’s early in the morn- ing. The night‘s confinement would break Sunbcam's spirit better than any: thing. And he felt convinced that she tail neither the strength nor the pluck to get away. No doubt she had cried herself to sleep. l-le stumbled back to the road. Though the warm light in the inn windows called t him, and his lips felt the need of moistening, he turned his back on it bravely. The next day might be a hard lie could wast-e no more time now over pleasure. Hetty also had to be dealt with. and his senses were muddled enough. If he drank more he might tell her too much and give the game away. He zigzagged dotvn the slight incline, past the Captain’s cottage. A light burn: ing in the window facing film reminded him of Sunbcain‘s words. He stood still watching it. “There might be suinmat there, after ailâ€"it’s lonely enoughâ€"and them sea- faring chaps are siywbut I gived my word; I’m a man of my word. He's been good to her, some as meself. I’ve kept my word from the firstâ€"now she must pay me back." - lie staggered forward little guessing I’lis feelings softened towards the girl he loved. and he forgot how angry she had made him by her obstinate refusal to obey. But the thought of proving his anxiety to shield her by going to the rescue and comforting her in her sorrow. did not occur to him. or. if it did, met with no ei’lcourageinent. For he saw no actual cruelty inwhat he had done. Sunbeam's Wilt had to be broken in, and the means he had taken for such a result seemed fair enough. But, as his senses cleared in the soft “She’ll think I'm ’ard. but know what I means. she don't But she must bend first, then I'll be even with Dan. If the worst comes to the worst there‘s one thing Het an' me can do to save ’er from him. He ain't always to have his own way. Only it wouldn’t 'avo done to tell hei that to-night. A little fright won't do “or no ’arm." Nevertheless, he felt ashamed of him- self when. on hearing the gate go, Hetty herself appeared in the lighted doorway of Sea View Cottage. “What an age you‘ve been i" she be- gan, then. seeing he was alone, her voice grow shrill with anguish as she exclaimed: 'W‘here's Sunbeam? What have you done with her i" lie pushed past her into the kitchen. “She's all right," he replied, avoiding her searching glance and throwing him- self heavily into a chair. “Where is she then? What have you done with her ?" she reiterated, growing white with apprehension. “She’s safe enough, I tell you. She ain't comin' back to-night. I've left. ’er in safe ’ands. So you can ’old your row." But the ready tears had gushed from the frightened woman‘s eyes. and she seized his arm excitedly. “Where is she“? Tell me. Bill. I’ll fetch her. I won’t let her stay away all night." He laughed uneasily and dug his hands deeper into his pockets. “It ain’t likely I'm goin' to let you spell my giine. is it now? An' surely you can trust me! Iwon’t ’urt 'cr. Only she must give in to me. It don't matter to you where she is. You would- n't find her if you locked all night, but to comfort you she‘s safe and in good hands. To-morrow you shall see her. It‘s no good 'owling for I shun‘t say any more. She's as much mine as yours." “But you've no right to ill-treat her. nor really to marry her to your Dan. I‘ve a say in that matter. She's an angel. I won't see her tied to the devil. I'.l go to prison myself first. Aye, and if you don't deal fair by her, I’ll go straight toâ€"«" “Hold your row, ’ave you ever known. me 'arm a living bein', let alone 'er? She's safe. you bet, and the less you say the better for you, lietty Green. Go to bed and make up your mind that I know what I'm about. There’s no call for luri‘y. Dan's a gentleman. spite of a‘l. Iiushl What’s that?” A low knock at the door sounded through the small house. ' She dried her tears. “That's Mr. Sinclair. He's been out late to-nlght. Walked to Olnay after tea. And I suppose he’s just walked back." .Bill raised his heavy-hand. His blood- shot eyes narrowed as, he looked into her face. ’ ‘- . . “Ile's been to the town, has he?" he murmured, a note of anxiety creeping into his voice. “Wliat's-~lie iWU-"doill’ there ?" She shrugged her shoulders. “flow can I tell? Ask him," she rc- plied leaving the room and walking quickly down the narrow passage. With an oath he sprang from his chair, followed her and. pushing her roughly against the wall, opened the door to Sinclair, who entered, saying“- “I’m sorry I‘m so late, Miss Green. I started back later than I intended. Iiallo, it‘s you, is it ?" he added, looking keenly into the man's red face. “Yes, sir, it‘s me. Did you walk all the way ’ome? Funny, for I come from there. too." “Did you ?" exclaimed Sinclair, laugh- ing; good-hiiinorcdly his eyes seeking the woman‘s, as she stood silent behind he:- brother. “What, a pity i didn‘t know, Green, we might have come back loge flier. My walk was a lonely one. I don't think much of Olnay either. I couldn't get a thing I wanted. I hope you were more fortunate." Green granted an inaudible reply. and rolled back to the kitchen, his suspiciom lulled. But for all that he eyed his sister flirtively as she hustled about getting a hasty supper ready "for her ledger. “What do ye think of .'im. d'ye think he's a 'tcc‘.’" he asked at last, as she lifted a steaming saucepan off the fire. She shook her head. ‘ “I don't know. Anyways he likes Sun- beam. And if he knows CflO isn't here, twillâ€"~73 “Old your row, you blithering idiot. Why should he know? But. all the same. what did he go to Olnay for to- day. queer that." He drew a whiskey bottle towards him and poured some of the spirit out' with his glittering eye fixed greedin upon it. "So Sunbeani‘s in Oinay. is she?" exclaimed iietty,‘pausing to watch him. He winked 'portentously over his glass. No, she ain‘t. That‘s a blind, I ain't put me feet inside Olnay. She‘s safe. In the morning, as I say, she'll do as I want and I'll bring her back.” “She isn‘t with Dan ?" she asked in an anxious breathless voice. lie sniffcxl contemptuousiy, in â€"â€" “Iii she was, Dan‘s a man 0‘ his word. He'll leave her alone, you bet. until I gives ’er to ’im in the proper manner. Go and look after your grinning loft and stuff his ears with what nonsense you can." She turned away with a sinking heart. For she thoroughly understood that no- thing would make him divulge what he was hiding from her. The tears stood in her eyes as she entered Siiuilair's room. lie glanced at her simupisilly longing to allay the feelings he knew wrre disturb- ingi her. ‘ ‘ “You look tired. Miss ONTO“: I’m afraid I have kept you no." he said. tentatively, drawing his chair to H‘J‘ table. A.-, for mutt-cr- suppcr,'I ought to have told you not in: trouble. I had some at ()lmiy. Pint. ‘3 ; Is Sunbeam ill ?" he asked kindly. self. "What is the matter? Can I help you? “Sunbeam is all right. She‘s “I'm troubled. In a a respectable body. And private feelings can‘t be uncovered to anyone but one something bothered me. sound Where French President Was Born -â€" asleep. I- hope," replied Hefty, claspin‘g her trembling hands. yes, but no one can help me. Bill, you see, is‘ over fond of the bottle. quiet place like this that is a trouble to “'hole of the Population Lives on Cork. Pretty nearly all the corks used in France and a very large proportion of the entire 'worid's supply are made In I’m sorry I allowed you to see Mezm, a vii.age of 2,700 inhabitants in. But you must- Gaseony. It is a picturesque, old fash- n'l think it's alout Sunbeam. Why, her toned place approached by mads which father would punch the head off any one lead between headgcmws' what upset her t after." its houses She‘s we“ looked are all shiny white and they cluster amid groups of plane trees. There is A 90‘) stifled ht” WOYd-i- Duman 100k“ a battlemeilted cathedral that looks aim at into his plate. He felt puzzled at her attitude. Was she in the plot against her niece. after all? Then he recalled what Sunbeam had said about their sus- picions of him, and raising his head. smiled into her troubled face. “That‘s all right! But I wish I could help you, although your trouble doesn‘t concern Sunbeam, for whom I would do l’e‘dIS before he became President. anything. For she reminds me ofâ€"-of a sister I dearly love-I would help you gallon of the young '1 medizeval fortress. Only a few miles away, at Nerac. President Failicres was born. He'st'ill has his home there when he retires to private life. lie is a large wine grow- er and he is greatly interested in the cork cutters, whose Senator he was for It used to be an annual custom for a. deIe~ men and pretty gladly if ever you cured 10 1011 me your girls of Mezin to visit him for the pur- wocs, please remember that." He spoke earnestly. Ilis voice trem- bled a little. “Thank you, sir: you're very kind. But the worrits of a. woman like me gener- ally straighten "themselves alone," she replied, with a sigh, moving towards in: door. He stopped her. sayingâ€"â€" “Do you ‘know, Miss- Green. I've r» strange idea. I fancy you think I'mpnoi what I profess to be. That. in fact. you suspect me of being a detective. It‘s funny, isn'tit, but since you told me about that one who lodged with you years ago, I've had the idea. absurd though it seems. Funny; isn't it?" “for, sirl VV'hat an ideal ’As if ‘- oouldn‘t see you're a gentleman born ." exclaimed I-Ietty, raising horrified hands. but coloring hotly. Sinclair throw back his head with a merry laugh. “.Yes, it's a queer idea. I know. But there, We told you, and you don't be. lieve it! Do you. bonnizse~â€"â€""v . “Of course not i" slur- ejaculated. “That‘s all rightt Then if ever you require my help, you‘ll. remember tha' I‘m merely a. young man with plenty of- spare time and the anxiety to do a good turn to one who has been a mo ther to him." ’ “Lor, Mr. Sinclair. And I only do my duty. But I'll remember yes, I'll re member," murmured Hefty, as she step pod from the mom. ,, - But outside she paused. fron'ning. “I wonder what he means? Is that r: blind? Can he have heard anything? And yet he looks so kind. so rcstful.. He would be a help fiche-could believe him But those “’tecs" are unto all sorts o." dodges. and the best looking men arr always the deceitfullcst." _ . With which reflection ’sbe’ wen' mournfully to bed to weep over Sun beam's fate, wondering what rad be come of her and why Bill had changed so entirely toward the child. (To be continued). .. _.. ,5... __ CRIME DE'I‘ECTENG TODAY. Different Methods Now Than That of Ten Years Ago. Ten years ago detectives relied upon stereotyped melhods of discovering crime. Descriptions of the persons want-ed were posted upon every police station throughout the country, and that was considered enough. Now the sys- tem has undergone a drastic change. uw' thc'methods of the detectives of t'o-day are no less romantic than those of the sleuihhounds of fletion. The Abbe Delarue vanished some little time ago, and the French rolico were at a loss to discover any trace of him. That he had been done to death was taken four granted, till a detective scarched the surrounding country with a hyena. T hose animals can scent a dead body from afar. whether buried or not. but in this instance the animal showed no signs of having discover-ed any such horror. .- Then the police turned their affirms” elsewhere. and finally they discovered the missing abbot in Bi'ussels'alive and well. Another novelty .in the elucidation of crime is the adoption of the method of compulsory confession. Recently Paris detective suspected a man of a brutal murdmn but the evidence neces- sary was lacking. Without hesitation. however, he accosted the suspect in a cafe~ and accused him of the crime. “Look !" he said. “The third button is missing from your left boot. Here it is. I picked it up in the house of your victim. Confess!“ This was the iii-crest bluff, but the sus poet at once confessed. _..._..._._t11._ ..__â€".. i’lTY Till". POOR MAD. A laborer was engaged in the grounds of an asylum. and received bistructioiu: in pay no attention whatever to the I'd- marks of .the patients. ~ Some little time after he CLiiimcm-nd work the governor of the asylum. a well- known doctor. looking at the pmgirats of tho work. mildly suggested one al-tora» tion. The workman dug steadily on. and never lifted his iii-ad. The doctor raised his voice, but thr man. without answering. wrnt on dig- ging energetically. t-Cl‘tf‘fl. stormed, and finally thundui-rxi (ml : “no you know who I am ?" ’l'hn laborer slraightemvl his back. lacked fit him a nuniite. and. shaking this ii nil. sorrowfully exclainud: “tin-tr elm)! i am sorry for ye," and y. «if? on calmly with his work. The duf‘tOf‘ titres» of inviting him to the cork cut- icrs’ fete, August 15. He altvays went, and he is immensely popular in Mez’in. Of the 2,700 inhabitants of Mezin, 1,500 'nen, women and children are engaged n the cork industry. There are thirty- f‘ive cork factories in the village for all 7s sleepy, ancient appearance. and they ro‘ onlv absorb more than half 'the lo- cal working force, but draw on all the other villages ' FOR MILES AROUND. Mezlii and its environs live on cork and very £0111 living they make of it. t‘here is no more piospenous section in .~‘i‘aiico than this. Gascony has “the best soil in the world for cork trees. All through the .ix-resis of Cars and the Landes there are thousands of trees of medium height with gnarled; boughs and their foliage 'i'UHCQH'LI'ated in a gray green ball. The “abust trunk is covered with a thick. rough brownish gray bark to which many lichens and mosses cling. This : the cork tree. The attack on it is made in June of ach year. Then a regiment of country- men “in the long linen blouses and blue has which are the costume_of the coun- '=ry invade the woods. picking out the. u‘."’]l-kn-own fro-cs to flay them. With zikce'n knife a-carclc is drawn around 'he trunk close to the ground and an- other high up, just where the branches begin. Then a long incision is. made "mm one circle to the other. The pro- of taking off the great sheet of bark thusoutl‘ined. is a niost'delicate We. It is rough. hard, brittle, 'yihis raw dark. but it’inust not be split or even :racked. -‘ -_ , .: t. .' . . When it is removed the tree trunk imks like the flayed carcass of an ani- mal. The wood is ruddy and drops of i’:ddeil gum cxuding‘fi‘om it suggest drops of blood- The tree is not injur- howevcr. The bark soon begins to grow again, and by the next year it-i:2 ready for another stripping. Then the bark. rolled up in 20‘) pound hurdles. is taken to Mezin. But. there is not enough of it. Bark from Spain. Portugal. Chrsica and Algiers also ar- rives there to the extent of THOUSANDS OF TONS. Every morning at dawn practically all the population except the old wo- men and the children flock to the fac- "-:iries. The strong men have the job ~;-n3>aring the cork for the cutters. It. has in hr C-"IIVF‘J'Ifld from rough, friable tinder into soft. elastic substance with which every one is familiar. First it IS steeped in a warm bath of dilute liv- dioch‘oriiio and omiic acids. It comes out wh’!n and soft ard while still wet it is laid out on flat. tables to take the curvature out of it. When it dries out fir-rounth it is ready for the cutter. Then come the shavers. who with light, curve-l hatchet; remove the rough surface and finish it. with rusps. After these the slicers divide it uj) En‘o squares acmrrii'ig to the Size of the cork).- that. are in he made from 'it. The final op- eration is performed by girls who feed it. machines the St'flf"i‘-'-)S. which come out perfectly shape-l, corks. pound and frol'shed, cylindrical or bevelled, accord- ing as the machinelins been set. It takes the girl a month to learn how to run the machine. Motrin turns out from li.f.)flfl.mfl to 5.- flOllfiiX) corks a Work. The annual out out is in the neighborhood of 250.09 .- 01in corks. They vary enormously in price. A gmd champagne cork is worth It cents conthncsl in the fan: 'F-I‘V. Small corks for vials Illiliif! out of waste to a large extent sometimes a!" at several dozen for a rent. The i‘no'iov that is realized on Mwin’s corks each \‘ml.’ is esltiiiaiad as not far from $750.09.). , Wangâ€"M“ NOT EMOTIONAL. Staying at an ion in Scotland. a shoot- ing nartv found their sport. much infer» fared with lw r'iin. Still, wet or fine. “.u- old-fashioned ital-«iii‘ieim'. httllLEllllf in hall. iiiersistcnllv pointed to “Set "air." -\t length one of the party drew 'lze landlord's attention to the. glass, say- inii: ' “Don't you think how. Humid. there's “l'Vthillllfl the mailer with your glass ‘?" “No sir." replied lliniahl. with dignity; “she's a good glass and :i WAV-f‘l‘flll glass, but she‘s no moved wi lrillcs," flu.