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tim&gr )FJm~ ~*-S"--1 T$: "•»# THB P IjAJlMj^lBLftTiitkk# • 7 . RACHEL CARTBfc, SYNOPSIS.--Kenneth Gwynne was five years old in the spring of 1112 when hts father ran away from Kentucky with Rachel Carter, a widow. They took with them Minda Carter. Rachel's baby daughter. In the fall Kenneths mothtr died of a broken heart. His grandparents brought him up to hate the name of Rachel Carter, "un evil woman." Kenneth, now a young lawyer, seeks lodging for the night at the farm of Phlneas Striker, near Lafayette, Ind. It appears that Ken's father has recently died and that he Is on his way to ta*e possession of extensive lands he has inherited. The Strikers bought their farm of Ken s father «nd a mortgage runs to his father's widow--the Rachel Carter. A beautiful nineteen-yearold girl, who says she knew his father well and refuses to give her name, is visiting the Strikers. Ken 1p much interested In her. In tho morning the girl Is gone. Striker tells Ken she was planning to elope with Barry Lapelle and her mother came In the night and took her home. A* Ken goes on his way Striker tells him: "That girl was Viola Owyn an she's your half-sister." A handsome. dashing young fellow rides up and Introduce* himself as Barry Lape lie. George Barr McCutcheon Ceprrfght by Dodd. Mead * Company. Ino. CHAPTER IV--Continued. "Principally In New York and Philadelphia," responded the other, subdus tog a smile. "My fame seems to have .preceded me, Mr. Lapellf. The farmer %lth whom I spent the night was thoroughly fampiar with my affairs." Ton are an object of Interest to frery one In this section," said Lapelle, tbdlfferently. "Where did yon spend fhe night?" "At the farm of a man named Striker --Phlneas Striker." Lapelle started. His body appeared to stiffen in the saddle. "Phlneas ^Striker?" he exclaimed, with a swift, searching look Into the speaker's eyes. Suddenly a flusli mantled his cheek. "Ton were at Phlneas Striker's last night?" "Yes. We had lost onr way and tame to his place jnst before the storm," said "®"~"fcenneth, watching his companion narrowly. Lapelle's face was a study. Doubt, indecision, even dismay, were i expressed in swift succession. "Then you must have met--bnt no. tt Isn't likely," he sald^ in some confusion. Kenneth hesitated a moment, enjoying the other's discomfiture. Then ha said: "I met no one there except my sister, who also happened to be rf^end- Ing the night with the Strikers." The color faded from Lapelle's fac&, leaving It a sickly white. "Were you in any way responsible for--well, for . her departure, Mr. Gwynne?" he demanded, his eyes flaming with swift, sadden anger. "I was not aware of her departure until I arose this morning, Mr. Lapelle. Striker informed me that she went away before sunrise." For a moment Lapelle glared at him suspiciously, and then gave vent to a contemptuous laugh. "A thousand apologies," he said, •bragging his shoulders. "I might have known yon would not be consulted." "I never laid-eyes on my half-sister until last night." said Kenneth, determined to hold his temper. "It is not . likely that she would have asked the advice of a total stranger, Is It? Especially in so simple1 a matter as going home when she felt like it" Lapelle shrugged his shoulders •gain. "I quite forgot that you are a lawyer, Mr. Gwynne," he said, drily. "Is It your purpose to hang our your shingle in the town of Lafayette?" "My plans are indefinite."/ "You could do worse, I assure yon. The town is bound to grow. It will be an Important town In a very few years." And so the subject uppermost In the minds of both was summar'ly dismissed. They came at last to the point where - a road branched off to the right. "Follow this road," said Lapelle; pointing straight ahead. "It will take yon Into the town. I must leave you here. I shall no doubt see you at Johnson's inn. In case you intend to stop there. Good morning, sir." """ c He lifted his bat and, touching the _ spirited mare with the gad, rode swiftly away. A few hundred feet ahead he overtook his mud-spattered friend and the two of them were soon lost to sight among the trees. * Kenneth fell Into a profpund cogitation. Evidently Lapelle had waited at 1 the edge of the forest for a report of some description from the farmhouse belonging to Rachel Carter. In all probability Viola was still at the farm with her mother, and either she had sent a message to her lover or had received one from him. Or was It possible I<tpelle had dispatched his man to the , farmhouse to ascertain whether the girl was there, or had been hurried on Into the town by her mother. In anj^ , case, the disgruntled lover was not content to acknowledge himself thwarted or even discouraged by the miscarriage of his plans for the nit;ht Just ended. Kenneth found himself wondering if the Incomprehensible Viola would prove herself to be equally determined. If so, they would triumph over opposition an^be married, whether or no. He was conscious of an astounding, almost unbelievable desire to stand with Rachel Carter in her hoaLarf trouble. His thoughts went back, as they ; ^ had done more than once that morn he was with a sister--and what was he to do about it?, Zacharlah, observing the dark frown upon his master's face, and receiving no answer to fc thrice repeated question, fell silent. *• The first log cabin they had- seen since entering the wood nestled among the scrub oaks of the hill hard by. The front wall of the hut was literally covered with the pegged-up skins of foxes, raccoons and what were described to Kenneth as the hides of "llnxes," but which, In reality, were from the catamount. A tall, bewhlskered man, smoking a corncob pipe, leaned upon the rail fence, regarding the strangers with lazy interest. Kenneth drew rein ind inquired how far it was to Lafayette. "'Bout two mile an' a half," replied the man. "My name is Stsfln, Isaac Stain. I reckon you must be Mister Kenneth Gwynne. I heerd you'd be along this way some time this morn- InV "I suppose Mr. L&pelle informed yon that I was coming along behind," said Kenneth, smiling. '"Twuzn't Barry Lapelle as told me. I hain't seen him today." "I met him back along the road. He was coming this way." "There hain't no other road. I reckon he turned off Into the wood an' 'lowed you to pass," said Mr. Stain alowly. < "But he was in great haste to reach town. He may have passed when you were not--" "He didn't pass this place unless he was astraddle of an eagle er somethin' like that," declared the other, grinning. "I guess he took to the woods, Mr. Gwynne, for one reason er 'nother, an' it must ha' been a mighty good reason, 'cause from what I know about Barry Lapelle he alius knows which way he's goin' to leap long before he leaps. He's sorter like a painter in that way." "It Is very strange," he said, frowning. It was suddenly revealed to him that If Lapelle had tricked him It was because the messenger had brought word from Viola, at the farmhouse, and that the baffled lovers might even now be laying fresh plans to outwit the girl's mother. This fear was Instantly dissipated by the next remark of Isaac Stain. "Nope, It wuzn't him that told me about you, pardner. It wuz Violy Gwyn. She went by here with her ma, jes* as I wuz startin' off to look at my traps,--'long about. seven o'clock, I reckon--headed for town. She sez to me, sez she: 'Ike, there'll be a young man an' a darky boy come ridin' this way some time this forenoon an' I want you to give him a message for me.' 'With pleasure,' sez I; 'anything you ask,' sez L 'Well.' sez she, 'it's this. Fust you ask him ef his name is Kenneth Gwynne. an' ef he sez It Is. then you look an' see ef he Is a tall feller an* very goodlookln', without a- beard, an' wearin' a blue cape, an' when you see that he answers that description, why, you tell him to come an' see me as soon as he gits to town. Tell him It's very Important.' .'All right,' sez I, TU tell him.*" "Where was her mother all this time?" ~ "Seftin* right there in the buggy beside her, holdin' die reins. Where else would she be?" Did she say anything about my coming to see her daughter?"# Nope, dhe don't talk much, she don't. You see, she's In mournln' fer They <*er# fording a creek some distance beyond Stain's cabin* when Kenneth broke the silence that had followed the conversation with the hunter by exploding violently: "Under no circumstances--and that'* all there Is to it. I cannot go to that woman's house. It Is unthinkable." They progressed slowly up a long hill and came to an extensive dealing, over which perhaps hhlf a dozen farmhouses were scattered. Beyond this open space they entered a narrow strip of wood and, upon emerging, had their first glimpse of the Wabash river. Stopping at the brow of the hill, they looked 'long and curiously over the valley into which they were about to descend. The panorama was magnificent. To the left flowed the swollen, turgid river, high among the willows and sycamores that guarded the low-lying bank. Far to the north It could be seen, a claylsh, ugly monster, crawling down through the heart of the bowl-like depression. Presently the travelers came upon widely separated cabins and gardens, and then, after passing through a lofty grove, found themselves entering the town itself. Signs of life and enterprise greeted them from all sides. Here, there and everywhere houses were In process of erection--log cabins, frame structures, and even an occasional brick dwelling place. Turning Into- what appeared to be a well-traveled road (he afterwards found It to be Wabash street), Kenneth came In the course of a few minutes to the center of the town. Here was the little brick courthouse and the Jail, standing In the middle of a square which still contained the stumps of many of the trees that originally had flourished there. At the southwest corner of the square was the tavern, a long story and a half log house, and it was a welcome sight to Gwynne and his servant, both of whom were ravenously hungry by this time. Half a dozen men were standing ln» front of the tavern when the newcomers rode up. Kenneth dismounted and threw the reins to his servant. Landlord Jbhnson hurried out to greet him. CHAPTER V The End of ttfe Long Road. "'We've been expecting you, Mr. Gwynne," he said in his most genial manner. "Step right In. Dinner'li soon be ready, and I reckon you must be hungry. Take the bosses around to the stable, nigger, and put 'ein up. Mrs. --er--ahem ! I mean your stepmother sent word that you were on the way and to have accommodations ready for you. Say, I'd like to make you acquainted with--" - • . . "My stepmother sent word "to you?" demanded Kenneth, incredulously. "She did.- What would you expect her to do, long as she knew you were headed this way? I admit she Isn't specially given to worryin' about other people's comforts, but, when you get right down to it, I guess she considers you a sort of connection of hers, spite of everything, and so she lays herself out a little. Bat, as I was sa.vin', I'd like to make you acquainted with some of our leadin' citizens. This is Daniel Bugher, the recorder, and Doctor Davis, Matt Scudder, Tom Benhrldge and John McCormick. Before we go in I wish you'd take a look at the new courthouse. We're mighty tfroud of that building. There Isn't a finer courthouse In the state of Indiana--or* maybe I'd better say there won't, be if it's ever finished.".. - "I noticed it as I came by," safd the newcomer, dismissing the structure with a glance. "If you will conduct me to my room, Mr. Xohn§on, I--" "Just a second," broke in the landlord, his gaze fixed on a Norseman who bad turned Into the streW some distance below. "Here comes Barry La- M8he Went by Here With Her Ma." her husband. I guess he wuz your pa, wuzn't he?" "Yes," said Kenneth briefly. "She wants me to come to her house?' "I reckon so." "Well, I thank you Mr. Stain. You are very kind to have waited so long for me to arrive. I- "Oh, I'd do a whole lot more'n that fer het," said the hunter quickly. "You oat-^of see. I've knowed her ever since she wuz knee-high tQ.«a duck. She wuzn' more'n five or six when I brung her an' her folks up tl»e Wabash in my tag, to Viola's artful account of his' perogue, all the way from Vlncennes, own father. He had felt sorry for her during and after the recital and bow, with the truth revealed to him, he was even more concerned than before-- for he saw unhappiness ahead of her If she married this fellow Lapelle. He went even farther back and recalled his own causti opinions of certain young rakes he had known in the East, wherein he had Invariably ease vera ted that if he "had a sister he would eotpar aee her dead <Jhaa •trrM to that raeetl* Wdl--hen i Under wohblf.' an' It wuz me that took her down to St. Louis when she went off to school --her an' some friends of her pa'su Skinny, gangling sort of a young 'Uh she wuz, but let me tell you, as purry as a plcter. I alius said she'd be the purtiest woman In all creation when she got her growth an' filled out, an', by hokey, I wuz right. Got to be movln' along, have you? Well, goodby/ an' be a little keerful when you come to Durkegi rnn hridge, it'i pelle, down there hy. .that clump of trees. He's the most elegant fellow we've got In town, and you'll want to know lilm." "I have met Mr. Lapelle,4' Interrupted Kenneth. "This morning, out In the country." "You don't say so!" exclaimed Johnson. The citizens exchanged a general look of surprise. "Thought you said he went down the river on yesterday's boat," said Scudder. "That's Just what he did," said Johnson, puzzled. "Packed some of his things and said he'd be gone a week or so. He must have got off at Attica-- but, no, he couldn't have got here this soon by road. By glory, I hope the boat didn't strike a snag, or a rock, or run ashore somewhere. Leeks klhd of serious, boys." "Couldn't he have landed almost anywhere In a skiff?" Inquired Gwynne, his eyes on the approaching horseman. "Certajnly he could; but why? He had business down at Covington, he said." He told be this morning he had very Important business here. That is why he could not ride in with me," said Kenneth, affecting Indifference. "By the way. la he riding his own horse?" "Yes," said Benbridge. "That's his mare Fancy. He must have landed at La Grange, rowed across the river and hoofed It up to Fell's farm. But what do you suppose made him change bis mind so suddenly?" He's working tooth and nail against the Wabash and Erie that's projected to run from Lake Erie to the mouth of the Tippecanoe, Mr. Cwyune," said one of the citizens. "But it's coming through In spite of him and all the rest of the river hogs." "I see," said the young man, a grim •mile playing about his lips. He knew that the mare Fancy had been In waiting for her master when he clambered ashore on the river bank opposite La Grange, and he also suspected that the little steamboat had remained tied up at the landing all night long and well Into the morning, expecting two passengers who failed to come aboard. Lapelle rode up at this Instant. He came straight to Gwynne, smiling cordially. l eee yon beat w JfcAftnr we parted 1 decided to cut through the woods to have a look at Jack Moxley's keelbont, stuck In the mud on this side of the river. Happy to have you here with us, and hope yon will like us well enough to stay." ] "Thank you. I shall like yon all better after I have had something to eat," said Kenneth. "And drink," added Lapelle. It was then that Kenneth noticed that his eyes were slightly blurred and his voice a trifle thick, fie had been drinking. "What turned you back, Barry?" Inquired McCormick. "Thought yon were to be gone a week or--" "Changed my mind," said Lapelle, curtly, and then, apparently on second thought, added: "I got off the boat at La Grange and crossed over to spend the night at Martin Hawk's, the man you saw me with this morning, Mr. Gwynne,. He is a hunter down Middleton way. I fish and hunt iivlth him a good deal." Without another word, he strode up the steps, across the porch and into the tavern, his head high, his gait noticeably unsteady. "Martin Hawk I" growled the landlord. "The ornerlest cuss this side of h--1. Plain no-good scalawag. Bferry'll find it out some day." "I wouldn't trust Mart Hawk as fur as AI could throw a thousand-pound rock," observed Mr. Johnson, compressing his lips. "Well, come on In, Mr. Gwynne, and slick up a bit The dinner bell will be rlngin' In a few minutes, and I want you to meet the cook before you risk eatln' any of her victuals. My wife's the cook, so you needn't look scared." Robert Gwyn's son is always welcome at my store and my home," said one man. cordially. "We didn't know till last fall that he had a son, and-- well, I hope you don't mind my saying we couldn't believe It at first." "Yon spell the name different from the way he spelled it," answered Bugher, the recorder. "I noticed It in your letters, and It struck me as queer." "My father appears to have reverted to the original way of spelling the name," said Kenneth, from the upper step. "My forbears were Welsh, you see. The manner of speHlng it was changed when they came to America, over a hundred years ^go." When Kenneth returned to the dining room, he found Johnson waiting there with his wife and two of his comely daughters. They were presented to the new guest with due informality, and then the landlord Went out upon the front porch to ring ttie dinner bell. "I guess you won't be stayln' here long, Mr. Gwynne," said Mrs. Johnson. "Your mother--I should say, your stepmother-- has got your house all ready for you to move right in." Kenneth, forgetting himself in his agitation, interrupted her with the startling question: "Where does Rachel Carter "Rachel who?" He collected his wits, stftmmerftig: "I believe that was her name before she-^before she married rfty father." "Oh, I see. Her name is Rachel, of course.' Well, her house Is up Columbia street--that's the one on the other side of the square--almost to the hill where Isaac-Edwards has. his brickyard, Just this side of the swamp." After dinner he repaired to the office of Recorder Bugher. "Everything's In good shape." announced Bugher. "There ain't a claim against the property, now that Mrs. Gwyn has given up her idea of contesting the will. The property Is in your name now, Mr. Gwynne--and. that reminds me that your father, in his will, spells your name with a double n and an e, while he spells hers with only one n. lie took Into consideration the fact that you spelled your name In the new-fangled way, as you say he used to spell it In Kentucky. And that also accounts for his signing the will 'Robert Gwyn, formerly known as Robert Gwynne.' "Another queer thing "about It is that he bequeathed certain property to you as 'my son, Kenneth Gwynne,' while he fails to mention his daughter Viola at all, except to say that he bequeaths soand- so to 'Rachel Gwyn, to give, bequeath and devise as she sees fit.' Judge Wylie says Viola can contest the will if she so desires, on the ground that she Is entitled to as much as you, Mr. Gwynne. But she has decided to let It stand, as It is, and I guess she's sensible." • "1 did not know till this morning, Mr. Bugher, that I had a half-sister." "Well," began the recorder, pursing his lips, "for that matter she didn't know she had a half-brother till the will was read, so she was almost as Ignorant as you. When did your mother die, lfHIt's a fair question?" "In the year 1812. My father was away when she died." "Off to the war, I suppose:" "Yes," said the young man steadily. "Off to the war," he lied, still staring out of the window. "I was left with tny grandparents when he went off to make his fortune In this new country. It was not until I was fairly well grown'that we heard that he was married to a woman named Rachel Carter. Later the young man called at the office of Mr. Cornell, the lawyer who had charge of his affairs. He had come to Lafayette prepared to denounce Rachel Carter, to drive her In shame and disgrace from the town, if necessary. Now he was faced by a most unexpected and staggering situation. To denounce Rachel Carter would be to deliberately strike a cruel, devastat ing blow nt the happiness and peace of an Innocent person--Viola Gwyn, his own half-sister. A word from him and that lovely girl, serene In her beliefs, would be crushed for life. The whole scheme of life had been changed for him In the twinkling of an eye, as it were. He could not wreak vengeance upon Rachel Carter without destroying Viola Gwyn--and the nj^re thought of to withhold ffcpeh that be bad meant to divulge, altiook occasion to inquire into the present attitude of Rache! Carter, or Gwyn, as he reluctantly spoke of her, toward him, an open and admitted antagonist. "Well," said Cornell, shaking his head, "I don't believe you will catch her asking any favors of yon. She has laid down her arms, so to speak, .but that doesn't mean she intends to be friendly. She considers herself cheated, and that's all there Is to It. I doubt very much whether she will even speak to you, Mr. Gwynne. She Is a strange woman, and a hard cne to understand. She fought desperately against your coming here at all. One of her propositions was that she should be allowed to buy your share of the estate, If such a transaction could be arranged, you will remember. You declined to consider it As regards her present attitude, I think shell let you alone if yon let her alone." "My sister has asked me to come up to the house to see her this iffternoon," said Kenneth. The lawyer looked surprised. "Is that so? Well," with a puzzled frown, *1 don't quite understand how she came to do that. I was under the impression that she felt about as bitterly toward you as her mother does. In fact, she has said some rather nasty things about you. I think you will be quite safe In going up there today, so far as Mrs. Gwyn is concerned. She will not appear on the scene, I am confident. You will not come In contact with her. You say that she has pat some of her furniture at your disposal, but she doubtless did so on the advice of her lawyer. You must not forget that your father, In his will, left half of his personal effects to you. She Is Just smart enough to select In advance the part that she Is willing for yon to have, feeling that yon will not be captious about it." "I have no desire to exact anything of--" "Quite so, quite so," broke In the lawyer. "But she could not be expected to know that. I suspect she Is considerably worried about Viola. Your half-sister Is being rather assiduously courted by a young man named Lapelle. Mrs. Gwyn does not approve of him. She la strait-laced and--er--puritanical." "Puritanical, eh?" said Kenneth, with a short laugh that Mr. Cornell totally misinterpreted. "Barry isn't exactly what you woold call sanctimonious," admitted the lawyer, with a dry smile. "The worst of it is, I'm afraid Viola is la love with him." His client was silent for"a moment, reflecting. Then he arose abruptly and announced: "I agree with you, Mr. Cornell. I will go up to see her this afternoon. I bear her no grudge--and after all, she is my sister. Good-day, sir. 1 shall give myself the pleasure of calling In ^ JQU tomorrow." The door waa opened by • young colored woman. "Is Miss Viola at home?" he inquired. _ . Tj "is dis Mlctah Chvyime, cihf* ^ "Yes." • ~ i- '4r;' "Right In heah, suh," said the girt, throwing open a door at his left Logs were smoldering in the deep, wide fireplace at the far end of the room, giving out little spurts of flame occasionally from their charred, ashgray skeletons. The floor was covered with a bright, new rag carpet, and there was a horsehair sofa In the corner, an<l two or three stiff, roundbacked little chairs, the seats also covered with black horsehair. These features of the room he took In while he stood beside the center table, awaiting the entrance of Viola Gwyn. He heard a door open softly and close upstairs, and then some one descending the steps; a few words spoken in the subdued voice of a woman and the less gentle responds of the darky servant, who mumbled "Yas'm," and an Instant later went out by the front door. He smiled. The clever Viola getting rid of the servant bo that she could be alone with him, he thought, as he turned toward the door. A tall woman in black appeared In the doorway, paused there for a second or two, and then advanced slowly Into the room. He felt the blood rnah Rejuvenated Prominent retired merchant, says he fads like new man sine* Tanlac relieved him of his troubles. Can now outwalk nea 20 years youger. - i v * ^ '-•4* • ' % "fW'-s - * * ' ; i; •• f '• J- ' R. E. Boyd, 5000 Fourteenth Sfci.., N. W., Washington, D. C., for fortj^- elght years prominent hardware meat^' chant in the national capital, but no>|f retired, lends his name tp further thk cause of Tanlac. M" : "Indigestion and stomach weakneli of a very pronounced type had troubles# * me for several months prior to laat. October fifteenth," said Mr. Boyd, recently, "but since that date the Tanlac treatment has made a new man of me. Now I eat heartily, never have a sign of indigestion, sleep like a log, and get up mornings feeling like an athlete. Today I can outwalk men twenty years younger. Tanlac alone put me in my present fine physical condition, es* abllqg me to get more real pleasure than ever before out of meeting and mingling with friends. Tafilac has rejuvenated me completely, so to Bpeak. It's the finest medielne I ever ran across." Tanlac is sale by all gr.r.,1 gists. Accept no substitute. Over 46 million bottles sold. Take Tanlac Vegetable Pnifc CHAPTEA VS ^ Rachel Carter. .. Kenneth strolled about the town for awhile before returning to the tavern to shave, change his boots and "shiarten" himself up a bit In preparation for the ceremonious call he. had dreaded "to make. Shortly after three o'clock he set forth upon his adventure. Assailed by a strange and anaccustomed timidity-- he would have called It bashfulness had Viola beeil other than his sister-- he approached the young lady's home by the longest and most roundabout way. He proceeded first to the house that was to be his home. It was a good stone's throw from the pretentious twostory frame structure in which Rachel Carter and her daughter lived, but nearer the center of the town when approached by a more direct route than he had followed. This smaller house, -an Insignificant, weatherbeaten story and a half frame, snuggling among the underbrush, was where his father had lived when he first came to Lafayette. He strode up the narrow path to the low front door. Finding It unlocked, he opened It and stepped Into the low, roughly-plastered sitting room. The window blinds were open, permitting light and air to enter. The bedroom and the kitchen were In order. There were rag carpets on the floors, and the place was Immaculately clean. As he walked up the path to the front door of the new house, he was wondering how Viola Gwyn would look In her garb of black--the hated black she had cast aside for one night only He was oppressed by a dull, cold fear, assuaged to some extent by the thrill of excitement which attended the ad venture. What was he to do or say If the door was opened by Rachel Carter? After a moment's hesitation, he rapped firmly on, the door with his bare knuckles. "Is DIs Miatah Gwynne, Suhf* to his head, almost blinding him. Hia hand went out for the support of the table, his body stiffened and suddenly turned cold. The smile with which he Intended to' greet Viola froze on hie lips. "God Al--* started to ooze from his stiff lips, but the words broke off Sharply as the woman stopped tt few steps away and regarded him steadily, silently, unsmilingly. He stood there like a statue staring Into the dark, brilliant eyes, sunken deep under the straight black eyebrows. Even in the uncertain light from the curtained windows he could see that her face was absolutely colorless--the pallor of death seemed to have been laid upon It. Swiftly 'she laid a hand to her throat, her eye's closed for a second and then flew wide open again, now filled with an expression of utter bewilderment. "Is It--Is it you, Robert? Is It really you, or am I--" she murmured, scarcely above a whisper. Once more she clo9ed her eyes, tightly; as If to shut out the vision of a ghost--an unreal thing that would 'not be there when she looked again. There's not a drop ef Gwyn blood in her body." SPOHN/S DISTEMPER W/ ^ COMPOUND Horses and Mules can be kept on their feet and Working if owners give "SPOHN'S" for Z Fever, and escaping these diseases. Occasional doses work wonders. Give "SPOHN'S" for Dog Distemper. Used for thirty years. 60 cents and $mo at drug stores. Aft Even Break Townley--Do you often huve t© to catch your morning train? Snbbubs--Oh. It's about an even break. Sometimes I am standing at the station when the train comes puffing in and other times It Is standing at the station when I come puffing in.--ffeata Fe Magazine. A 8tandard External Remedy of known value--safe and effective!. It's "Allcock's"--the original and genuine poreas plaster.--Adv. She*ll Learn Phyllis--Your husband Js simply wild about yon. Isn't he? Lois--Yes, he raves about me In his sleep, buc the poor absent-minded boy nearly always calls trie by tbe wrong name.--New York Sun and Globe. - (TO BE CONTINUBp.) r Olive Growing. **" The region In which the olive may be successfully grown for commercial production o( fruit In the United States is not so great as for moat frost-hardy fruits. Commercial olive growing 4has been confined to portions of California and Arizona, although the trees will live and bear some fruit in portions of all of the southern states of this country. Why Pawnbrokers Are "Unclee." The original pawnbrokers were thf bankers, and the epithet *!uncleM l« said to be from the Latin uncus, a hook on which the brokers hung their pledges. What A monotonous old world this would be were It net for the-4elofcibns therein! •• ANIMALS ARE GOOD LINGUISTS Horeee and Dogs Learn and Remember Meaning of Words in More Than One Tongue. Can horses and dogs pick np a foreign language and etlll remember that of the land of their birth? This subject was broached by one of the speakers at the World Service exposition in Liverpool and It was declared that a British horse can recognize Its own language abroad. The experts who have been coilsulted agree that this Is so. They emphasize the fact, however, that It Is primarily the Inflection of the voice in which they live; they do not deign to comprehend the human tongue, aad a cat that does is exceptional.--Philadelphia Inquirer. # V.. •- " Trinidad's Pitch Lake.^; ^ In tite thirteen-odd million squarv miles of territory which comprise the British empire there are many remark* able phenomena, one of the most Interesting being the pitch lake of Trinidad, in the West Indies. II Is a natural reservoir of valuable mineral pitch, 10% acres In extent, from which 200.000 tons of asphalt are exported annually) Step the Pel*. The hurt of a burn or a cut stbtte MB Cole's Carbolisalve Is applied. It heats quickly without scara. 30c and 90c by all druggists, or send 30c to The J. W. Cole Co., Rockford, I1L--Advertisement, To 'Study the Boll Weevil# To study the life history and W havior of the cotton boll weevil,1 a laboratory h£S been established by the United States Department of ture at Florence, S. C. - " All some people care for sport to the companv. they can find In It. • Sure Relief FOR INDIGESTION mWGESTjOW Bell-ans Hot water Sure Relief ELL-ANS 25$ AND 75i PACKAGES EVERYWHERE About half way across Kenya colony^ that the animal learns to understand | jn British East Africa, Is Magadl lake, that caused him to turn cold with repugnance. How could he publish Rachel Carter's Infamy to the world with that Innocent girl standing beside her to receive and sustain the worst of the shock? Impossible 1 Viola must be spared--and so with her, Rachel Carter I In the course of his Interview with tbe lawyer, frees whom he had decided when sent to a foreign country. It pays much closer and quicker attention to the tone than to the sound of the words. Dogs, like horses, remember the sound of the language of their maeters, and even after many years In a foreign land can remember the meaning of sentences. A clear proof of some dogs' cleverness Is to be found In the way they pick up several native tongues and dialects when they leave their British masters In India and Africa, In places where several languages are spoken. Cats, on the contrary, seem Incapable of picking up more than their namea ^ tho laagasgo ot tha enmlnr a vast natural deposit of soda. The lake is ten miles long, two or three miles In . width, and seen from the mountains that surround it, it has the appearance of an Immense raffled white sheet. No Wool on Wild Sheep. Wild sheep are not clad in wool like the domestic animals of that namei but have their coats resembling thoee of tbe deer family, says Nature Maga^ sine. Those who are unfamiliar with the appearance of the wild species arf very apt to mistake the ewes for goats. The skin of the "Big Horn" Is this and porous and does pot make geef AB0SCHEFS SYRUP Alia;* nrritstion, soothes aad bests threat and leag inflammation. The constant Irritatioe of a cough kecps the delicate maces membrane of the threat and loags iaa congested coeditieo.which BOSCHEE'S SYRUP gently and quickly heals. For this reason it has beee s favorite household remedy fur colds coughs, bronchitis aed especially for lung troubles in mill ions of homes all over the world for the last fiftyseven years, enabling the patient to obtsin a good sight's rest, free from eoagtung with easy expectoration in the morning. Yon can buy Boschkev SYFCVT wherever medicines sre sold. DO YOU SUFFER FROM OH**™* . dreda. itawatkirc vow adov nllm trrk*«or. Vm mBrinlliilMMftr. A wvndm- ful r«H«f <•* i--nr*1"- coufbisc. Vara. faumlM. »»" a mm, HnrT«k 12--1924. It.wm .. m