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

BSlPfSS ̂ swpcsp, .. K.4 'a.- .w> •T-f-- 'W-V '..I" f'.'H WF-' *••' ' #^: 7^ ^ , ; ^CHA§m.K«»Sl» ©0pyr?iQiit""'i!«r« sv TwecwrPW CO eorrnMHT mo »(rrt«»uceei> co / J K She Clasped Her Young Arms About His eck. 14 SYNOP8IS. Philip Csyley, accused ef * ertm« of which he Is not guilty, resign* from th® army In disgrace and his affection for tile friend, Lieut. Perry Hunter, turns to hatred. Cayley seeks solitude, where he |>erfects a flying machine. While soaring over the Arctic regions, he picks up a curiously shaped stick he had seen In the iissassln « hand. Mounting again, he dis­ covers a yacht anchored In the bay. De­ scending near the steamer, he meets a «1H on an Ice floe. He learns that the girl's name la Jeanne Fielding and that the yacht has come north to seek signs ©f her father, Captain Fielding, an arctic explorer. A party from the yacht Is ma­ king ssearch ashore. After Cayley departs Jeanne finds that he had dropped a cu- rlously-shai/ed stick. Captain Planck and the surviving crew of his wrecked whaler Are In hiding on the coast. A giant raf- wan named Roscoe, had murdere d Fielding and his two companions, after the ex­ plorer had revealed the location of an enormous ledge of pur* gold. Rosooe then took mmmand of the party. It develops that tne ruffian had committed the raur- f»r witnessed by Cayley. Roscoe plans to capture the yacht and escape with a «!g load of gold. Jeanne tells Fanshaw, owner of the yacht, about the visit of the tky-man and shows him the stick left b> ^ayley. Fanshaw declares that It Is an Eskimo throwing stick, used to shoot darts. Tom Fanshaw returns from the searching party with a sprained ankle. Perry Hunter Is found murdered and C.-jivley Is accused of the crime but Jeanne believes hirr Innocent. A relief party goes to find the searchers. Tom professes his love for Jeanne. She rows ashore and enters an abandoned hut, and there finds fcer father's diary, which discloses the ex­ plorer's suspicion of Roscoe. The ruf­ fian returns to the hut and sees Jeanne. He Is Intent on murder, when the sky­ man swoops down and the ruffian flees. Jeanne gives Cayley her father's diary to read; The yacht disappears and Ros- CGo'r, plans to capture it are revealed. Jeanne's only hope Is In Cayley. The •eriousness of their situation byomes ap­ parent to Jeanne and the sky-man. Cay­ ley kills a polar bear. Next he finds a clue to the hiding place of the stores. Roscoe Is about to attack the girl when he Is sent fleeing In terror by the sight of the sky-man swooping down. Measures •re taken to fortify the nut. Cayley kills a wounded polar bear and receives the flrst intimation that Roscoe possesses firearms. A fissure in the Ice yields up Hunter's body and Roscoe. flndinsr it, re­ moves the dead man's rifle. H® discovers that Cayley is a human being and not a eplrlt. The (ruffian is baffled in his plan to murder Cayley when the latter and Jeanne take refuge in the cave where a furious storm keeps them imprisoned. CHAPTER XX.--Continued. He made his dive as shallow as pos­ sible, and In the sheer exuberance of delight at being once mpre a-wing, he beat his way aloft again by main strength, towering like a falcon. All bis old power was here unimpaired, yet every sensation it brought him was heightened and make thrilling by long disuse. By means of those great, obedient wings of his he played upon the capricious, vagrant air with the superb Insolence of mastery. Every trick of flight was at his command, the flashing dire of the piratical frig- gate bird, the corkscrew spiral of the tern, the plummet-like pounce of the hawk, and, at last, the majestic, soar­ ing drift of the king of them all, the albatross. So he hung there in midsky, and the world, white, frozen, immaculate- looked far away. The old, god-like serenity, untroubled, untrammeled, un­ afraid, came back to him. The soul opened its gates, up there, lost Its boundaries, and all the spirit of the sky came In, immense, cold, clear as the all-pervading ether. This was Nirvana, though the old Buddhist adepts who had philosophized about it had never conquered the sky, had never bathed In it as Cayley on his wings was bathing now. The declining moon sank lower, till the refracting ice crystals that filled the air caught its light slantwise and danced with it so that It flickered like a will-o'-the-wisp. The sky deepened from its bright steel-blue to purple. The silver light upon the snow faded, through lavender and lilac, to a pur­ ple of its own, only less deep than that of the sky itself. But the stars burned brighter and brighter, until it almost seemed they sang: "Harping In loud and solemn choir With unexoresslve notes. ..." The words projected themselves quite unsought into his mind. He spent a moment or two, wondering where they came from, and then It came to him. It was » part of t~o lines from the "Hymn on the Nar tlvity." Somehow, the thought of Christmas gave his soul a wrench that brought It back into the world again. They had lost their reckoning of time, and, for anything he knew, this might be Christmas day. Perhaps those stars were caroling their Christmas chimes. Perhaps, down in the world of men, the windows were hung with holly aM doorways with mistletoe. Before his thoughts had advanced as far as that he was flying down to­ ward the cliff-head. He could only guess at the length of time that had elapsed since he left Jeanne, on her heap of skins, there in the mouth of the snow tunnel. It must have been an hour or mors, for the moon had been shining when he started, wnd now almost the last of its twilight had died on the horizon. A sharp sense of his own delin­ quency in having left her to her own resources for so long, when she had so few resources to draw upon. In­ creased to a sudden alarm for her safety, when he made out the black mouth of the tunnel and saw that there was no light at the farther end of it Sh# couldn't have been waiting all this time, out in the cold; and yet m his eyea, m he hovered, sec King the exact spot to alight, certainly made out a dark object lying there upon the snow. His heart felt like lead as he dropped close beside it, and scram­ bled clear of his wings. It was Jeanne; and for a moment he thought she was dead. She seemed as white and cold as the snow itself. And yet she was not dead; not even frozen. The hands he chafed so frantically were inert, but not rigid; and, as he drew her up in his arms and pressed his head down against her breast, he could hear,very faintly and slowly, the beating of her heart. He picked her up in his arms and carried her into the pilot house. The air here was still warmer than that out of doors, but It was no longer ex­ hausted and poisonous. He laid her down for long enough to light the lamp, to throw off his stiff leather jacket and to get a little brandy out of the keg. This he mixed with a little water and, with the aid of a small Ivory spoon, he succeeded in getting a little of it between her 11P8. He took off her heavy seal coat and the woolen jacket she wore under it, and, as well as he could, loosened the other clothing about her waist Last of all, he gathered her up in his arms again, wrapped the great theep-skin bag about them both and, with the brandy and water within arm's reach, settled down to attempt to get some of the warmth and vitality of his own body into hers. She was not fully unconscious now, for the next time he offered her brandy she swallowed it. Her eyelids were fluttering a little, too, and pres­ ently she sighed. He was thrilling all over with a tremendous sense of power. He felt he could have brought her back from the very dead. His arteries seemed to be running with electricity, not blood. Her lips were moving now, and he bent close to catch the whisper that barely succeeded in passing them. "Don't--bring me back--Philip. It's --so much--easier to go--this way." His only reply to that was to hold her a little closer. She did not resist when he held the drink to her lips again; but, after she had taken two or three sips of it, she said: "I sha'n't need any more. I'm get­ ting quite beautifully warm again." He knew it was true. She no longer felt lifeless In his arms, though she still lay there quite relaxed. He knew he could let ber go now, safely enough. And yet he held her fast. "I thought you were dead when I saw you lying there on the snow," he said at last, not very steadily. "If you had been, it would have been xny own doing." She contradicted him with a sharp negative gesture. "You left me well enough wrapped up to have resisted the cold for any length of time. Besides, if I'd wanted to I could have come back in here. But--but, Philip-- Oh, It seems a dreadful thing to confess, now you are here with me--I didn't want to. I just lay down on the snow, thinking I could go to sleep and--and that would be the end--such an easy end!" She felt him shudder all over as she said it, and she clasped bis shoul­ ders and held them tight, in a desire to reassure and comfort him. "Did you mean to do that . . . Was that why you asked me to fly away for a while V "No! No! It was something I eaw while you were gone, something that terrified me. Philip, do you remem­ ber how many of the people of the Phoenix died of what father called the ice madness?" He nodded gravely. "Weil, what I saw made me think that 1 was going that way, too. Philip, I was watching the moon go down, and gradually it spread out into three, quite far apart, aud then they changed into strange colors, and stranger shapes, and began to dance like witches." He laughed, but the laugh had some­ thing very like a sob mixed up in it "You poor child! No wonder it frightened you. But that's the ortho­ dox way for the moon to set in the arctic. It's part of the same refrac­ tion that plays such strange tricks with the daylight colors. No. you're a long way from ice madness, Jean­ ne." "But that wasn't all I saw, Philip. It wasn't the worst. I saw a ship against the moon, only It seemed too high above the horizon, somehow. That's tjie crowning impossibility. And then the moons began to dance, that wicked, wltch-llke dance of mockery. So I lay down in the snow and Lid my face in my arms to . . . tp go to sleep. It seemed so easy and, some­ how, seemed right, too; not wicked any way." She felt him shuddering again, and his clasping arms strained her so close they almost hurt. "Thank God, I came in time!" she heard him whisper. "But you did come In time," she re­ minded him, for she could still feel him shuddering with the horror of the thing. "You brought me back, and I'm not even afraid any more." She paused, and there was a little silence. Then tfhe added: "And I'm quite warm now." His arms slackened for a moment, and then once more they clasped her close. "I--I--don't want to let you go," he said, and his voice had a note In It which she had never beard before. "Jeanne--Jeanne, dear, can you for­ give me--forgive me that it's true? For give me for telling you? I have the whole world In my arms when I hold you like this. And life and death and promises, and past deeds, and right and wrong, are all swallowed up, just in the love of you. God forgive me, Jeanne; lti true!" Then he unclasped his arms. "Can't vou forgive, too?" She caught her breath la a gTeat sob. Turning a little, she clashed her own young arms around his neck and held him tight. It was a long time after that be­ fore either of them spoke. Finally, Jeannn asked a question. "But, why--" her voice broke in an unsteady little laugh, "but why do you ask to be forgiven? You told me the Tery first day, the day we found the yacht had gone, that you--loved me. That's why I allowed you to stay.** "Yea, but there's an infinity of ways of loving, Jeanne, dear. I had a right to love the soul of you, for that was what had given me my own soul back and my power of loving. But we pet out to live through this winter in the hope of a rescue, the hope that when another day oame it would bring a ship to take yon back into your own real world. I couldn't go back with you. you know, I a man with a stain upon him. Since that was so, I hadn't any right to love you this--other way. I wonder If you understand, even now. I love all of you; from the crown of glory you wear, down to the print yo'jr boot has left in the snow. I love your lashes, your wistful lips. The touch of anything that is warm with your hands can thrill me. And as for the hands themselves--oh, I can't make you understand." "Yes," sbe said very softly, *1 un­ derstand, now." "And yet," he began after awhile, 1 haven't any right, when I must give you u|> some day . . She laid her fingers on his Hps. "Well not talk of rights," she said. "Not now, not tonight But there's something more to say. Philip, It wasn't the sight of the ship there against the moon that made me think I wanted it all to end. That was the excuse I made to myself, but It was only an excuse. The real despair came when I saw you flying, saw how gloriously free you were up there, and thought it wasn't love that kept you here beside me, but only pity-- .Well, a sort of love, perhaps, but not what 1 wanted, not what I felt for you. I'd seen you draw away when I touched you." She heard a sound in his throat that might have been a sob, though it seemed meant for a laugh, and she felt his arms tighten about her with a sudden passion that almost hurt. So she said no more, just kissed him and lay still. It was a good while after that that she made a move to release herself. "Let me go now," she said, "and I'll get you some supper, or breakfast, or whatever we decide to call it--only you'll have to go down into the Ice cave to get some more supplies. We've nothing much left up here." She dropped down on a heap of bear-skins before the open door, and sat gazing out at the black velvety patch of sky which capped the snow tunnel. Even when she heard Cayley coming back up the ice chimney she did not immediately turn to look at him. It was, in a way, a sort of lux­ ury not to; to think that ff she waited she would presently hear his step come nearer and feel his hands upon her shoulders. CHAPTER XXI. A Sortie. But that did not happen, and a sudden Instinct that something must have gone wrong reached her, with al­ most the force of a spoken word. "What is It? What's happened, Philip?" she asked, as she turned. He did not answer at once. He was bending over the hole formed by the top of the ice chimney and rather de­ liberately replacing the wooden cover upon It When he did straighten up at last, and she aaw his face, ahe knew her instinct had not lied to her. "It's rather a queer thing for us to have forgotten," he said, "after all these weeks when we lived In terror of him, and after the last thing he did to us. But we had forgotten him-- Roscoe, you know--and now he has •toleu • march on us. She looked at him In a sort at won­ der. "It Is true," she said, "we had for­ gotten. Those days when we lived In the hut seemed almost as far away from us up here as the rest of the world seemed then. . . ." She made a little pause there, then roused her­ self. "What Is It that he has done, Philip?" "He has found our stores down be­ low here. He has taken everything --made a perfectly clean sweep." There was a little silence after that Before she spoke again she came over to him and kissed him. There was a grave sort of smile on her face when she said: "Well, is there anything we must do?" "Oh, yea," he said. "That move of bis doese't end the game. It only be­ gins a new one. Really, I think, the odds are more In our favor this time than they were before, only this time we shall have to move quickly. I would have followed him up at once, without coming back here, only I didn't have--" He stopped rather short. "Of course." sbe said, "you hadn't the revolver." "That wasn't what I wanted; 1 wanted my wings. Now ^'ve got back to them I must start at once." She uttered a little cry of protest at that "Can't you--can't you wait a little-- a few hours? Life has only just be­ gun for me--for us--with what you told me Just now." He let a moment go by in thought­ ful silence, before he answered. "No," he said, at last. "It's got to be settled now, before another moon- rise. The light Is all In his favor, the darkness in mine. If I can find him now. I think I can kill him Now I think it over, it seems to me likely he doesn't suspect we are alive at / i m: vf# Stealthily Made Hla Way Toward the Cave. all. The Walrus people never dis­ covered the fee chimney nor the pilot house. That's perfectly clear. If they had they would have rifled it long ago. "When I--finish, I'll come back to you. I don't think I shall be gone very long. You aren't to be afraid for me, and you can trust me to be care­ ful. I know 1 have your life iu my hands as well as my own. Your part is harder than mine; I quite under­ stand that You must be keeping watch every second. If he eludes me and comes here, you must shoot him, without word or warning. Shoot to kill." "But I sha'n't have the revolver!" There was an electric moment of silence between them, while she gazed into his face, horrified at the meaning she read there. "You didn't mean that! Philip, Philip--you cant mean t^at. And leave you to face that mohster un­ armed." "I shall have the only weapon that will be of any service to me, my knife. It's got to be done at close quarters. I couldn't possibly shoot him from the air. But If I can alight near him and come up within striking distance he will have no chance with me, not with all his strength." "No," she said, resolutely, *7 wont let you go. Not that way." "Listen, Jeanne. If I can find him, I can kill him. Do you know what the movements of ordinary men, even un­ usually quick men, look like to me? Like the motions of marionettes. The only chance Roscoe has against me Is of picking me off at long range with his rifle. He could do that whether I had a revolver or not. And if he did, if he killed me and I had the revolver, then--well, then he would' come here and find you--defenseless. Don't you see? i couldn't take the revolver. I should be unnerved with terror from the moment I left you." With a sob she clasped ber arms about his neck and held him tight. Then, in tragic submission, they dropped away. Without saying anything more. Cay­ ley fciew out the candle, opened the doer into the tunael and took up his furled wings. With trembling hands she helped him spread them and draw them taut. As he adjusted the straps across his shoulders, he felt her hands again, upon his head, felt them clasp behind his neck. "Goodby," she said. He was trembling all over, as her hands were, but it was not with fear. "I shall come back safe," be said. "Nothing can barm me tonight." He pulled her up close In his en­ folding arms and kissed bm mouth. In an Instant he turned and diyfd off' the cliff-head into the night He headed up into the wind, and hung for a moment soaring upon a fairly steady current of air that poured along parallel to the cliff. When he reached the glacier be checked his speed a little and slanted down to an altitude of not more than two or three hundred fr>et above the crest He hardly expected a glimpse of Roscoe so soon, having no reason to think he would be here, but he began scanning the earth's sur­ face closely with the idea of accustom­ ing his eyes to the light and the dis­ tance. Yet it was not his eyes, but his sensitive nostrils which gave him his first hint of the probable where­ about of the man he was looking for. The frozen air which he had been drawing deep into his lungs was odor­ less. save for the faintly acrid sugges­ tion of ozone about it--a thing, by the way, which he was puzzled to account for, unless It presaged some tltanie electrical display In the sky. But the odor which^ow Invaded his fastidious nostrils automatically checked his flight. He tilted back his planes and his momentum sent him towering almost vertically aloft. He did not analyze it--not that first in­ stant, but his sensation was the same one that makes a dog suddenly throw ap its head and snarl, bristling. It a moment he knew that it smoke, the smoke of no clean, spar- kling wood fire, but of smouldering bones and the flesh of some animal. Slowly he began to descend in the sweeping circles of a great spiral, con­ stantly searching with an eagerness, which amounted almost to an agony, for the point of angry red which would tell him where his enemy was to be found. He had no doubt at all that his enemy was there. The man who had laid that flre was "likely to be sleeping beside it He was within 20 feet of th4 level of the Ice before his little mirror of concave sliver caught the gleam of nsd that he was looking for. He threw his head back sharply and gazed at It. He could not see the fire Itself--that must be hidden behind the, great rock which almost blocked the entrance to what must be the cave. The gleam he had caught in his mirror had been reflected In turn from the gleaming surface of a mass of ice a little farther out He slanted away again, searching now for a level place to alight, found it within 100 yards of the cave-mom h, circled once completely round, to make sure that he could not be sur­ prised in the act of getting clear ot bis wings, and a moment later came down soundlessly, except with a faint slither of his planes, upon the ice. He bounded almost Instantly to his feet, slipped his knife out of his belt and held the heft of It between his teeth while he furled his planes. That done, he deposited the bundle In the angle of a projecting rock, and stealth­ ily made his way toward the cave- mouth. At the very edge of the shelter afr forded by ttiie rock he paused for an Instant; then, with every nerve tuned to the highest pitch--with every mus­ cle In a state of supple relaxation, yet Instantly ready for any demand that might be made upon It--he stepped round the corner and into the mouth of the cave. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Distilled waters run deep. ( Was Cured by Lydia E. ham's Vegetable Compound "Waurika, Okla,--"I had female tron- bles for seven jean, was all rundown. .•.ml and to nervout I COD I d n o t d o a n y ­ thing. The doctors treated me for difi. lereat things bat did me no good. I got bo bad that I could not sleep day or night. While in this conditio-; I read of Lydia E. pint, h a m ' s V e g e t a b l e C o mpound. and 1 ^ w_ began its nee and wrote to Mrs. Pinkham for advice. In Stevens, _ J, Box 81, Waurika, Okla. Another Grateful Woman. Huntington, Mass.--" I was in a To us, run down condition and for thros years could find no help. "I owe my present good health to Lydia E. Pinkham's vegetable Com- Eound and Blood Purifier which I b*. eve saved my life. "My doctor knows what helped an and does not say one word against ft? -- Mrs. Mari janette Bates, 134, Huntington, Mass. Because your case is a difficult on«v doctors havine done you no good, do not continue to suffer without giving1 Lydia E. Pinkham's Vegetable Com* pound a trial. It surely has cured many cases of female ills, such as in. flammation, ulceration, displacements fibroid tumors, irregularities, period!® pains, backache, that bearing-down reeling, and nervous prostration. The Wretchedness of Constipation Can quscblv be overcom • %•. CARTER'S LITTLE LIVER FILLS. ClKfEfS VITTLE • Purely vegetable --act surely and gently on the i;ver rSjri . Biliousness, Head­ ache, Dizzi­ ness, and Indigestion. They do their rtntJL SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. Genuine must bear Signature NDELARN HIGHEST SALARIES Brsek Layistir, iHcturc OMrrthgi by idea pay S5. aOtoi? America, low tost, taw practical work.Theae trades Largest Trade School in mouths to leara. Ws secure positions for gredk uates. Write (or free Illustrated book oe «cboal» r 1 <M i 1 i" ' t * \t* :re*t»n<*nt «f Chronic IJleeni,; it' ieenkT artaote Ctcers.X| (talent Clper»,Mercurial I'lo®**, £ugr. Milk Leg, F«ver Soi aucofiMfui. »lr mihil SO HSDIC1NBfi, I»«ipi. Hl« Future Expenditures. Among the most frequent requests that go to the United States senate are those asking some prominoat member to give money to charity or­ ganizations, hospitals and other phi­ lanthropic undertakings. One day a charity worker asked Senator Flint of California, who is not a wealthy man, to give a large Bum of money for a free ward in one of the hos­ pitals "I am sorry that I cannot comply with your request," said the senator gravely; "but judging from the num­ ber of similar demands that have hem made upon me In the past, I have de­ cided that I can promote a greater charity. The vast amount of money spent on hospitals In this town con­ vinces me that thousands of people are going to die and be buried with­ out Sowers. Hereafter, I shall devot* my spare money exclusively to seat­ ing flowers to the dead."--The Sink- day Magazine. Up-to-Date. Uncle Mose, a plantation negrfe was being asked about his religion* affllatlons. "I's a preacher. Bah," he said. "Do you mean," asked the aston­ ished questioner, "that you preach the Gospel?" Mose felt himself getting into deep water. "No, sah," he said. "Ah touchea that subject very light"--Succeas Magazine. A feeling of superiority Is about all the satisfaction some people get oat of being good. I HAYTIAN CUTLERY SALUTE •teward of Naval Vessel Put Knives and Forks in Gun and Hotel Was Punctured. Discipline aboard men-of-war belong­ ing to tropical countries is not as strict as that obtaining on the vessels of colder countries. Indeed, in some Instances, It Is very lax. The Defense, a Haytlan naval vee- eal. was lying In the harbor of Port- au-Prince. One day a mess cook, for some reason, cleaned about a peck of knives and forks on the gun deck, and, being suddenly called away, and not wishing to spend ,; j!ine to go to the galley, he seized the messpot full of knives and forks and stuck it In the muzzle-of the ten-inch gun, putting the tampion In after it. About an hour afterward the admlrai came aboard, and, aa the g\m waa loaded with blank cartridge, they used It to flre a salute. It happened that the gun was aimed toward the town, and almost point blank at the Grand Hotel. The guests assembled on the porch to witness the ceremonies, when they were saluted with a raJn of knives and forks, which stuck against the wooden walls like quills on a porcupine. Fortunately no one was hurt, although there were many narrow escapes. The acid teat for friendship la mis­ fortune. Many British Titles Refused. A long list might be compiled of men who refused titles. Gladstone of course is th<s beat known instance, but there are many others. Carlyle re­ fused the fcrand cross of the Bath. In 1857 Palmerston wanted to make the marquis of Lansdowne a duke, but the Nestor of the Whigs declined the hon­ or on the ground that he was too old to change his rank. According to Hen­ ry Greville, the same plea of old age was advanced by the duke of Grafton when offered a vacant Garter in 1831. "It was an honor he had long coveted, but It would be a waste of money for a man to pay fees amounting to nearly £1,000 for a decoration which he could not live long enough to enjoy." Two distinguished historians, Grote and Hallam, refused baronetcies, and the same honor was declined by Watts, the painter, in 1885. Lord Beaconsfleld found In his time that there were those who were disap­ pointed with the mere rank of knight bachelor. But, as Sir Mountstuart Grant Duff's diary records, he had the answer for one member of his part? who ventured to complain of insuffi­ cient recognition. "I assure you," ha said, "you altogether underrate th« honor of knighthood. It satisfied Stl Walter Raleigh and Sir Isaac Newton." Relationship Defined. A school superintendent of Waalh lngton says that the brightest wrong answer ever given by a school child In that city was this: "Algebra was the wife ot SudUd aai the mother of Qeometiy.'* Try For Breakfast-- Scramble two eggs. When nearly cooKed, mix in about a half a cup of Toasties and serve at once- seasoning to taste. It's immense! ••The Memory Lingerŝ " Pottm Ccreii Coapwfi Battle Ciwfc, Mick, •fii