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swas >M4" i - ** ' f f , "K 4«\ *• ~ *s«# v ^: .* -$ , kA-»<^,» Vf-.t \MV.| -* * \ V 5,;-. ,•" y/* -FU ;- • i MltE\«T ' Pr.AIXDEAT.KR, SRftS#EV,' lit. : 'M&m mm I* ? V, (ft. * rf- • ^§W" - -••.<:< *r. rw* >v tiy- . •< Wvwcffr.f*/* or SYNOPSIS- Tg"e Barr M°Cutcheon *3rf/v? AKCtmy/fOSr: CW*rMMZ&& &f 0ODD,Af£/l£) &s» COSfPA/fY Challis Wrandall Is found murdered In a road house near New York. Mrs. Wran­ dall is summoned from the city and iden­ tifies the body. A young woman who ac­ companied Wrandall to the Inn ffTici nuh- eequently disappeared, la suspected. Wrandall, It appears, had led a gay life and neglected his wife. Mrs. wrandall starts back for New York In an auto dur­ ing a blinding snow storm. On the way ahe meets a young woman in the road who proves to be the woman who killed Wrandall. Feeling that the girl had done her a service In ridding her of the man. Who though she loved him deeply, had caused her great sorrow. Mrs. Wrandall determines to shield her and t%kei» bar to her own home. kt•. f «V' 'fi i&Vi' £ ? : ! st&h; $ • F! 1 ^ . m.-. S-V CHAPTER III.--Continued. Half ail hour later he departed, to rejoin her at eleven o'clock, when the reporters were to be expected. He waa to do all the talking for her. While he waa there, Leslie Wrandall called her tip on the telephone. Hear­ ing but one side of the rather pro­ longed conversation, he was filled with wonder at the tactful way in which she met and parried the inevitable questions and suggestions coming from her horror-stricken brother-in- law. Without the slightest trace of offensivenees in her manner, she gave Leslie to understand that the final ob­ sequies must be conducted in the home of his parents, to whom once more her husband belonged, and that she would abide by all arrangements his famiiy elected to make. Mr. Car­ roll surmised from the trend of con­ versation that young Wrandall was about to leave for the scene of the tragedy, and that the house was In a state of unspeakable distress. The lawyer smiled rather grimly to him­ self as he turned to look out of the window. He did not have to be told that Challis was the idol of the family. and that, so far as they were con­ cerned, he could do no wrong! After his departure, Mrs. Wrandall gently opened the bedroom door and was surprised to find the girl wide­ awake, resting on one elbow, her star- leg eyes fastened, on the newspaper that topped the pile on the chair. Catching sight of Mrs. Wrandall she pointed to the paper with a trembling hand and cried out. In a voice full of horror: "Did you place them there for me to read? Who was with you In the other room just now? Was it some one about the--some one looking for me? Speak! Please tell me. I heard a man's voice--" The other crossed quickly to her side. "Dont be. alarmed. It was my law­ yer. There 1s nothing to fear--at pres­ ent. Yes, I left the papers there for you to see. You can see what a sensa­ tion it has caused. Challis Wrandall was one of the most widely known men in New York. But I suppose you know that without my telling yon." The girl sank back with a groan. "My God, what have I done? What will come of it all?" 1 wish I could answer that ques­ tion," said the other, taking the girl's hand in hers. Both were trembling. Alter an insiaqrs hesitation, she laid her other hand in the dark, dishevelled hair of the wild-eyed creature, who still continued to stare at the head­ lines. "I am quite sure they will not look for you here, or in my home." "fat your home?" "You are to go with me. I have thought it all over. It is the only way. Come, I must ask you to pull yourself together. Get up at once, and dzess. Here are the things you are to -wear." She indicated the orderly pile of gar­ ments with a wave of her hand. Slowly the girl crept out of bed, con­ fused, bewildered, stunned. "Where are my own things? 1--I •cannot accept these. Pray give me my own--" Mrs. Wrandall checked her. 1 "You must obey me, if you expect me to help you. Don't you understand W - h . ' S K J i h. I; "You Did Not K..ww He Had • Wife?" She Cried. that I have had a--a bereavement? I cannot wear these things now. They are useless to me. But we will speak of all that later on. Come, be quick; I will help you to d^ess. First, go to the telephone and ask them to send a waiter to--these rooms. We must have something to eat. Please do as I tell you." Standing before her benefactress, her fingers fumbling Impotently at the neck of the night-dress, the girl still continued to stare dumbly into the calm, dark eyes before her. £ v , "You are so good. I--I--" ' ,/ "Let me help you," interrupted the " . Other, deliberately setting about to re- g move the night-dress. The girl caught _ it up as it slipped from her shoulders, :h >a "warm flush suffusing her face, a i^bamed look springing into her eyes, j}; ' "Thank yon, I can--get on very 'r well. I only wanted to ask you a f •• que at Ion. It has been on my mind, ?. waking and sleeping. Can you tell me anything about do you know his r. • wifti?" \ . The question was so abrupt, so start­ ling that Mrs. Wrandall uttered a sharp little cry. For a moment she could not reply. "I am so sorry, so desperately sorry for u6r," auucu the girl plaintively. T know her," the other managed to say with an effort 'if I had only known that he had a wife--" began the girl bitterly, almost angrily. Mrs. Wrandall grasped her by the arm. "You did not know that he had a wife?" she cried. The girl's eyes flashed with a sud­ den, fierce fire in their depths. "God in heaven, no! I did not know it until-- Oh, I cant spe&k of it! Why should I tell you about it? Why should you be interested in hearing itr Mrs. Wrandall drew back and re­ garded the girl's set, unhappy face. There was a curious light in her eyes that escaped the other's notice--a light that would have puzzled her not a little. "But you will tell me--everything-- a little later," she said, strangely calm. "Not now, but--before many hours have passed. Flret of all, you must tell me who you are, where you live --everything except what happened in Burton's inn. I don't want to hear that at present--perhaps never. Yes, on second thoughts, I will say never! You are never to tell me just what happened up there, or just what led up to it Do you understand? Never!" The girl stared at her la amaze­ ment "But I--I must tell some one," she cried vehemently. "I have a right to defend myself--" "I am not asking you to defend your­ self," said Mrs. Wrandall shortly. Then, as if afraid to remain longer, Bhe rushed from the room. In the doorway, she turned for an Instant to say: "Do as I told you. Telephone. Dress as quickly as you can." She closed the door swiftly. Standing in the center of the room, her hands clenched until the nails cut the flesh, she said over and over again to herself: "I don't want to know! I don't want to know!" A few minutes later she was critical­ ly inspecting the young woman who came from the bedroom attired in a street dress that neither of them had ever drained before. The girl, looking fresher, prettier and even younger than when she had seen her last was in no way abashed. She seemed to have accepted the garments and the situation in the same spirit of resigna­ tion and hope; as if she had decided to make the most of her slim chance to profit by these amazing circum­ stances. They eat opposite each other at the little breakfast table. "Please pour the coffee," said Mrs. Wrandall. The waiter had left the room at her command. Hie girl's hand shook, hat she complied without a word. "Now you may tell me who you are and--but wait! You are not to say anything about what happened at the inn. Guard your words carefully. I am not asking for a confession. I do not care to know what happened there. It will make it; easier for me to protect you. You may call it conscience. Keep your big secret to yourself. Not one word to me. Do you understand V "You mean that I am not to reveal, even to you, the causes which led up to--" ^ "Nothing--absolutely nothing," said Mrs. Wrandall firmly. "But I cannot permit you to. judge me, to--well, you. might say to acquit me--without hearing the story. It is so vital to me." "I can judge you without hearing all of the1--the evidence, if that's what you mean. Simply answer the ques­ tions I shall ask, and nothing more. There are certain facts I must have from you if I am to shield you. You must tell me the truth. I take it you are an English girl. Where do you live? Who are your friends? Where is your family?" The girl's face flushed for an instant and then grew pale again. "I will tell you the truth," she said. "My name is Hetty Castleton. My fa­ ther is Col. Braid Castleton of of the British army. My mother is deads She was Kitty Glynn, at one time a popular music hall performer In Lon­ don. She was Irish. She died two years ago. My father was a gentle­ man. I do not say he is a gentleman, for his treatment of my mother re­ lieves him from that distinction. He is in the far east, China, I think. I have not Been him in more five years. He deserted my mother. That's all there is to that side of my story, I appeared in two or three of the musical pieces produced in London two seasons ago, in the chorus. I never got beyond that for yery good reasons. I was known as Hetty Glynn. Three weeks ago I started for New York, sailing from Liverpool. Previ­ ously I had served in the capacity of governess in the family of John Bud long, a brewer. They had a son, a young man of twenty. Two months ago I was dismissed. A California lady, Mrs. Holcombe, offered me a sit­ uation as governess to her two little girls soon afterward. I was to go to her home in San Francisco. She pro­ vided the money necessary for the voyage and for other expenses. She is still in Europe. I landed in New York a fortnight ago and, following her directions, presented myself at a certain bank---I have the name some­ where--where my railroad tickets were to be in readiness for me, with further instructions. They were to give me twenty-five pounds on the pre­ sentation of my letter from Mrs. Hol­ combe. They gave me the money and then handed me a cablegram from Mrs. Holcombe, notifying me that my services would not be required. There was no explanation. Just that "On the steamer I met--him. His deck chair was next to lhine. I po- *C. Wrandall' the card on the chjUr in­ formed me. I--" "You crossed on the steamer with him?" interrupted Mrs. Wrandall quickly. "Yes.* * "Had--had you seen him before? In London ?•-- "Never. Well, we became acquaint­ ed, as people do. He--he was very handsome and agreeable." She paused for a moment to collect herself "Yery handsome and agreeable," said the other slowly. "We got to be very good friends. There wero not many people on board, and apparently he knew none of then^. It was too cold to stay on deck much of the time, and it was very rough. He had one of the splendid suites on the--" "Pray om't unnecessary details. You landed and went--where?" "He advised me to go to an hotel-- I can't recall the name. It was rather an unpleasant place. Then I went to the bank, as I have stated. After that m m "I Am Challis Wrandall's Wife." I did not know what to do. I was stunned, bewildered. I called him up on the telephone and--he asked me to meet him for dinner at a queer little cafe, far down town. We--" "And you had no friends, no ac­ quaintances here?" "No. He suggested that I go into one of the musical shows, saying he thought he could arrange it with a manager who was a friend. Anything to tide me over, he said. But I would not consider it, not for a instant. I had had enough of the stage. I--I am really not fitted for it Besides, I am qualified--well qualified--to be gov­ erness--but that 1b neither here nor there. I had some money--perhaps forty pounds. I found lodgings with some people in Nineteenth street He never came there to see me. I can see plainly now why he argued it would not be--well, he used the word 'wise.' But we went occasionally to uine together. We went about in a *motor--a little red one. He--he told me he loved me. That was one night about a week ago. I--" I don't care to hear about it," cried the other. "No need of that Spare' me the silly side of the story." Silly, madam? In God's name, do you think it was eilly to me? Why-- why, I believed him! And, what is more, I believe that he did love me-- even now I believe it" "I have no doubt of it," said Mrs. Wrandall calmly. "You are very pret­ ty--and charming." "I--I did not know that he had a wife until--well, until---" She could not go on. "Night before last" - The girl shuddered. Mrs. Wrandall turned her face away and waited. There is nothing more I can tell you, unless you permit me to tell all," the girl resumed after a moment of hesitation. Mrs. Wrandall arose. "I have heaid enough. This after­ noon 1 will send my butler with you to the lodging house in Nineteenth street He will attend to the removal of your personal effects to my home, and you will return with him. It will be testing fate. Miss Castleton, this visit to your former abiding place, but I have decided to give the law Its chance. If you are suspected, a watch will be set over the house in which is quite unknown, you will run no risk in going there openly, nor will I be taking so great a chance as may ap­ pear in offering you a home, for the time being at least, as companion--or secretary or whatever we may elect to call it for the benefit of all inquirers. Are you willing to run the risk--thlei single risk?" - "Perfectly willing," announced thtf other without hesitation. Indeed, her face brightened. "If they are waiting there for me, I shall go with them without a word. I have no means of expressing my gratitude to you for--" "There is time enough for that" said Mrs. Wrandall quickly. "And if they are not there, yop will return to me? You will not desert me now?" The girl's eyes grew wide with won­ der. "Desert you? Why do you put it in that way? I dont understand." "You will come back to me?" insist­ ed the other. "Yes. Why--why, it means every­ thing to me. It means life--more than that most wonderful friend. Life isn't very sweet to me. But the joy of giving it to you for ever is the dear­ est boon t crave. I do give it to you. It belongs tQ you. I--I could die for you.'* She dropped, to her knees and pressed her lips to Sara Wrandall's hand; hot tears fell upon It Mrs. Wrandall laid her free hand on the dark, glossy hair and smiled; smiled warmly for the frst time in-- well, in years she might have brM to hereeit if she had stopped to consider. Get up, my dear," she said gently. you do come back. I may be sending you to your death, as it is, but it is the Aiance we must take. A few hours will tell the tale. Now listen to what I am about to say-->to propose. I offer you a uoiue, I oiler you friendship and I trust security from the peril that confronts' you. I aek nothing In re­ turn, not even a word of gratitude. You may tell the people at your lodg­ ings that I have engaged you as com­ panion' and that we are to sail for Eu­ rope in a week's time if possible. Now we must prepare to go. to my own home. You will see to packing flay-- that is, our trunks--" "Oh, it--it must be a dream!" cried Hetty Cast'eton, her eyes swimming. "I can't believe--" Suddenly she caught herself up, and tried to smile. "I don't see why you do this for m®. I do not deserve--" "You have done me a service," said Mrs. Wrandall, her manner so peculiar that the girl again assumed the stare of perplexity and wonder that had been paramount since th^ir meeting; as if she were on the verge of grasp­ ing a great truth. "What can you mean?" Sara laid her handB on the girl's shoulders and looked steadily into the puzzled eyes for a moment before speaking. "My girt," she said, eyer so feently, "I shall not ask what your life has been; I do not care. 1 shall not ask for references. You are alone in' the world and you need a friehd. I too am alone. If you will come to me I will do everything in my power to make you comfortable and--contented. Per­ haps it will be impossible to make you happy. I promise faithfully to help you, to shield you, to repay you for the thing you have done for me. You could not have fallen into .gentler bands than mine will prove to be. That much I swear to you on my soul, which is sacred. I bear you no ill-will. I have nothing to avenge." Hetty drew back, completely mysti­ fied. "Who are you?" she murmured, still staring. "I am Challis Wrandall's wife." W- ticed that his name was Wrandall-- 1 "1 shall not ask you to die for me--if CHAPTER IV. While the Mob Waited. The next day but one, in the huge old-fashioned mansion of the Wran- dalls in lower Fifth avenue, in the drawing-room directly beneath the chamber in which Challis was born, the impressive but grimly conventional funeral services were held. Contrasting sharply with the som­ ber, absolutely correct atmosphere of the gloomy interior was the exterior display of joyous curiosity that must have jarred severely on the high-bred sensibilities of the chief mourners, not to speak of the jnvited guests who had been obliged to pass between rows of gaping bystanders in order to reach the portals of the house of grief, and who must have reckoned with extreme distaste the cost of subsequent de­ parture. A dozen raucous-voiced po­ licemen were employed to keep back the hundreds that thronged the side­ walk and blocked the street. Curiosity was rampant Ever since the moment that the body of Challis Wrandall was carried into the house of his father, a motley, varying crowd of people shift­ ed restlessly in front of the mansion, filled with gruesome interest in the ab­ solutely unseen, animated by the sly hope that something sensational might happen if they waited long enough. Motor after motor, carriage after carriage, rolled up to the curb and emptied its sober-faced, self-conscious occupants in front of the door with the great black bow; with each arrival the crowd surged forward, and names were uttered in undertones, passing from lip to lip until every one in the street knew that Mr. So-and-So, Mrs. This-or-That, the What-Do-You-Call- Ems and others of the city's most ex­ clusive but most garishly advertised society leaders had entered the house of mourning. It was a great show for the plebeian spectators. Much better than MISB So-and-So's wedding, said one woman who had attended the aforesaid ceremony as a unit in the well-dressed mob that almost wrecked the carriages In the desire' to see the terrified bride. Better than a circus, said a man who held hiB little daugh^ ter above the headB of the crowd so that she might Bee the fine lady in a wild-beast fur. Swellest funeral New York ever had, remarked another, ex­ cepting one "way baok when he was % kid. At the corner below stood two pa* trol wagons, also waiting. Inside the house sat the carefully gqests, hushed and stiff and gratified. (Not because they were atr tending a funeral, but because the oc­ casion iPTved to separate them from the chaff; they were the elect) It would be going too far to intimate that they were proud of themselves, but it is not stretching it very much to say that they counted noses with consider­ able satisfaction and were glad that they bad not been left out The real, high-water mark in New York society was established at this memorable function. As one after the other ar­ rived ^and wajli ushered into the huge drawing-room, he or she was accorded a congratulatory look from those al­ ready assembled, a tribute returned with equal amiability. Each one noted who else was there, and each one said to himself that at laet they really had something all to themselves. It waB truly a pleasure, a relief, to be able to do something without being pushed about by people who didn't belong but thought they did. They sat back-- stiffly, of course--and In' utter stillness confessed that there could be such a thing as the survival of the fittest Yes. there wasn't a nose there that couldn't be counted with perfect se­ renity. K was a notable occasion. Mrs. Wrandall, the elder, had made out the list She. did not consult her daughter-in-law In the matter. It is true that Sara forestalled her in a way by sending word, through Leslie, that she would be pleased if Mrs. Wrandall would issue invitations to as many of Challis' friends as she deemed advis­ able. As for herself, she had no wish in the matter; she would be satisfied with whatever arrangements the fam­ ily cared £o make. It is not to be supposed, from the foregoing, that Mrs. Wrandall, the elder, was not stricken to the heart by the lamentable death of her idol. He was her idol. He was her first­ born, he was her love-born. He came to her in the days when she loved her husband without much thought of re­ specting him. She was beginning to regard him as something; more than a lover when Leslie came, so it wae dif­ ferent When their daughter Vivian waa born, she was plainly annoyed but wholly respectful. Mr. Wrandall was no longer the lover; he was her lord and master. The head of the house of Wrandall was a person to be looked up to, to be respected and admired by her, for he was a very great man, but he was dear to her only because he was the father of Challis, the first­ born. In the order of her nature, Challis therefore was her most dearly beloved, Vivian the least desired and last In her affections as well as in sequence. Strangely enough, the three of them perfected a curiously significant rec­ ord of conjugal endowments. Challis had always been the wild, wayward, unrestrained one, and by far the most lovable; Leslie, almost as good look­ ing but with scarcely a noticeable trace of charm that made his brother attractive; Vivian, handsome, selfish and as cheerless as the wind that blows across the icebergs in the north. Challis had been born with a widely enveloping heart and an elastic con­ science; Leslie with a brain and a soul and not much of a heajrt, as things go; Vivian with a soul alone, which be­ longed to God, after all, and not to her. Of course she had a heart, but it was only for the purpose of pumping blood to remote extremities, and had nothing whatever to do with anything so unutterably extraneous aa love, charity or self-s&criflcer ~~ Ae for Mr. Redmond Wrandall he was a Very proper and dignified gentle­ man, and old for his years. - It may be seen, or rather surmised, that if the house of Wrandall had not been so admirably centered under its own vine and fig tree, It might have become divided against itself without much of an effort Mrs. Redmond Wrandall -waa the vine and fig tree. And now they had brought her dear­ ly beloved, son home to her, murdered and--disgraced. If it had been either of the others, she could have eaid: "God's will tie done." Instead, she cried out that God had t\irned against her. Leslie had had the bad taste--or perhaps It was misfortune--to blurt out an agonized "I told you so" -at » time when the family was sitting numb and hushed under the blight of the first horrid blow. He did not mean to be unfeeling. It was the truth burst­ ing from his unhappy lips. r , "I knew Chal would come to this--- I knew it," he had said. His arm was about the quivering shoulders of his 'mother as he said it She looked up, a sob breaking in her throat. For a long time she looked into the face of her second son. "How can you--how dare you say such a thing as that?" she cried, aghast He colored, and drew her closer to him. "I--I didn't mean it," he faltered. "You have always taken sides against him," began his mother. "Please, mother," he cried miser­ ably. "You say this to me now." she went on. "You who are left to take his nlace in mv affection--why, Leslie, I --I" Vivian interposed. "Les is upset, mamma darling. You know he loved Challis as deeply as any of us loved him." 7 Afterwards the girl said to Leslie when they were quite alone: "She will never forgive you for that, Les. It was a beastly thing, to say." He bit his lip, which trembled. "She's never cared for me as she cared for Chal. I'm sorry if Pve made It; worse." "See here, Leslie, was Chal "Yes. I meant what I eaid * while ago. it was sure to happen to him one time or another. Sara's had a lot to put up with." "Sara!. If she had been the right sort of a wife, this never would have happened." "After all is said and done, VIvie, Sara's in a position to rUb it in on us if she's of a mind to do so. She wont do it, of course, but--I wonder if she Isn't gloating, just the same." "Haven't we treated her as one.of us?" demanded she, dabbing her hand­ kerchief in her eyes. "Since the wed­ ding, I mean. Haven't we been kind to her?" "Oh, I think she understands us perfectly," said her brother. "I wonder what she will do now?** mused Vivian, in that speech casting her sister-in-law out of her narrow-! little world as one would throw aside a burnt-out match. "She will profit by experlenoe," eaid he, with some pleasure in a superior wisdom. * • * *. • • • . In Mrs. Wrandall's sitting room at the top of the broad stairway sat the famlly-r-that is to say, the iminediate family--a solemn-faced footman in front of the door that stood fully ajar so that the occupants might hear the words of the minieter aa they ascend­ ed, sonorous and precise, from the hall below. A minister was he who knew the buttered side of his bread. His discourse was to be a beautiful one. ^e stood at the front of the stairs and It was her husband wko finally brought home RUB-NO-MORE, Nowshe'senthusiastic about it. She had in­ tended to buy RUB- NO-MORE WASHING POWDER. But over­ looked it. Don't you overlook it RUB-NO-MOl WASHING PQWD is a sudiess dirt l _ Ai. mover for clothes* )j It cleans your dishes, i' sinks, toilets and' ; cleans and sweeteos t your milk crocks. It | kills germs. It doe* < not need hot water. RUB-NO-MORE RUB-NO-MORE \ Washing Powder Gprbp Naptha Soap } Five Cents'--AM Grocers The Rub-No-More Co., Ft Wayne, Itti. " W.L.DOUGLAS SHOES Men's Women's U !«]*••«,Boys,Children Sl.00 $1.78 $2 $2.0O S3 YOUCANSAVEMOHEY byvmriagtlM h!w. L. BoagM • b*c*u»» >1 nui Z ' |UruM their T&laa by . my um i>i • rtutprf to *h» (bow I llMfNtMtrn for Inferior tboM. miwhrlu tka luml m*X«r*t ci.pn ft .00 •bstiiQ tb« worid. Take No Substitute $1,006,279 INC3LEASE in t&a »alt* of W. £• Douffla* <Ae« i*i 1913 amrlOn. Th« roMon for ih >• ennrtnoua in­ crease in im antes of the TT. L. Dovglojt akoM <» became o/thnir extra vatue,eeneeUent gtj/le,va»t/ fit and Ions ivear. Aak yottr dettiar to chow you the kind of W. L. Donglfta fthoos he h celltaj fiaxta-M, $8.50, $i.oo&»d$440. If tb« W.LDoo|Ua abocs are not for pulo in your vicinity, ©filer direct from factory. Shoe* for er®ry mtmber of fho family et all prices, P&sump fr«e. Writ* for fllaptratad c*Ulf| showing bow to ortior by nmll, • D0T73LA3, 310 Sp*rk 6tr« ̂ Brockton, U&m, »1mt« Hwtetaf, «ptertblshprleSs nwwtwm- He Did Not Mean to Be Unfeeling. * faced the assembled listeners In the hall, the drawing room and the entre­ sol, but his infinitely touching words went up one,fiig&t and lod&ed. Sara Wrandall sat a little to the left of and behind Mrs. Redmond Wran­ dall, about whom were grouped the three remaining Wrandalls, father, son and daughter, closely drawn together. W-ell to the fore were Wrandall uncles and cousins and aunts, and one or two carefully chosen hlood relations to the mistress of the' house, whose hand had loqjg beeh set against kinsmen of less exalted promise. • tTO BE CONTINUED.) LONDON FULL OF BEGGARS Mendicants and Cadgers Appear In ' the Great Metropolis In AU ^ - 8orts of Disguises. There are many^ "professional beg-' gars in London, who have their own copyright methods of extracting coin from a sympathetic and credulous pub­ lic. You may perhaps have come across the distressed goyerness, out of a situation, who asks you in Oxford street the way to walk to Turnham Green, and is so staggered at the dis­ tance that you ask her to accept the bus fare. Then there to the transatlantic Journalist stranded In the metropolis. He is too proud to seek aid from some of his millionaire friends at the Cecil, but If jou could?--and perhaps yon do. Most artistic ef all mendicants Is the old lady of grandmotherly appear­ ance dressed in black silk. She le up in London for the day, and some one has robbed her of her purse. She has called on her solicitor, but unfortu­ nately he was out. What shall she do? You give her the train fare and she promises to sehd the money on to you if you will give her your address. But If you are wise you decline, and thus escape a shoal of begging let­ ters. For addresses of benevolent persons have a market value among the cadging Lmtarnity. -- JLopdeu Chronicle. 4 ' " " Individual or Croup. The words never should .be con­ nected by a disjunctive conjunction. The proper word between the nouns is "and," not "or." The caption above implies that the terms can be separat­ ed, and they cannot. The question was asked the other day if the growth pf group life was destroying tho worth "Of the individual. The reply was giv­ en by a business man who told of a request that had come to hiui tite day before for a man to stand at the cen­ ter of a big group at a salary that makes a minister rub his eyes. Tho great need of the organized group was an individual The two cannot be sundered. The young man who says that there is no lonjc&r any chance for the Individual does not know the facts. Each is necessary to the other. The proper conjunction is "and." Get that into your mind, young man, and then make gbod.--The Congr^gational- |§Sfeg|jg WK^RNTCANADANOW The opportunity of securing' free homesteads of 160 acres each, and . the low priced lands of Manitoba, \ Sasjcatchewaa and Alberta, will ] 8C»n have passed. j Canada offers a hearty weieomt I to the Settler, to the man with & ' family looking for a home; to the farmer's son, to the renter, to all who wish to live under better conditions. 1 Canada's grain yield in 1913 is the talk of the world. Luxuriant Grasses give cheap fodder for large herds; cost of raising and fattening for market is a trifle. The sum realized for Beef. Butter, Milk and Cheese will pay fifty f cent on the investment. Write for literature and partic~ ulars as to reduced railway rates to Superintendent of Immigration, Ottawa, Canada, or to C, J. Br:=^:ts=, US Ssr^ast! LA T. •M, IK Jibtm in., Detroit Gftn&dian Government Act NOW OPEN The & ' Latest ^ Addition to Chicago's Good Hotels ABSOLUTELY FIREPROOF HOTEL LOMBARD Fifth Are. and Qaiacy St. (Near Jackwa BoalcTara) This magnificent hotel contains 200 ruuius. I'llgfc' With private tub bath and t^ilot. Boauuiuil/ fSP" t •lshed, llKbt, airy and spacious. 81.50, .££.00 and UI3.50 p«r clay Trv Hotol Lombard on your next trip to the cltBt jt Located ritjht In 'bo heart of tho banking and buair Bess districts, and nearest to Union. Nortbwestettfc Ladullo and Grand Central Depute. Come once anq you'll coojeuiiain. Inspection invited. c.l.Cull,M,r»ap» ABSOR BINE fl far HiiinanMy^^ A varnished frog dies, not D&ailso bodily poisons accumulate in Its skin, but because of overheating. When the air it breathes becomes warmer than 88 degrees Centigrade. Dr. Vittorio Puntoni of the University of Bologna reports that the frog must use .its porea to radiate the extra heat. The Lancet» discussing his findings, remarks that disease germs were discovered to njiake short work of the varnished ba» trachians, already weakened by swel­ tering. The conclusions of Doctor Puntoni have a practical interest In their relation to the deleterious effects of moist, warm climates and the usa of improper clothiug, which act by diaturbing the cutaneous function. Queer. One queer thing about a woman Is that she will live with and depeai for her living upon a man who la ncwr abla to do anything t? nit h«r. *" STOPS LAMJLNES0 from a Bone Spavin, Ring Bona, Splint, Curb, Side Bone, or similar trouble and j^ets horse going sound. Does not blister or remove tbs hair and horse can be worked. Page 17 in pamphlet with each bottle tells how. 52.00 a bottle delivered^ Horse Book 9 K free. ABSORBINE, JR., antiseptic liniment fff j mankind. Reduces Painful Swellings, Ett* larged Glands, Goitre, Wens, Bruises, Vari­ cose Veins, Varicosities, heals Old Sores. A llay* Pain. Will tell you more if you write. $1 and $2 a bottle at dealers or delivered. Took "Evidence" free. Manufactured only bf W.F.YOUNG, P.O. F., 310 Temple SI.,Sprinfl(ield.lla«% DAISY FLY KILLER KS S Bio. Feat, cle&u. (>** | na»ent«rt,«?nventeiifc cheap. List* all utiol. Made ff metal, can't »pi 11 or tip over, will nut soil M I n j u r * a n y t h i n g . Uuaranteed •tfecilv^ All dealers or G&uMt •xpraaa paid for tl.<a-- •AROLD 80HEB1. ISO Dtfalk AT*.. BnoUjrn, V. North Dakota 2MOT2K.ES' '• and Towner County < ^so o. few of thoM'. Wrilo us tor a beautiful v»k booklet and prices on a few choice frtrrns whiQl We have lor bale. A4drvt>i Tonner • • • . _ -- _ _ _ Wisconsin Opportunities! For sale--5S improvml f:irms in the best dairy. oo»H anil tobucco scotlun of \V'is.-onsin. Also wild land W Northern Wisconsin. If 111 nil interests! wr'.w fOW lull particulars lo HERMAN LEl.i, Molvin^. VFi* - - T 75 Farms South Central Mjnnesotft Rich toll to Jlvu ^t-r ucrn. \Yriu; for iuioruiaiUt#. * KK.SKE CO., Hector, Mlnft - Wfttnon K. Mk> insrtoo,r>.C. Books free. est refercooaa. Beat (aeuU% PATENTS ME* Y3UR UWH BEER uj ilcrculca liool Jieor Cuuipouua Co., Waterloo. la» FRFF MAPS ','Te9 '"formation a hoot farm bargain^ 7 , „ u'°'- «»'*•« rpsanlinn Now York. agricaltur*Jl]r. Cbas.timn.tircinBlili:..JJuiIaAo.Kt KIT*, for descriptions at 100 heantifu nctt« Valley CloTer V;i r or crop (alfaies. CloTer _ „ •OHUAii * irilKcm, uOim, rtus. No dcfctrticlive Attention Home Seekers M^o? address XUwurl Inalpilln BarMH, brrii|ttU, W. N. CHICAGO, NO. 24-1914. * - . Wik