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

< T : X T t * ' r - x?* *'®* v - *-,iiivi *.)•' sJ* LONE iWOI>F H'/". ;V 4% :'il •* sk!% „ ^ Vif it ./,;-« #« iaM by Louie Joseph Vane®.) SYNOPSIS. « , ' .̂ 5 ' «^-y.V." VT-*» ""? -* tw- "' ... v>, '* "V:".* , *"!>">% Y_ i..-. THE MCHENRT PLAINDEALER, MCKENBT, IIX./ - , '4?*^: *1,4. ' £ • .< • rv A *»« - f v ^ r ' /,' &.• After stealing fti© Omber Jewels aTtd the Huysir.an war plans In London Michael I^aitya.-d returns to Troyon's, Pari3 inn, for the first time In many years because he thinks Roddy, a Scotland Yard man, to on his trail. On arrival he finds Roddy already Installed as a guest. At dinner a conversation between Conite de Morbi-' han. M. Bannon and Mile. Bannon about the Lone JVolf. a celebrated cracksman who work# alone, alarms Mm. Lanyard dresses and goes out. leaving Roddy snor­ ing: In the next room, then comes back stealthily, to And in his room Mile. Ban­ non, who explains her presence by saying1 that she was sleep-walking. In his apart- n.ent near the Trocadero he finds written on the back of a 30 pound note, part of his concealed emergency hoard, an invitation ft"om The Pack to the Lone Wolf to Join them. Lanyard attempts to dispose of the Omber Jewels, but finds that The Pack has forbidden the buyers to deal With h'm. He decides to meet The Pack. De Morblhan meets him and takes him before three masked members of The Pack. He recognizes Popinot, apache, and Wertheimer, English mobsman, but the third, an American. IS unknown to nun. He refuses alliance with them. On tils return to his room he is attacked In the dark, but knocks out his assailant. He gives the unconscious man. who proves to be the mysterious American, a hypo^- dermic to keep him quiets discovers that Roddy has been murdered In his bed with the evident intention of fastening the crime on him, and changing the appear­ ance of tha unconscious American to re­ semble his own. starts to leave the house. In the corridor he encounters Lucia Ban­ non, who insists on leaving with him. CHAPTER X||--Continued* Her hands moved toward hfm hi a flutter of entreaty: "I. too, mast leave unseen--I must! Take me with you-- and I promise you no one shall ever know--" He lacked ~iime to weigh the disad­ vantages inherent in her proposition; though she offered him a heavy handi-. cap, he had no- choice but to accept It without protest. "Come, then," he told her--"and not s sound--" 8he signified assent with another nod, and promptly he turned to an ad­ jacent door, opened it gently, whipped out his flash-lamp, and passed through. Without sign of hesitancy she fol­ lowed. and like two shadows they dogged that dancing spotlight through a linen closet and service room, down a shallow well threaded by a spiral of Iron steps and, by way of a long cor- rldor that linked the kitchen offices, on to a stout door of oak secured only by huge, old-style bolts of iron. In two minutes from the moment of their encounter they stood outside Troyon's, that door at their back, fac­ ing a cramped, malodorous alleyway-- a dark and noisome souvenir of that wild medieval Paris whose effacement la an enduring monument to the fame of the good Baron Haussmann. For all ItB might and its omniscience, lanyard doubted if the Pack had as yat identified Michael Lanyard with that ill-starred Marcel who once had been as intimate with this secret way fts any skulking Tom of its feline He named the street, and she shook her head. ' "That doesn't mean much to me," she Confessedj "I'm so strange in Paris, I know only a few of the prin­ cipal streets. Where Is the Boulevard St. Germain?" Lanyard indicated the direction: "Two blocks that way." "Thank you."- She advanced a step or two. but pauti&d again. "DO y6u know, possibly, just where I coula find a taxi- cab?" He smiled deceptively: "Don't worry about that. Where do you wish to go?" "To the Gare du Nord." That made him open his eyes. "The Gare du Nord!" he echoed. "But--I beg your pardon--" "I wish to catch the first train for London," the girl informed him calmly. "Youll have some time to wait," Lanyard informed her. "The first train leaves about half past eight, and now it's not more than five." "That can't be helped. I can wait in the station." > He shrugged; that was her look­ out--if she were sincere in her asser­ tion that she meant to leave Paris; something which he took the liberty .of doubting. "You can reach It by the Metro," he suggested -- "the underground, you know: there's a station handy--St. Germain des Pres. If you like, I'll show you the way." Her relief seemed so naive he could almost have believed-It genuine. Aod yet--" "I shall be very grateful," she mur­ mured. He took thafcrfor whatever worth it might assay and quietly fell into place beside her, and in mutual si­ lence--perhaps largely due to her in- "I shall manage very well. 1 shan't be there more than a day or two--till the next steamer sails." "I see." There had sounded In her tone a finality which signified dea,ire to drop the subject. None the less he pursued mischievously: "Permit me to wish you bon voyage, Miss Bannon-- and to express my regret that circum­ stances have conspired to change your plans." She was still eying him askance, du­ biously, as \t weighing the question of his acquaiirfance with her plans, when the fiacre lumbered from the Rue Vivi- enne into the Place de la Bourse, rounded that frowning pile, and drew up on its north side before the blue lights of the all-night telegraph bureau. "With permission," Lanyard said. But I'll direct the cocher^very care­ fully to the Gare du Nord. Please don't even tip him--that's my affair. No, not another word of thanks; to have been permitted to be of service-Ht is a unique pleasure. Miss Banikon. And ; so, good night!" With an effect that seemed little less than timid the girl offered her hand. "Thank you, Mr. Lanyard." she said In an unsteady voice. "I am sorry--" But she didn't say what it was she regretted, and Lanyard, standing with bared head in the driving mist, touched her fingers coolly, repeated his fare­ wells, gave the driver both money and instructions, and saw the cab lurch away before he turned toward the tel- egraphbureau. CHAPTER XIII. Companions. The enigma of the girl so deeply In­ trigued his imagination that it was only with difficulty that he concocted After a little pause Tie commented: "That does complicate matters, doesn't it?" __ r "What am I to do? I cant go back-- I won't! Anything rather, You may judge how desperate I am when I pre­ fer to throw myself on your gener owity--and already I've strained your patience--" "Not much," he interrupted pleas­ antly, in a soothing voice. "But--half a moment--we'll have to talk this over," Directing the cocher to. drive to the Place Pigalle, he re-entered the cab, suspicion more thaa ever rife in his mind. But as far as he could see-- with that confounded sergent de villo staring--there was nothing else for it. He couldn't stand there in the rain for­ ever, gossiping with a girl half hyster­ ical or pretending to be. *You see," she explained when the fiaere was again under way, "I thought had a hundred-franc note in my pock- etbook, and so I have--but the pocket book's back there In my room at Troyon's." "A hundred francs wouldn't see you far toward New York," he dbserved thoughtfully. "Oh, I hope you don't think--" ^ She drew back into her corner-wltjr a little'shudder of humiliation' As, if he hadn't, Lanyard turned to the window, leaned out, and redirected the driver sharply: "Impasse Stanis­ las,!" Immediately the vehicle swerved, rounded a corner, and made back toward the Seine with a celerity which suggested that the stables lay on th% Rive Gauche. "Where?" the girl demanded as Lan­ yard tat back# "Where are you taking me?" "I'm sorry," Lanyard said, with e?ery appeardnce of sudden contrition; "I acted impulsively--on the assumption of your complete confidence. Which, of course, was unpardonable. But, believe me, you have only to say no, and it shall be as you wish." "But," she persisted Impatiently-- "you haven't answered me: what is this Impasse Stanislas?" "The address of an artist I know-- Solon, the painter. We're going to take possession of his studio-residence in his absence. Don't worry.; he won't mind. He is under heavy obligation to me--I've sold several canvases for him, and when he's awqy. as now, In the States, he.leaves me the keys. It's a sober-minded, steady-paced neigh­ borhood. where we can rest without misgivings and take our time to think things out." "" " "But--" the girt began ip an 6dd tone. "Permit me," he Interposed hastily, "to urge the facts of the case upon your consideration." "Weil?" she saki in the same~tone, as he paused. "To begin with--I don't doubt you've turned ts an iron gate in a high stone wall crowned with spikes. The grillework of that gate afforded glimpses of a small, dark gafden and a little house of two stories. Blank walls of beetling tenements shouldered both house and garden on either side. Unlocking the gate with a ready key, Lanyard refastened it very carefully, repeated the business at the front door of the house, and when they were se­ curely locked and bolted within a dark reception room, turned on the electric light , But he granted the girl little more than time for a fugitive survey of this anteroom to an establishment of unique artistic character. "Solon's living quarters are down­ stairs here," he explained hurriedly. "He's unmarried, and lives quite alone--his studio devil and the woman who cares for things come in by the day only--and so he avoids that pest of Parisian life, the concierge. With your permission, III assign you to the studio--up here." And leading the way up a narrow flight of steps, he had made a light in the huge room by the time the girl joined him. "I believe youH be comfortable," he said. "That divan yonder is as easy a couch as one could wish--and there's this door you can lock at the head of the staircase; while I, of course, will be on guard below. And now. Miss Bannon--unless there's something else I can do--" The girl answered with a wan smile and a little broken sigh. Almost In voluntarily, in the heaviness of her fatigue, she* had surrendered to the hospitable arms of a huge lounge chair. Her weary glance ranged the luxuri­ ously appointed studio and returned to Lanyard's face, and while he waited he fancied he caught something mov­ ing and wistful in those eyes so deeply shadowed with distress, perplexity and fatigue. "I'm very tired Indeed," she con­ fessed--"more than I knew. But I'm sure I shall be comfortable. And I count myself very fortunate, Mr. Lan­ yard. You've been more kind that I deserve. Without you, I don't like to think what might have become of me." "Please don't!" he pleaded. And sud­ denly discountenanced by conscious­ ness of his duplicity,, he turned to the stairs. "Good night, Miss Bannon," he mumbled, and was half way down be- tuitive sense of his bias--they gained f a noncommittal telegram to Roddy's 'V , •/ y ^ ' i ' But with this one confidence was '& never a^n *o foolhardiness; and if. It"' ,f. 7 tofore leaving Troyon's back door, he * paused to take the girl's hand •ad had drawn It through his arm--it was his left arm that he thus dedi­ cated to gallantry--his right hand remained imJs&apered an<f was never far from the grip of his automatic. I. Nor waj he altogether trustful of his Cofiapa&'&XL Momentarily he grew more jealcusly heedful of her, of every nu- ' ' v'i ance ter ****** The least trace of added pressure on his arm. the most y t' gubtle mggmti'ju that the wasn't alto- K®ther lnd;ff^f^t to him or regarded £'^«V toim in any way other than as the -chance-found comrade of aa hour of ti f t w o u l d n a v e p i v T e d c u u u ^ ' i ! t o fe; Ms suspicions. For such, he told Htimself, would be the first thought of wi® bftnt on beguiling, to lead him on «°me intimation--the more tenuous y and elusive the more provoking-- she found him In person not altogether objectionable. ' But he failed to find anything of this In her manner. So what was he to think?» That she was alert enough to appreciate how ruinous to her design would be any such advances? In such perplexity he brought her to the mouth of the alley and there palled up for reconnoissance before venturing forth into the narrow, dark and utterly deserted side street, that presented itself. At this the girl gently disengaged her hand and drew away a pace or tifo, and when Lanyard had satisfied himself that there were no Apaches In the ofllng he turned to see her standing there, Just within the en- trance to the alley, in a pose of blank s Indecision. Conscious of his regard, she turned to his Inspection a face touched with a fugitive, uncertain smile. "Where are we now?" she asked la guarded tone. T % X-/|- . the Boulevard St Germain. But here, even as they emerged from the side street, that happened which again upset Lanyard's plans--a belated fiacre hove up out of the mist and ranged alongside, its driver loudly soliciting patronage. Beneath his breath Lanyard cursed the man liberally; nothing could have been more ipopportunej he needed that uncouth conveyance for his own purposes, and If it had only waited un­ til he had piloted the girl to the Metro- politain station, he might have had it. Now he must either yield the cab to the girl or--share it with her. * Somewhat sulkily, then, if without betraying his temper, he signaled the cocher, opened the door, and handed the girl in with the suggestion; "If you don't mind dropping me en route." "I shall be very glad," she said-- "anything to repay, even In part the courtesy you've shown me!" "Oh. olease don't worry about that" He gave the driver precise direc­ tions. climbed in, and settled'himself beside the girl. The whip cracked, the horse sighed, the driver swore, the aged fiacre groaned, stirred reluctant­ ly, crawled wearily off through tie thickening drizzle. Within its body a common restraint held silence like a wall between the two. The girl sat with face averted, read­ ing through the window what earner signs they passed. And in his turn Lanyard reviewed those well-remembered ways in vest weariness of spirit -- disgusted with himself in consciousness that the girl had somehow divined his distrust. "The Lone Wolf, eh?" he mused bit­ terly. "Rather, the Cornered Rat--if people only knew! Better still, the Errant--no--the Arrant Ass!" They were skirting the Palais Royal when suddenly she turned to him in an Impulsive attempt at self-justification. "What must yon be thinking of me, Mr. Lanyard!" "Oh. as to that" he countered cheer­ fully, "I've got a pretty definite no­ tion that yon're running away from your father." "Yes. I couldn't stand it any longer--" . She caught herself up, as thongh tempted but afraid to say more. He waited briefly before offering encour­ agement. • "1 hope t havent ssemsd imperti­ nent." "No. no!" Than this Impatient negative his pause of invitation evoked no other recognition. 8he had subsided into her reserve, but--he fancied--not alto­ gether willingly. Was it. then, possible that he had misjudged her? "You've friends In London, no doubt?" he hazarded,, "No--none." "But--" acquaintance in the prefecture de po­ lice--that imposing personage who had watched with the man from Scotland Yard at the platform gates in the Gare du Nord. It was couched In English when eventually composed and submitted to the telegraph clerk with a fervent, If inaudible, prayer that he might be Ignorant of the tongue. "Come at once to my room at Troy on's. Enter via adjoining room pre­ pared for immediate action on impor­ tant development. Urgent. "RODDY." Whether or not this were Greek to the man behind the wicket in the tele­ graph bureau, it was accepted with complete indifference--or, rather, with an interest that apparently evaporated upon receipt of the fees. Lanyard couldn't see that the clerk favored him with as much as a curious glance be­ fore he turned away to lose himself, to bury his identity finaFTy and forever under the incognito of the Lone Wolf. He couldn't have rested without tak­ ing that one step to compamr the- arrest of the American assassin;; now, with Inek and prompt action on the part of the prefecture, he felt sure that Roddy would be avenged by M. d'e Paris. But It was quite as well that there should be no clue whereby the author of the mysterious telegram might be traced. It was, then, not an ill-pleased; Lan­ yard who slipped off into the night and the rain; but his exasperation was elaborate when the first object that met his gaze was that wretched' fiacre, back in place before the door; Lucia- Bairndm leaning from its lowered* win­ dow, the cocher on his box brandish­ ing an importunate whip at the ad' venturer.'- He barely escaped choking on sup* pressed profanity, and for two sous would have swung on his heel and ignored the girl deliberately. But he didn't dare--close at hand stood a ser­ geant de ville, inquisitive eyes bright beneath the dripping vizor of his cap, keenly welcoming this diversion of a cheerless hour. With at least outward semblance of resignation Lanyard approached the "window. "I have been guilty of some stupidt- ity, perhaps?" he inquired with lip- civility that knew no echo in his heart. "But I am sorry--" "The stupidity is mine," the girt in­ terrupted in accents tense with agi­ tation. "Mr. Lanyard, I--I--" Her voice faltered and broke in a short, dry sob, and she drew back with an effort of Instinctive distaste for public emotion. Lanyard smothered an impulse to demand roughly; "Weii. what now?" and came closer to the window. "There is something elae 1 can do, Miss Bannon?" "I don't know. "I've just found it out--I ©Mfte away so hurriedly I never thought make sure; but I've no money--only a few franca!" : "Why Did You Lock Me Inf The First Object That Met His Gaze Was That Wretched Fiacre. gawd' reason for i aiming away from your father."" "A very real!, a very grave reaaon," site affirmed' quieffy. "And you'd' ratber not go back--" "That is out ot the <*ueHtiou!" with restrained paesios' that almost won his credulity. "But you've m» friends la Paris?" "Not one*- "And no money. So H seems, if yon're to efude your father, you must find some place to hide pro tem. As foe myself, Fve not slept in forty-eight hears and1 must rest before I can do mere, before ITT be able to think clear­ ly and plan ahead. And we won't ac- eempllsh much riding round forever In this miserable ark. So I offer you the only solfution I'm capable of ad­ vancing under the' circumstances." "You are quite right," the girl agreed after a moment. "Please don't think me unappreciathrs. Indeed, it makes me very unhappy to think 1 know no way to make amends for your trouble." "There may he a way," Lanyard In­ formed her quietly; "but we'll not dis­ cuss that until we've rested up a bit" "I shall be only too glad--" she be­ gan, but broke off and, in a silence thai Beowcu aituGSt fore he heard his valediction faintly echoed. As he gained the tower floor the door was closed at the top of the stairs and its bolt shot home wfth a soft thud. When he turned to lock the tower one he stayed bis hand to transient inde­ cision. "Damn it!" he growled uneasily-- "there can't be any harm in that girt* Impossible for eyes like hers to He! And yet-- And! yet-- Oh, what's the matter with me? An» ? losing my grip? Why hesitate over ordinary precau­ tions against treachery on the part of a woman who's nothing to me and of whom I know nothing that isn't con­ spicuously questionable? AH becanse of a pretty face and an appeftHitg man­ ner!" So he locked that door, if very gent: ly, and having pocketed* the key and made a round of d'ocr» ami windows to examine their fastenings* he stumbled heavily into the bedroom ef fcis friend the artist. Darkness overwhelmed hiss then-- he was stricken down hgr sleep as an ox falls under the ax. CHAPTER X»V. Awakening^ % It was late afternoon when Lanyard wakened froca sleep so deep and dreamless that nothing could have in­ duced it less potent than sheer sys­ temic exhaustion, at 0see nervous, muscular and roental. A profound and stifling lethargy be­ numbed his senses. There was stu­ por in his brain and all his limbs ached apprehensive, dully He opened dazed eyes upon 'I DID NOT WANT PRESIDENCY s m fSNtctor 8Haw Telia How Her Eleetion |ss Hsad of Woman's Suffrage As- ... sociatlon Came About It is interesting, now that it Is ru- •acred that Doctor Shaw is to lay down the presidency of the National American Woman's Suffrage assocla- £on, to recall how unwilling she was li assume It In 1904. her recently published autobi-1 ography, "The Story of a Pioneer," she says.- "Miss Anthony Immediately urged me to accept the presidency of the National association, which I was now most unwilling to do. 1 had lost my ambition to be president, and there were other reasons, into which I need not go again, why I felt that 1 | could not accept the post "At last however, Miss 4ntlmty ao- tually commanded me to ttfke the place, and there was nothing to do but obey her. She was then eighty- four, and, as it proved, within two years(of her death, / "It was no time for me to rebel against her wishes, but I yielded with the heaviest heart I have ever car­ ried. and after my election to the presidency at the nationa conven­ tion in Washington, 1 left the stage, went Into a dark corner of the wings, and for the first time since my girl- hood 'cried myself sick. v V i eyed him speculatively throughout the remainder of the journey. It wasn't a long one, and in the course of the next ten minutes they drew up at the end of a shallow pocket of a street a scant half-block In depth. Alighting, Lanyard helped the girl out, paid and /dismissed the cocher, and blank darkness. In his ears sounded a vast silence. And in that strange moment of awak­ ening he was conscious of no Individ­ uality--It was, for the time, as if he had passed in slumber from one exist­ ence to another, sloughing In the transition all his threefold existence as Marcel Troyon, Micnael Lanyard and the Lone Wolf. Had any one of these names been uttered in his hoar ing just then it would have meant noth­ ing--he was merely himself, a shell of sensations inclosing dull embers of vi­ tality. „ For several minutes he lay without moving, curiously intrigued by this riddle of identity--it was but slowly that his mind, like a blind hand grop­ ing through the arr^s of a darkened chamber, picked up the filaments of memory. But one by one the connections were renewed, the circuits closed. Singularly enough, in his under­ standing, his first thought was of a girl--still, presumably,' asleep upstairs in the studio, unconsciously his pris­ oner and hostage. For he was no more as he had been. Wherein the difference lay he couldn't say, jbut that a difference existed he was [persuaded--that he had chaftged, that vsome strange reaction in the chemistry of his nature had taken place wjple he slept. It was as if sleep had not only repaired the ravages of fatigue upon the tissues of his brain and body, but had mended the tissues of his soul as well. His thoughts were fluent in fresh channels, his Interests no longer the Interests of the Michael Lanyard he had known, no longer self-centered, the interests of the absolute ego. He was concerned less for himself, even now, when he should be most concerned about himself, than for another, for the girl Lucia Bannon, who was noth lng to him, whom he had yet io know for twenty-four hours, but none the less a woman of whom he could not cease to think if he would. It was her situation that perturbed him, her predicament from which ha sought an outlet--never his own. Yet his own was desperate enough. Baffled and uneasy, he at length be­ thought him of his watch. But its tes­ timony seemed incredible--surely the hour could not be five In the after­ noon! Surely he could not have slept so close upon a full round of tha clockl And if it were so, what of the girl? Had / she, too, so sorely needed sleep that the brief November day had dawned and waned without her knowl­ edge? That question was one to agitate him; he was up in an instant and grop­ ing his way through the gloom* enshrouded bedchamber and dining room to the staircase door In the re­ ception hall. He found this fast enough, for its key was safe in his pocket, and, unlocking it quietly, he shot the beam of his lamp up that dark wall to the door at the top, which was tight shot For several moments he listened, but there was never a sound to indicate that he wasn't a lonely tenant of the little dwelling, then Irresolutely he lifted a foot to the first step--and withdrew it If she were still asleep, why disturb her? He had much to do in the way of thinking things out, and that was a process more easily per­ formed in solitude. ' Leaving the door ajar, he turned to one of the front windows, parted it* draperies, and peered out over the little garden and through the iron ribs of the gate, to the street, where a single gas lamp, glimmering within a dull, golden halo of mist made vis­ ible the scant length of the Impasse Stanislas, empty, rain-swept, desolate: Rain continued to fall with no hint of stopping. Something In the dreary emptiness of that brief vista deepened the shad* ow in his mood and knitted a careworn frown into his brows. Abstractedly he sought the kitchen and. making a light, washed up at the tap. then foraged for breakfast. H® put the kettle on to boil, and, lighting a eigarette, sat himself down beside the table to watch the pot and cogi­ tate over his several problems. In a fashion uncommonly clear­ headed, even for him, he assembled all the facts bearing upon their posi­ tion, his and Lucia Bannon's, and dis­ passionately pondered them. But Insensibly his thoughts reverted to the exotic phase of his awakening, driftfng into such introspection as hs seldom Indulged, and led him by strange ways lo a revelation alto­ gether unpresaged and a resolv« still more revolutionary. A look of wonder flickered in his broodfng eyes, and clipped between his two fingers, his cigarette grew a long ash. let ft fall, and burned down to a stump so short that the coal almost scorched his flesh. He dropped it and crushed out the fire with his heel quite unwittingly. gtjytirHr Twit irresistibly his world was turning over beneath his feet. The sound of a footfall recalled him as from an immeasurable remo»; he looked up to sea the girl at pause upon the threshold. He rose slowly, with effort recollecting himself and mar Bhaling his wits against the emergency ^foreshadowed bv her attitude. Tense with indignation, quick with -disdain, she demanded without any preface whatever: "Why did you lock me in?" He stammered unhappily: "I bag your pardon^-" "Why did you lock me in?** "I'm sorry--" But she interrupted him to stamp her foot emphatically, and he caught her up on the echo of that "If you must know, because I wasn't trusting you." Her eyes darkened ominously. "Yet you Insisted that I must trust you!" "The circumstances aren't parallel; you're not a notorious malefactor want* ed by the police of every capital ta Europe, hounded by rival* to boot-- flighting for life, liberty And"--he laughed shortly--"the pursuit ot hap* pines»!" _ > -w (TO BE CONTINUED. J Minute "Water Jitopediat Cheese as an Aid to Health The long cherished idea that cheeBe should form only a small part of the daily diet recently has been chal­ lenged. Not long ago the United States department of agriculture ts- sued a bulletin recommending .the use of cheese as a cheap and wholesome substitute for meat. Au interesting and Important asser­ tion by a Swiss investigator is to the effect that persons who make cheese ,W. diet are very resistant to mat*? in­ testinal diseases, such as dysentery and the dreaded typhus fever which has desolated Serbia. A wording to Doctor Burri, the daily meat ration in the Swiss army has already been partly replaced by cheese, with excel­ lent results. The Corporation of Trinity church. New York, owns 359 houses, the rent of Alabastine is the most effective, economical and simple wall decoration on the market. It has demonstrated its superiority in thirty-fire years use. : . Think of it! No boiling water, fto glue added. It's one of the easiest jobs in the world to prepare and apply Alabastine, and {he resulting surface, if ordinary care is taken, it solid, streakless and mat4ike. m The Moat Beaatifal Wall Tint And when you consider that yta obtain the most beautiful, mellow, nature colors, viz., soft buffs, delicate greens and exquisite blues, or anr thadt you wish by combining shades of Alabastine, then you'll know why Alabastine is one of the most popular wall decorations with millions of Painters and Householders, Decora­ tors and Womenfolk, who take a prids in their homes the wide world ovqt The Alabastine Co, 382 CruidrilU Rd. CnuMUUpMs. Be tare the ted era** and circle are oa each packace af Altbakine yoa bar. AtabaMine la aold by moat drugglm. karHw»re dealer* and paiat »toret everywhere If yoon Joel aot handle AUbactine. lake DO mbititute, write M. Tragedy. Friend--When is a joke not a JokeT Humorous--When you are depend­ ing on it to pay your laundry bill aw| some cruel editor turns It down. ^1" More than 25,000 girls have become members of canning clubs in the South. ^ No, Jane, it isn't the bad eggs thill produce tough chickens. 1? • Sii » Priest Needed No Assistance. Policeman McNulty, two blocks away, was told that a priest waa be­ ing beaten. When he arrived at the scene, he *found the information all wrong. Father McGrath had both men down. He was sitting on one and the other was pleading, "Please don't hit me again." The militant priest Is known as Fighting Father McGrath of the Seaman's mission in New York cj.y_ an(j he had resnued a sailor who had been attacked late at night by twe .v which mwintatna tha r.hur<»h thugs on the river frost •*' •"* ' , •'< . -1. \ * «A.,- * * ASK FOR AND GET SKINNER'S THE HIOHCST QUAUTY SPAGHETTI Save the trademark signature of Paul P. Skinner from all packages and exchange free for Oneida Community Silverware. Write today for free 36 pegs teqpe book and £uj| information. SKINNER MFG. CO., OMAHA. U.S.A* LARSEST MACARONI FACTORY IN AMERICA DOUBLE ECONOMY Low-pricmd-- DtmMm RENFREW DEVONSHIRE "KfCLOTH MJMCM. Save* Mather** time raj none? because the extra width nqaim 1«m yardage and seaming per car. ment -- and tt» lon«IUe MWI fWir labor worth while. Be*t for aR tab dethee. Made in white as ml a* eofera. Colors woven », not pel The geaime ha* XtifrwOnMuMn Ct*h stamped on the satvaoih Ion. RENFREW MPG.COl ALLEN'S FOOT-EASE The Antiseptic Powder to Shake Into Your Shoes ' and use in the Foot-Baih. Gives fastaat relief to tired, achiour, swollen, perspiriav, smarting, nervous feet, stops the stini OI corns and bunions. Head a few extracts from Ofio-i n a I gu Our office: "Allen's Foot--Ease worts like magic. Have placed some in tight shoes and feet feel fresh and comfortable." "It is one of the grandest remedies ever rniuje." "Allen's Foot--BAse has just pre­ vented me from throwing away a new pair of $5.00 shoes. It is great. Nothing so thoroughly rests *Ylht What*®1* ieet- ** iai.es the friction »A.™ "i from the shoe and makes watk- r«mi«rt",ne a delight We have 30.000 conn art testimonials. ,-iOver 100.000 packages are being used by Allied and German troops at the front. Sold everywhere, 25c. Oan't accept any sobstltaie. FB |* e TRIAL PACKAGE • * Si S3> •entbyin&U. Addrew, ALIjEN H. OI. MSTKII. l.e Hoy. 1*. Y, DA1TIITC Watson r B I E n i A P a t e n t L a w y e r , W a s h i n g t o n • •,™ • ** 1). C. Advtoe and books t raa> Bates reasonable. Highest references. Beatservice* NATIONAL OASOI.INK 1NV1GORATOK la- creaa-'S uitloage, reduces cost of gasoline, Ageal-* are mwkln* from $5 to SlO •> ^9 •riling National Gasoline Invlgoraior Write today. Nail, luvlaurmtur Co..CedarHapldejhk <&• W. H, U, CHICAGO* NO, MS