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THE McHENRT T*L AINDE ALER, McHENRY, TLL. - j"' • • V"' i^Cr "ll t ¥' 1 ; ;7. . '<* T';. V '••y I#/ r, ub -t > Can crowding events change a man's moral nature in one round of the .clock? Was it any one event or all of them combined that made Lanyard turn his hack on his former ̂ life? As the Lone Wolf leaps into action like a flash of self-controlled light in the scenes that follow you may find a better answer than the obvious one given by die author. CHAPTER k --1-- T royon's. 'a occupied a corn^ In a Jungle of side streets, well withdrawn from the bustle of the adjacent boule­ vards of St. Germain and St. Michel, nnd In its day was a restaurant fa­ mous with a fame jealously guarded by a select circle of patrons. Its cooking was the best in Paris, its cel­ lar second to none, its rates ridicu­ lously reasonable; yet Baedeker knew It not And in the wisdom of those who did know this was well; It were a pity to loose upon so excellent -an establishment those swarms of tour­ ists that profane every temple of gas­ tronomy on the right bank of the Seine. The building was of three stories, painted a dingy drab, and trimmed with dull-green shutters. The restau­ rant occupied almost all of the street front of the ground floor; a blank, non- commital double doorway at one ex­ treme of the plate-glass windows was seldom open and even more seldom noticed. A medieval maze of corridors, long and short, complicated by many unex­ pected steps and staircases and enig­ matic doors, running every which way, and as a rule landing one in tlie wrong room, linked together some twoscore bedchambers. There were no salons or reception rooms, there was never a bathroom, thore wasn't even running water aside from two hallway taps, one to each story. With such accommodations the guests of Troyon's were well content. One did much as one pleased there, providing one s bill was paid with tol­ erable regularity and the hand kept supple that operated the cordon in the small hours of. the night. Papa Troyon came from a tribe of innkeepers and was liberal-minded; while as for madame, his wife, she cared for noth­ ing but pieces of gold. To Troyon's on a wet wiater night In the year 1893 came the child who, as a man, was to call himself Michael Lanyard. He must have been fouj- or five years old at that time; an age at which consciousness is just begin­ ning to recognize its individuality and memory registers with capricious ir­ regularity. He arrived at the hotel in a state of excitement involving an almost abnormal sensitiveness to im­ pressions; but that was soon drowned deep in dreamless slumber of healthy exhaustion; and when he came to look back through a haze of days, of which each had made its separate and imperative demand upon his budding emotlols, he fonnd his store of tnem- ories strangely dulled a?d disarticu­ late. And the child soon gave oveir his instinctive, but rather inconsecu­ tive, efforts to retrace his history-- life at Troyon's furnished him with compelling and obliterating interests. Madame saw to that. It was madame who took charge of the child when the strange man dragged him crying from the cab through a cold, damp place gloomy with shadows and upstairs to a warm, • bright bedroom; a formidable body, this madame, with cold eyes and many hairy moles, who made odd noises in her throat while she un­ dressed the little boy with the man standing by, noises meant to sound compassionate and maternal, but, to the child at least, hopelessly other­ wise. Then drowsiness stealing upon one over a pillow wet with tears--ob­ livion. And madame it was who ruled with Iron hand the strange new world to Which the boy awakened. The man was gone by morning, and the child never Baw him again; but Inasmuch as those about him under­ stood no English and he no French, it was some time before he compre­ hended tbe false assurances of madame that his father had gone on a Journey, but would presently return. The child knew positively that the man was not bis father, but when be was able tf> make this correction the matter had faded into insignificance-- life had become too painful to leave time or inclination for the adjustment of such minor and Incidental ques­ tions as that of one'9 parentage. The little boy soon learned to know himself as Marcel, which wasn't his name, and before long was unaware he hjid ever worn another. As he grew older he became known as Mar­ cel Troyon: but by then he had for­ gotten bow to speak English. It was a few days after his arrival that the war®, bright bedchamber was exchanged for a cold, dark closet opening off madame's boudoir, a cup­ board furnished with a rickety cot and a broken chair, lacking any pro­ vision for heat or light and ventilated solely by a transom over the door; and inasmuch as madame shared the French horror of drafts and so kept her boudoir hermetically sealed nine months of the year, the transom didn't help matters much. But that closet formed the boy's sole refuge, if a pre­ carious one, through several years; there alone was he ever safe from kicks and cuffs and scoldings for faults beyond his comprehension; but THE LONE WOLF n n By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE ^ (Oopyrtjrht by Louis Joseph Vance.) * he was never permitted a candle, and tbe darkness and loneliness made the place one of haunted terror to the sen­ sitive and imaginative nature of the growing child. He soon learned an almost uncanny cunning in the art of effacing himself when she was imminent, to be as still as death and to move with the silence of a wraith. Not infrequently his hud­ dled immobility in a shadowy corner escaped her notice as she passed. But it exasperated her beyond measure to look up. when she fancied herself alone, and become aware of the wide- eyed. terrified stare of the transfixed child. That he was privileged to attend school at all was wholly due to a great fear that obsessed madame of doing anything to invite the Interest of the authorities. She was an honest wom­ an. according to her lights, an honest wife, and kept an honest house; but she feared the gendarmerie more than the wrath of God. And by ukase of government a certain amount of edu­ cation was compulsory. So Marcel learned, among other things, to read, and thereby took his first blind step toward salvation. Before Marcel was eleven he bad read "Les Miserables" with intense ap­ preciation. His reading, however, was not long confined to works in the French language. Now and again some departing guest would leave an English noved in his room, and these Marcel treasured beyond all other books; they seemed to him, in a way, a part of his birthright He called himself, secretly, English in those days, because he knew he wasn't French--that much, at least, he re­ membered. And then some accident threw his way a small English-French dictionary. He was able to read Eng­ lish before he could speak it. Out of school hours a drudge and scullion, the associate of scullions and their immediate betters, drawn from that caste of loose tongues and looser morals which breeds servants for 'small hotels. Marcel at eleven--as nearly as his age can be computed--possessed a comprehension of life at once exact, exhaustive and appalling. By fifteen he had developed into a long, lank, loutish youth, with a face of extraordinary pallor, a sullen mouth, hot, black eyes, and dark hair like a mane, so seldom was it trimmed. He looked considerably older than he was, and the slightness of his body was deceptive, disguising a power of sinewy strength. More than this, he could care very handily for himself In a scrimmage--la savate (fighting with the feet) had no secrets from him, and he had picked up trickB from the Apaches quite as effectual^ any in the manual of jiujitsu. Paris be knew as you and 1 know the palms of our hands, and he could converse with the precision of the native-born in any one of the city's several odd argots. To these accom­ plishments he added that of a thor­ oughly practiced petty thief. His duties were by day those of valet de chambre on the third floor; by night he acted as omnibus in the restaurant. For these services he re­ ceived no pay and less consideration from bis employers--who would have been horrified by an innuendo that they countenanced slavery--only his board and a bed in a room on the ground floor at the back of the house boasting a small window overlooking a narrow alley. He watf routed out before daylight, and bis working day ended, as a rule, at ten in the evening--but once back in his kennel, its door closed, Marcel was free to squirm out of the window and roam and range Paris at will. And it was thus that he came by most of his knowledge of the city. But for the most part Marcel pre­ ferred to lie ab^d and read himself half blind by the? "light of purloined candle-ends. Books he borrowed as of old from the rooms of guests or else pilfered from quayside stalls. But now and again the guests would pay further, if unconscious tribute, through the sly abstraction of small coins. Vour true Parisian, however, keeps track of bis money to the ulti­ mate sou, an idiosyncrasy which . obliged the boy to practice most of his I peculations on the fugitive guest of ' foreign extraction. In the number of these, perhaps the one best known to Troyon's was Bourke. He was a quick, compact, dangerous little Irishman who had fallen into tbe habit of "resting" at Troyon's when­ ever a vacation from London seemed Poisoned by Aeroplane Varnish . ( l ' i i: VS : The enormously increased produc­ tion of aeroplanes during the war lends point to a warning regarding tbe varnish employed. At the aeroplane ^porkd tb Johaniysthal a number of Workmen employed in tbe varnishing •». department were taken seriously Ul, . #pd two deaths resulted. Tbe moat 'Important symptom was jaundice due :tp decomposition of tbe blood. On investigation the cau6e was found to poisoning by tetrach'lorethane, the *;». V-. only solvent known for the highly combustible acetylcelluloie. These ac­ cidents led to an order forbidding tbe use of solvents containing a bigb per­ centage of tetrachlorethane.--Scien­ tific American. a prescription apt to prove whole­ some for a gentleman of bis kidney; which was rather frequently, arguing that Bourke's professional activities were fairly onerous. Having received most of his educa­ tion in Dublin university. Bourke spoke the purest English known, or could when so minded, while his facile Irish tongue had caught the trick of an accent which passed unchallehged on the boulevards. He had an alert eye for pretty women, a heart as big as all outdoors, no scruples worth men tioning. a secret sorrow, and a pet su­ perstition. The hue of his hair, a clamorous red, was the spring of his secret sor­ row. By that token he was a marked man. His pet superstition was that aa long as he refrained from practicing his profession in Paris. Paris woul-i stand toward him as an impregnable tower of refuge. The world owed Bourke a living, or he so considered, but Paris was tax-exempt as long as Paris let him alone. Not only'did Paris suit his tastes excellently, but there was no place, in Bourke's esteenf, comparable with Troyon's fpr peace and quiet. Hence his visits were unpunctuated by trials of rival hostelries, and Troyon's was always expecting Bourke for the simple reason that he invariably ar­ rived unexpectedly, with neither warn­ ing nor ostentation, stopped as long as he liked, whether a day or a week or a month, and departed in the same manner. His daily routine, as Troyon's came to know it, varied but slightly--he breakfasted abed, about half after ten. dined early and well, but always alone, and shortly afterward departed bv cab for some well-known bar on the Rive Droite; and the hour of his re­ turn remained a secret between him­ self and the concierge. On retiring Bourke would empty his pockets upon the dressing table, Whtere the boy, Marcel, bringing up Bourke's petit dejeuner the next morn­ ing, would see displayed a tempting confusion of gold and silver and cop­ per, with a wad of banknotes, and the customary assortment of personal hardware. . Now inasmuch as Bourke was never wide awake at that hour, and always, after acknowledging Marcel's "bon jour," rolled over and snored for glory and the saints, it was against human nature to resist the lure of that dress­ ing table. Marcel seldom departed without a coin or two. He had yet to learn that Bourke's habits were those of an Englishman, who never goes to bed without leav­ ing all his pocket money in plain sight and--carefully catalogued in his mem ory. One morning in the spring of 1904 Mar.cel served Bourke his last break­ fast at Troyon's., Tbe Irishman had been on the prowl the previous night, and his rasping snore was audible even through the closed door when Marcel knocked and. receiving no answer, used the pass key and entered. At this the snore was briefly interrupt­ ed ; Bourke, visible at first only as a flaming shock of hair protruding from the bedclothes, squirmed an eye above his artificial horizon, opened it. mum­ bled inarticulate acknowledgment of Marcel's salutation, and passed bla­ tantly into further slumbers. Marcel deposited his tray on a table beside the bed, then moved quietly to the windows, closed them, and drew tbe lace curtains together. The dress­ ing table between tbe two windows displayed, amid the silver and copper, more gold coins than it commonly did --some eighteen or twenty louis alto­ gether. Adroitly abstracting in pass­ ing a piece of ten francs, Marcel went on his way rejoicing, touched a match to the fire ready laid in the grate, and was nearing the door when, casting one casual parting glance at the bed he became aware of a notable phenom enon--the snoring was going on lus ttly, but Bourke was watching him with both eyes wide and filled with in­ terest. Startled, and, to tell tbe truth, a bit indignant, the boy stopped as though at word of command. But after the^flrst* flush of astonishment his youngfface hardened to immobil Ity. Only his eyes remained constant to Bourke's. Tbe Irishman, sitting up in bed, de­ manded and received the gold piece, and went on to Indict the boy for the embezzlement of several sums run­ ning Into a number of louis. Matter of Speculation. Penelope--"Did the play have a hap­ py ending?" Perclval--"How should I know?" Penelope--"You saw It. didn't you?" Perclval--"Yes, but tbe hero and the heroine married each oth­ er."--Judges Marcel, reflecting that Bourke's reckoning was still some louis shy, made no bones about pleading guilty. Interrogated, the culprit deposed that he had taken the money because ^ie needed it to buy books. No, he wasri^t sorry. Yes, it was probable that, granted further opportunity, he would do it again. Advised that he was ap­ parently a case-bardened young crimi nal, he replied that youth was not his fault; with years and experience he would certainly improve. Puzzled by the boy's attitude, Bourke agitated his hair and won­ dered aloud how Marcel would like it if his employers were Informed of bis peculations. Marcel looked pained, and pointed out that such a course on the part of Bourke would be obviously unfair; the only real difference between them, he explained, was that where he filched a louis Bourke filched thousands, and if Boqrke insisted on turning him over to the mercies of Mme. and Papa Troyon, who would certainly summon a sergeant de ville, he. Marcel, would be quite justified in retaliating by telling the prefecture de police all that he knew about Bourke. This was ho chance shot, and went home. When, dismayed, tbe Irishman blustered, demanding to know what the boy meant by his damned Impu­ dence, Marcel quietly advised him that one knew what one knew--if one read the English newspaper in the cafe, as Marcel did, one could hardly fall to remark that monsieur always came to Paris after some notable bur­ glary had been committed in London; and If one troubled to follow mon­ sieur by night, as Marcel had, it be­ came evident that monsieur's first calls in Paris were Invariably made at the establishment of a famous fence in the Rue des Trois Freres; and. finally, one drew one's own con­ clusions when strangers dining in the restaurant--as on the night before, by way of Illustration--strangers who wore all the hallmarks of police de- The Boy Stopped as Though at Word of Command. tectlves from England, catechized one about a person whose description was the portrait of Bourke, and promised a hunclred-franc note for information concerning the habits and where­ abouts of that person, if seen. Marcel added, while Bourke gasped for breath, that the gentleman in ques­ tion had spoken to him alone, in the absence of other waiters, and had been fobbed off with a lie. But why--Bourke wanted -to know-- had Marcel lied to save him. when the truth would have earned him a hun­ dred francs? "Because." Marcel explained coolly, "I, too, am a thief. Monsieur will per­ ceive it was a matter of professional honor." Now the Irish have their faults, but ingratitude Is not of their number. Bourke, packing hastily to leave Paris. France, and Europe by the first feasible route, still found time to ques­ tion Marcel briefly, and what be learned from the boy about his ante­ cedents so worked with gratitude upon the Irishman's sentimental nature that when, on the third day following, the Cunarder Carpathia left Naples for New York, she carried among her first-class passengers not only a gen Chinese Using Oil Lamps. The first kerosene oil lamps seen by the Chinese were In the homes of the missionaries. They were soon in such demand that in a recent year oil to tbe value of $14,500,000 was sent to China. A Roland for an Oliver. "Am i the only girl you ever loved?" "Well, If you've had any experience at being loved, you ought to tell that by the way 1 make 1L" Fabulous Bird. The roe. a fabulous bird often re­ ferred to in tbe "Arabian Nights." was believed to be of Bucb enormous size and strength as to be able to carry seven elephants in its talons. tleman whore brilliant black hair and glowing pink complexion rendered him a bit too conspicuous for his own com fort, but als^, in the Becond cabin, his valet, a boy of sixteen who looked eighteen. The gentleman'p name on the pas­ senger list didn't, of course, in the least resenjble Bourke, His valet's was given as Michael Lanyard. The origin of this name is obscure; Michael, being easily corrupted into good Irish Mickey, may safely be at­ tributed to Bourke; Lanyard has a tang of the sea which suggests a rem­ iniscence of Bome sea tale prized by the pseudo Marcel Troyon. In New York began the second stage In the education of a professional criminal. The boy would have searched far to find a preceptor of more sound attainments than Bourke. It is. however, only ffcir to say that Bourke ,would have looked far for an apter pupil. Under his tutelage Michael Lan­ yard learned many things; he became a mathematician of considerable prom­ ise, an expert mechanician, a con­ noisseur of armor plate and explosives in their more pacific applications, and he learned to grade preicious stones .with a glance. Also, because Bourke was born of gentlefolk, he learned to speak English and what clothes to wear and when to wear them, as well as the cultivated -use of knife and fork at table; and because Bourke was a diplomatist doomed to blush unseen, he acquired the knack of being at ease In every grade of society--he came to know *iuit a self-made millionaire, taken tne right way, is as approach­ able as one whose millions date back even unto the third generation; he could order a dinner at Sherry's as readily as drinks at Sharkey's. Most valuable accomplishment of all, he learned to laugh. By way of by-products be picked up a working acquaintance with Ameri­ can, English and German slang-- French slang he already knew as a mother tongue -- considerable geo­ graphical knowledge of the capitals of Europe, America and Ill'nols. a -taste that discriminated between tobacco and the stuff sold as such in France, and a genuine passion for fine paint­ ings. Finally Bourke drilled into his Ap­ prentice the three cardinal principles of successful cracksmanship--to know his -ground thoroughly before ventur­ ing upon it; to strike and retreat with the swift precision of a hawk; to be friendless. And the last of these was the great­ est. "You're a promising lad," he said-- so often that Lanyard would almost wince from that formula of introduc­ tion--"a promising lad, though it's sad I should be to say It Instead of proud as I am. For I've made ye--but for me you'd long since have matricu­ lated at La Tour Pointue and gradu­ ated with the canaille of the Sante. And in time you may become a first- chop operator, which I'm not and never will be; but if you do, 'twill be through fighting Bhy of two things The first of them's woman, and the second is man. To make a friend of a man you must lower your guard. Or­ dinarily 'tis fatal. As for woman, re­ member this, m' lad: to let love into your life you must open a door no mortal hand can close. And God only knows what'll follow In. "If ever you find you've fallen in love and can't fall out cut the game on the instant, or you'll end wearing stripes or broad arrows--the same as mys0lf would. If this cursed cough wasn't going to be thf death of me No, m' lad; take a fool's advice (you'll never get better) and when you're shet of me. which will be soon, I'm thinking, take the lonesome road and stick to the middle of it. 'He travels the fastest who travels alone* is a true saying, but 'tis only half the truth: he travels the farthest into the bargain. Yet the lonesome road has its drawbacks, lad--It's damned lonely!" Bourke died in Switzerland of con­ sumption, in the winter of 1910--Lan­ yard at his side till the end. Then the boy set hi* face against the world--alone, lonely and remem­ bering. CHAPTER IL Return. "His return to Troyon's, although an enterprise which Lanyard had been contemplating for several years, ever since the death of Bourke. came to ' pass at length fair of impulse. He had come through from London by the afternoon service--via Bou­ logne--traveling light with nothing but a brace of handbags- and his life in his hands. Two coups to bis credit since the previous midnight bad made the shift advisable, though only one of them, the later, rendered it urgent. Scotland Yard would, he reckoned, require at least twenty-four hours to unlimber for action on the Omber af­ fair; but the other, the disappearance of tbe Huysman plans, although not consummated before noon, must have set the chancelleries of at least three powers by the ears before Lanyard was fairly entrained at Charing Cross. Now bis opinion of Scotland Yard was low; Its emissaries must operate gingerly to keep within the laws they serve. But the agents of the various continental'secret services have a way of making their own laws as they go along--and for these Lanyard enter­ tained a respect little short of pro­ found. He would not have been surprised had he run foul of trouble on the pier at Folkestone. Boulogne, as well, fig­ ured in his imagination as a crucial point--its harbor lights, heaving up over the grim, gray waste, peered through the deepening violet dusk to find him on the packet's deck, re­ sponding to their curious stare with one no less Insistently inquiring. But it wasn't until he reached the Gare du Nord, Itself thpt he found anything to shy at. Dropping from train to platform, he surrendered his luggage to a ready facteur and followed the fellow through the crush, elbowed and shoul­ dered, offended by the pervasive reek of chilled steam and coal gas and dazzled by the brilliant glare of the overhanging electric arcs. , Almost the first face he sawtnrned his way was that of Roddy. The man from Scotland Yard was stationed at one side of the platform gates. Opposite him stood another decorative official from the prefecture de police. Both were scanning nar­ rowly every face in the tide that churned between them. Wondering if through some fatal freak of fortuity these were acting under late telegraphic advices from London, Lanyard held himself well in hand. The first indication of an in­ tent to hinder him would have proved the signal for a spectacular demon­ stration of the ungentle art of not get­ ting caught with the goods. And for twenty seconds, while the crowd milled slowly through the nsr- row exit, he was as near to betraying himself as he had ever been--nearer, for he had marked down the point on Roddy's Jaw where his first blow would fall and just where to plant a coup de savate most surely to In­ capacitate the minion of the prefec­ ture; and all the while he was look­ ing the two over with a manner of the most calm and impersonal curiosity. But beyond an almost Imperceptible narrowing of Roddy's eyes when they met his own, as if the Englishman were struggling with a faulty memory, neither police agent betrayed a sign of recognition. And then Lanyard was outside the station, his porter introducing him to a ramshackle taxlcab. "Troyon's!" he told the cocher. When at length his conveyance drew up at the historic corner Lanyard, alighting, could have rubbed his eyes to see the windows of Troyon's all bright with electric light. Somehow, and most unreasonably he had always believed the place would go to the bands of the house wrecker unchanged. A smart portier ducked out, seized his luggage and held an umbrella. Lanyard composed his features to Im­ mobility as he entered the hbtel. of no mind to let the least flicker of rec­ ognition be detected in his eyes when they should encounter familiar faces. And this was quite as well--for again the first he saw was Roddy's? The man from Scotland Yard had just surrendered hat, coat and "Um­ brella to the porter In the lobby, and was turning through swinging doors to the dining room. Again taking in Lanyard, his glanco seemed devoid of any sort of Intelligible expression; a^nd before quitting the lobby Roddy paused long enough to order a Are laid in his room. So he was stopping at Troyon's-- and didn't care who knew it! His doubts altogether dissipated br this discovery. Lanyard followed hit natural enemy into the dining room with an air as devil-may-care as on« could wish and so Impressive that the maitre d'hotel abandoned the detec­ tive to the mercies of one of his cap­ tains and himself hastened to seat Lanyard and take his order. This last disposed of. Lanyard sur­ rendered himself to new impressions- • of which tjie first proved ,a hit die heartening. ® (TO BH CONTINUED.) Vinegar for Colored Clothes. A cupful of vinegar added to th< water in which colored clothes arc wauhed will often prevent the color from running. Never a Popular Man. A confirmed weather prophet gets out df touch with his fellow man. His idea of real happiness Is to give out a prediction of a blizzard and have it co,ne true. A few years ago I beard Georg Bernard Shaw give a lecture' before the Camera club in London. The one thing that 1 remember that be said was that. In going Into a bouse, be could always tell tbe degree of oul ture and refinement there *#as in that bouse by the width of the mats on tbe pictures. Of course, Mr. Shaw was trying to be funny as usual, and as usual there was lots of truth In what h« said, if every one would make a On Framing Pictures tour or the house with that is mind take down those pictures with tht wide white or colored mats and have them refrained close, or If a certain one seems to demand a mat, have a very narrow one put on It they would really be surprised to see the im­ provement in tbe appearance of tht rooms In many cases the saint frames could be used; thev would onl? need to be ut down.-- -Pfcil*delt>hl) Public Ledger. "CMRETS" FOR LIVER, BOWELS f. - For sick headache, bad bceatlv Sour Stomach and constipation. Oet a 10-cent box now. No odds how bad your liver, i or bowels; how much your head aches, how miserable and uncomfort­ able you are from constipation, indiges­ tion, biliousness and Bluggish bowels --you always get the desired results with Cascarets. Don't let your stomach, liver »nd bowels make you miserable. Take Cascarets to-night; put an end to the headache, biliousness, dizziness, nerrr ousness, sick, sour, gassy stomach, backache and all other distress; cleanse your inside organs of all the bile, gases and constipated matter which is producing the misery. A 10-cent box means health, happf> ness and a clear head for months. No more days of gloom and distress if you will take a Cascaret now and then. All stores sell Cascarets. Don't forget the children--their little ia- sides need a cleansing, too. Adv. A frenzied financier is one who pro­ vides for his family at the expense of those who are not cognizant of his game. MOTHER! LOOK AT If cross, feverish, constipated, give "California Syrup of Figs." . v A laxative today saves a sick child tomorrow. Children simply will not take the time from play to empty their bowels, which become clogged up with waste, liver gets sluggish; stomach sour. Look at the tongue, mother! If coat­ ed, or your child is listless, cross, fev­ erish, breath bad, restless, doesn't eat heartily, full of cold or has sore throat or any other children's ailment, give a teaspoonful of "California Syrup of Figs," then don't worry, because it Is perfectly harmless, and in a few hours all this constipation poison, sour bile and fermenting waste will gently move out of the bowels, and you have a well, playful child again. A thor­ ough "inside cleansing" is ofttimes all that is necessary. It should be the first treatment given in any sickness. Beware of counterfeit fig syrupy Ask at the store for a 50-cent bottle of. "California Syrup of Figs," which has full directions for babies, children of all ages and for grown-ups plainly printed on the bottle. Adv. Takes Place of Call Boy. No longer will hotel clerks have to 'page" tho corridors, lobbies and bars when a visitor asks for a guest who cannot be found in his room, Popular Science Magazine says. It will only be necessary to take the key which Mr. Jones has left at the desk, and af­ ter a glance say, "Mr. Jones may be found in the grillroom." The labor-saving device which will make this possible is a novel key tag which has recently been patented by a Chicago inventor. The tag, on which the number of the room is stamped, is aval, and is imprinted with a clock face. By means of a pin Jn the center of the tag the key may be fastened 30 that it will act as the clock hand, indicating the approximate time when the user expects to return. On the outer edge of the tag is a series of small holes. Near these are stamped the names of the various public rooms of the hotel. Another pin is attached to the tag by means of a light cord or ohain, and this may be placed in any of the holes, indicating the place where he may be found. Careful. "Will the vaccination mark show, doctor?" "That depends entirely on you. tiiadam!"--Puck. 1 Cost Time. First ex-Convict--You said you had a diamond pin. What did it cost you? Second Ditto--Six months. MORE THAN EVER Increased Capacity for Work 8lnee Leaving Off Coffee. Many former coffee drinker* who have mental work to perform day af­ ter day, have found a better capacity and greater endurance by using Poa- turn instead of coffee. An Illinois woman writes; "I had drank coffee for about twenty years, and finally had what the doctor called 'coffee heart.' I was nervous and extremely despondent; had little men­ tal or physical strength left; had kid­ ney trouble and constipation. "The first noticeable benefit which followed the cliange from coffee to Postum was the improved action of the kidneys and bowels. In two weeks my heart action was greatly improved and my nerves steadier. "Then I became less despondent, and the desire to be active agate showed proof of renewed physical and mental strength. "I formerly did mental work and had to give it up on account of coffee, but since using Postum I am doing hard mental labor with lesa fatigue." Nam* given by Postum Co., Battle Creak* Mich. Postum comes in two forms: Postum Cereal--the original form- must he well boiled, 15c and 26c pack­ ages. Instant Postum--a soluble powder - dissolves quickly In a cup of hot w»» ter, and, with cream and sugar, makes a delicious beverage instantly. 30c and 50c tins. v Both forms are equklly delicious tad cost about the same per cup. •There's a Reason" tor Postom. --sold by Oroeera