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r r •.A-;w;s^t^Xf^ "V V-;••>S'"i^r--:'T•':. '" • , , U*- * * ?-,*•*- ,, * . •» i * » - , * - • * , f «•. .,., *V t., •;••,.C:; • -V- ;>/ , : - » •.». - • ff i -- 'if .' -: f r v. i - J$L \ uw:.& "te# r . , .£>'.;• JL/Ulic> WOLF i !/*- r-X Jft {Copyright, by Louis Joseph Vancfc.) - y ™ - - v * - l » . *W.' T&'C'-rt wx&y,, - < ~ £. rfi_ * ""*^V», £;?' "V'^r l' * 'k"-% > - !*• •"*• ' J. -*'• :' 1 , " . • »*V. *•• '«* ,. *-" • ? * > . ' " . ' ,:£P , ... * -v^.; -:^mx-£ J*? ** • •» (i -; .- t< • i/5« ^ r-i - " " t '» " * «/ 4 ;***\ V • >: • . , &. * * \ .>*.- . - - - SYNOPSIS. . * ft • AfteT stealing the Omber jewels and the Huysrnan war plans In London Michael I^anyard returns to Troyon's, a Paris inn, for the first time in many years because h« thinks Roodv. a Scotland Yard man. Is on his trail. At dinner a conversation " between Comt« de Morblhan. M. Banjion *n<3 Mile, Bannon about the Lone Wolf, » celebrated piackeman who works alone, alarm* b.lni. Lanyard dresse* and ftoes out, leaving Roddy snoririg in the next room, then comf»» hack stealthily, to find In his room Mile. Bannon. In the apart­ ment near the Trocadero he finds an in­ vitation from The Pack to the Lone Wolf to Join th^m Lanyard attempts to dis- tKMe of the Otnber Jewels, but finds that The rack has forbidden the buyers to deal wltri him- He meets three masked members of The Pack: Popinot. apache; and Werthelmer, English mobsman, but' the third, an American. Is unknown to !ilm. He refuse* fcllianee with them. On lis return to his room he is attacked in the dark, but knocks out hla assailant. He gives the unconscious man. who proves to be the mysterious American, a hypo- , dermic to keep him quiet, 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 the 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. Having no money Lucia is obliged to take refuge with Lanyard In the studio of an absent artist friend of his. He locks her In a room alone and retires to get some rest himself. After sleep Lanyard finds his viewpoint changed. He tella Lucia Who he is. Mutual confessions follow. Bhe Is Lucy Shannon, not Bannon, and has be°n uced as a tool by Bannon. the crook. The American murderer of Roddy was Bannon's secretary. Lucy agrees to SO ^lth him tc return the London loot. '>•*1 u . S-'-.-r CHAPTER XVI--Continued. -- • **l di afraid." Lanyard said after a time--"I'm afraid I know what you must be thinking. One can't do your Intelligence the injustice to Imagine you haven't understood me--read all that was in my mind and"--his voice fell--"in my heart. I own that I was ' '* * "i j K* . .jar: »'i- • '• • • "wrong to speak BO transparently, to suggest my regard for you at such a time., under such conditions. I am truly sorry, and beg you to consider unsaid all that I should not have said. After all, what earthly difference can ft make to youfjif one thief more de­ cides suddenly to reform?" That brought her abruptly to her feet, showing him a face of glowing loveliness, with eyes distractingly dimmed and softened. "No!" she Implored breathlessly. "Please, you-mustn't spoil It! You've . $ald me the finest of compliments, and ,,;:*>ne I'm glad and grateful for--and I might think I deserved! You isay you need a year to prove yourself? *Then--I've no right to say this--and ;you must please not ask me what I inean--then 1 grant you that year. A year I shall wait to hear from you from the day we part, here in Paris. y a And tonight I will go with you, too, & * • *nd gladly, since you wish me to!" fe?*' And then as he, having risen, stood 'f' JL.. pt loss, thrilled and incredulous, with It , m brave and generous gesture she of- * r C *erec' ^er band, across the table ^ e ? t* thereon still rested the spoils of his "Mr. Lanyard. 1 promise.** Then reverently he bowed his head £ i * |ind touched his lips to that hand--and k*s/ ^ snatched swiftly away, and start- t|V back, aghast, the idyl rougbiy dissi- «8#5/^»^®Bted, the castle of his dreams turn*. '4- Y ©ling in thunders round hi6 ear*. . In the studio skylight overhead a pane Of glass had fallen in with a shat- tering crash as oipinous as the trump 'fX- of doom. <t k? - V CHAPTER XVII. "For That's Impossible." Like a blow from an unseen hand the shock of that alarm drove the girl back from the table to the nearest wall and for a moment held her there trans­ fixed In panic. f To her wide, staring eyes that ques­ tioned his so urgently Lanyard prompt­ ly nodded grave reassurance. He hadn't stirred after his first involun­ tary start, and before the last frag­ ment of splintered glass had fallen tinkling to the floor above, he was calming her in the most matter-of-fact tones. "Don't be alarmed," he said. "It's nothing--merely Solon's skylight gone smash!" "But call that nothing!" she cried gustily. "What caused it, then?" "My negligence," he admitted gloom­ ily. "1 might have known it--that -wide spread of glass, with the studio | electrics full ablaze below, would give p 1 the sbpw away completely.. The house yh, !s known to be unoccupied, and it wasn't to be expected that both the v:?!% police and Popiriot's crew would over- ^ \ loofc 80 shining a mark. And it's all §*J;: tny fault, my oversight. 1 should have *>;_warned you about the lights! High ', > time I was quitting a game I've no longer the wit to play by the rules!" "But the police would never--" ••Certainly not. This is merely Popl- not's gentle method of informing us he's on the Job. But I'll just have a look to make sure. No--stop where you are, please. I'd rather go alone." He swung alertly through to the re­ ception hall window, pausing there only long enough for an instantaneous Reconnaissance through the draperies --Hi fugitive survey that discovered the ilmpasse Stanislas no more abandoned to the wind and rain, but tenanted visibly by one. at least, who lounged <beneath the lonely lamp-post, a shoul der against it--a featureless^tyviimn silbouetie with attentiou H« on the little bouse. *' t But .LAuymrd dir^n * doubt that this ̂ *'* * _ _ . ; Ya { £ . ' 1 4 \ -' 'J* ose had (t dozen fellows skulking with­ in call. ' Springing up the stairs, he paused prudently at the topmost step, one quick glance showing him the huge rent gaping black in the middle of the skylight, the second the missile of de­ struction lying amid a litter of broken glass--a brick wrapped in newspaper by the look of It. Swooping forward, he retrieved this and darted back from the exposed space beneath the shattered skylight barely in the nick of time, for he had no more than . cleared the threshold than a second something fell through the gap and buried itself in the hard­ wood parquetry. This last was a; bul­ let fired from the roof of one of the adjoining buildings, confirming his prior reasoning that the first missile must have fallen from a heif^t rather than have been thrown up from the street to wreak such destruction with those tough, thick panes of clouded glass. Swearing softly to himself, he de­ scended to the kitchen. « "As I thought," he said coolly, ex­ hibiting his find. "They're on the roof of the next house--though they've sta­ tioned a sentry in the street, of course." * "But that second thump--" the girl demanded. \ "A bullet," he answered, placing the bundle on the table and cutting the string that bound it. "But what are we to do now?" she stammered. "If they've surrounded the house--" "Don't worry--there's more than one, way out," he responded, frowning at the newspaper; "1 wouldn't have picked this place out otherwise. Nor would Solon have rented it in the first instance had it lacked an exit in event of creditors. Ah--thought so!" "What--" "Troyon's Is gone," he said, ^without looking up. "This is tonight's Presse. totally destroyed by fire which start­ ed at six thirty this morning and in less than half an hour had reduced the ancient structure to a heap of smoking ashes'!" He ran his eye quickly down the column, selecting salient phrases: " 'Believed to have been of incendiary origin, though the premises were unin­ sured'--that's an intelligent guess! 'Narrow escuye of guests in their'-- whatyemayHaiteni8. "Three lives be­ lieved to have been lost--one body re­ covered, charred almost beyond recog­ nition'--Roddy's, of course--poor devil! Two guests missing, M. Lan­ yard, tile well-known connoisseur of art, who occupied the room adjoining that of the unfortunate detective, and Mile. Bannon, daughter of the Ameri­ can millionaire, who himself escaped only by a miragle with his secretary, M. Greggs, the latter being overcome by fumes'--what a shame! 'Police and tfiremen searching the ruins"--h-m, h-m--'extraordinary interest manifest­ ed by the prefecture indicates a suspi­ cion that the building may have been fired to conceal some crime of a po­ litical nature.'^" Crushing the newspaper between his hands Lanyard tossed It into a corner "What was written on the paper?" the girl demanded obliquely. He made his eyes blank. "Written on the paper--" "I saw something in red ink at the head of the column. You tried to bide it from me, but I saw. What was it?" "Oh--that!" He laughed contemptu­ ously. "Just Popinot's impudence--an Invitation to come out and be a good target." He shrugged himself Into his bor­ rowed raincoat, buttoned it to his chin, and turned down the brim of bis soft felt hat; but when he looked up at the girl again he found she hadn't moved; rather, she remained as one spellbound by thought, staring less at than through him, her expression Inscruta­ ble. "Well." he ventured--"if you're quite ready. Miss Shannon--" "Mr. Lanyard." she demanded al­ most sharply, "what was the full word­ ing of that message?" "If you must know--" "I must!" He lifted a depreciative lihoulder. "If you like. I'll read it to you--or, rather translate It from the thieves' argot Popinot complimented me by using." "Not necessary," she sold tersely. "I'll take your word for it. But you must tell me the truth." "As you will. Popinot delicately suggested that if 1 leave you here, to be' reunited to your alleged parent-- if I'll tr-uBt to his word of honor, that is, and walk out of the bouse alone, he'll give me twenty-four hours in which to leave Paris." 8 "Then only 1 stand between you and--" "My dear young woman!" he pro­ tested hastily. "Please don't run away with any absurd notion like that. Do you imagine Vd consent to treat with such canaille under any circum­ stances ?' "All the 6ame," she contended stub­ bornly, "I'm the stumbling-block. You're risking your life for me--" "Weil." be laughed. -»"have It your own way! Hut its my life, isn't it? I really don't see how you're going to prevent my risking it for anything that may s«en> to But Bhe wouldn't laugh; only her countenance, suddenly bereft of its mu­ tinous expression, softened winningly ---arid her eyed grew very kind to him. "As long as it's Understood I under­ stand--very well," she said quietly. "I'll do as you wish, Mr. Lanyard." "Good!" he cried cheerfully. "I wish, by your leave, to take you out to din- tier. This way, please!" Leading her through the scullery, he unbarred and swung open a low. arched door in one of the walls, uncov­ ering the black mouth of a narrow and tunnel-like passageway that ran off at right angles from the side of the house. // . With a word of caution, fiash lamp in his left hand, pistol in right. Lanyard stepped out into the darkness. In two minutes he was back with a look of relief. "All clear," he reported; "I felt pretty sure Popinot was ignorant, of this emergency exit--else we'd have entertained uninvited guests long since. Now, haflf a minute." The electric meter occupied a place on *be r/all of the scullery not far from the door. Pyying open its cover, he unscrewed ana\ removed the fuse-plug, plunging the entire bouse in complete darkness. 4|| "That'll keep 'em^^ueasing a while!" he explained with a chuckle. "They'll bo cm that, when tne bill had been paid and the essential tips bestowed, there would remain rn his pocket little more than cab fare. Supremely self- confident, be harbored no doubts of a smiling future--now that the dark pages in his record had been turned and sealed by a resolution he held Ir­ revocable. His spirits had mounted to a high pitch. thjinVa • a ±h?<r (•ruv'iMRfiil inva­ sion. He was young, he was in love, he was hungry, he was--in short--very much alive. And the consciousness of common peril knitted an enchanting intimacy into their talk. » For the first time in his history Lan­ yard found himself in the company of a woman to whom he dared--and cared--to speak without reserve--a circumstance intrinsically intoxicating. And stimulated by her uqquestlonaolt interest and sympathy, he did talk without reserve--of old Troyon's and Its drudge Marcel, of Bourke und his wanderings, of the education of the Lone Wolf and his career, less in pride than in relief that it was ended, of the future he must achieve for himeelt And, sitting with chin cradled on the backs of her interlaced fingers, the girl listened with such indulgshce as women find always for their lovers. Of herself she had little to say. Lanyard filled in to his taste the outlines of the simple history of the young wom­ an of good family obliged to become self-supporting. And if at times her grave eyes clouded and her attention wandered, it was iess in ennui than because of occult trains of thought set in motion by some chance word or phrase of Lanyard's. "I'm boring you," he suggested once with quick contrition, waking up to' the fact that he'd monopolized the conver­ sation for many minutes on end. She shook a pensive head. "No, again. But, I wonder, do you appreci­ ate the magnitude of the task you've set yourself?" "Possibly uot," he conceded arro­ gantly; "but It doesn't matter. The heavier the odds, the greater the In­ centive to win." "I do believe that, and yet--" She lowered her head and began to trace a meaningless pattern on the doth be­ fore she resumed. "You've given me to understand that I'm responsible for your sudden awakening--that It's be­ cause of a regard conceived tor me you're so anxious to become an honest man. Suppose--suppose you were to find out--you'd been mistaken in ine?" "That isn't possible," he objected promptly. She smiled upon him wistfully. "But if it were--" "Then--I think," he said soberly--"! think Id' feel as though there were nothing but emptitfess beneath my feet!" "If you fqund I had deceived yoii--" "Miss Shannon!" He threw an arm across the table and suddenly impris­ oned her hand. "There's no i<se beat­ ing about the bush. You'vs got to know--" , - She drew back suddenly with a \ V : (• £':aidSu*/i ^ V . • . • . Held Her There Transfixed in Panic. hesitlte a long time before rushing a dark house infested by a desperate armed man--if 1 know anything about that mongrel crew! Besides, when they do get their courage upk the lack of light will stave off discovery of this way of escape. And now, one word more." A flash of tile lamp located her hand. Calmly he possessed himself of it. "I've brought you into trouble enough as it is through my stupidity." he said; "but for that, this place should have been a refuge to us until we were quite ready to leave Paris. So now we mustn't forget, before we go out to run God only knows what gauntlet, to fix a rendezvous in event of separation. I can think of none better suited to our purposes than the Sacre-Coeur." Her fingers tightened gently upon his. "I understand," she said quietly; "If we're obliged to separate I'm to go di­ rect to the Sacre-Coeur up on the hill­ top and await you there." "Right! But let's hope there'll be no such necessity." Then, hand in hand, like frightened children, these two stole down the tun­ nel-like passageway, through a small, forlorn court, more like a well, cramped between two tall old tene­ ments, and so came out into 'the gloomy, sinuous and silent Rue d'As- sas. Here they encountered few way­ farers; and to tbobe few, preoccupied with anxiety to win to shelter from the inclement night, they seemed, no doubt, some student of the Quartier with his sweetheart--Lanyard, in his shabby raincoat, striding rapidly, head and shoulders bowed against the driv ing mist, the girl in her trim Burberry clinging trustfully to his arm. Avoiding the nearer stops of the underground Metropolitan as danger­ ous. Lanyard steered a roundabout course through byways to the Rue de Sevres station of the Nord-Sud. from which, in due course, they climbed to the surface again at the Place de la Concorde, walked several blocks, picked up a taxlcab, and in less than half an hour from the time of their de- partut-o from the impasse Stanislas were comfortably ensconced in a cabi net particulier of a little restaurant of modest pretensions Just north of Les Halles. They feasted famously^t^e cuisine If bourgeoise. was admirable and. bet­ ter still, well within the resources of Lanyard's emaciated purse. Nor did 1 i * . < ' • * * ^ ' Lanyard 8tepped Out* Into the Dlfk- nets. frightened look and a monosyllable of sharp remoiistiance: "No!" "But you must listen to me. I want you to understand. Bourke used to say to me: 'The man who lets love into his life opens a door no mortal hand can close--and God only knows what will follow in!' And Bourke was right. Now that door Is open in my heart, and I think that whatever follows in won't be evil or degrading. Oh. I've said It a dozen different ways of indirection, but I may as well say it squarely now. I love you; it's love of you makes me want to gg straight, in the hope that when I've proved myself you'll maybe let me ask you to marry me. "Perhaps you're in love with a bet­ ter man today; but I'm willing to chance that; a year brings many changes, Perhaps there's something 1 don't fathom in your doubting my strength and constancy. Only the out- come can declare that. But please'un- dsr«tand this: If 1 fall to make good it will be solely because I'm unnt ami have proved it. All 1 ask Is what you've generously promised me--op; portunity to come to you at the end of the year and make my report. And then, if you will, you can say no to the question I'll ask you, and 1 sha n't resent it, and it won't ruin me; for If a man can stick to a purpose for a year he can stick to it forever, with or without the love of the wotpan he loves." ^ ' She beard him out without attempt at interruption, but her answer was prefaced by a sad little shake of her head. - * "That's what makes it so hard, so terribly hard," she said. "Of course I've understood you--all that you've said by indirection, and much besides, has bad its meaning to me--and I'm glad and prOud, of the honor you off™ me. But 1 cau't accept it. I can never accept it--uot now nor a year from *v. now. Ana it tsnt fair to let you go on hoping that 1 might some time consent to marry you. For that's impossible " "You--forgive nm--you'ra ^ot al­ ready married?" r "No." "Or promtsedf "No." "Or in love with Again she told him, gently, "No." His face cleared. He squared his shoulders. He even mustered up a smile. "Then It isn't Impossible. No human obstacle exists that time can't over­ throw. in spite of all you say, I shall go on hoping with all my heart and soul and strength." "But you don't understand--" ' "Can you tell me--make me under­ stand ?" After a long pause she told him onc^ mor* and very sadly: "No." . . t. . CHAPTER XVIII. jfe;, I % .-thaar Impulaneo. ' ' { L Though it was not yerr «ight o'clock when they entered the reetaurant, it was something after eleven before Lanyard called for his bill. Now again the rain had ceased -aid, though the sky remained overcast, atmosphere was clear and brisk with,# touch of frost, in grateful contrast to the dull and muggy air that had ob­ tained for the last twenty-four hours. "We'll Walk," Lanyard suggested-- "if you don't mind--part of the way at least; it'll eat up time, and a bit, of ex­ ercise will do us both good." ;' The girl assented quietly. The drum of their heels on tast^dry- lng sidewalks struck sharp echoes from the silence of that drowsy quar­ ter, a lonely clamor that rendered It impossible to ignore their apparent solitude--as impossible as it was for Lanyard to ignore the fact that they were followed. Supremely on the alert, he had dis­ covered the pursuit before they left the block of the restaurant. Dissem­ bling, partly to avoid alarming the girl, pnrtfry to trick the follower into a feeling of greater security, he turned this way and that, round several cor­ ners, until quite convinced that the shadow was dedicated to himself ex­ clusively, then promptly revised his prior purpose and. Instead of sticking to darker backways, struck out direct­ ly for the broad, well-lighted, and live­ ly Boulevard Sebastopol. Crossing this without another back­ ward glance, he turned north, seeking some cafe whose arrangements suited his designs; and, presently, though not before their tramp had brought them almost to the line of the Grand boule­ vards, found one to his taste, a cheer­ ful and well-lighted establishment situ­ ated upon a corner, with entF&negft from both streets. A hedge of forlorn fir trees knee-deep in wooden tubs guarded 'ts collection of round, metal tables and spindle-shanked chairs, of which few were pccupied. Inside, vis­ ible through the wide plate-glass win­ dows, perhaps a dozen patrons sat round half as many t&bles--no more-- idling o-rer dominoes and gossip-- steady-paced burghers with their wives, men in small ways of business in the neighborhood. Entering to this company. Lanyard selected a square, marble-topped table against the back wall, entrenched him­ self with the girl upon the plush-up­ holstered seat behind it, ordered cof­ fee and writing materials, and proceed­ ed to light a cigarette with the non­ chalance of one to whom time is of no consequence. "What Is it?" the girl asked guard­ edly, as the waiter scurried off to exe­ cute his commands. "You've not stopped In here for nothing!" "True--but lower, please!" he "You've Got to Know--" begged. "If we speak English loud enough to be J^eard it will attract at­ tention. The trouble Is, we're followed. But as yet our faithful shadow doesn't know we know it--unless he's more in­ telligent tlian he seems. Consequent­ ly, if I don't misjudge him, he'll take a table outside, the better to keep an eye on us, as soon as be sees we're ap­ parently settled for some time. More ihan thai. I've got a note te write--and not merely as a subterfuge. This fel­ low must be shaken off, and as long as we stick together that can't very well' be done." He Interrupted himself while the waiter served them, then sugared bis coffee, arranged the ink bottle and pa­ per to his satisfaction, and bent over his pen. "Come closer." he requested--"as if you were interested In what I'm writ­ ing--and amused; if you can laugh a bit at nothing, so much the better. But keep a sharp eye on the windows. You can do that more readily than I tinder cover of the brim of your hat. And let me know what you see." He had no more than settled ihto the swlog of composition than the girl--apparently following his pen w!th closest attention--giggled coquet tishly and nudged his elbow. "The window to the right of tie door we came m," eft* mvrainred. suit­ ing delightedly; "he's standing behind the fir trees, staring In." "Can you make him out?" Lanyard asked without moving his lips. "No more than that he's tall." she aald with every indication of enjoying a most tremendous joke. "His face la all in shadow." "Patience!" counseled the adven­ turer. "He'll take heart of courage when convinced of our innocence." He poised his pen, scrutinized the ceiling for inspiration, and permitted a slow smile to irradiate his features. "You'll take this note, if you please," he said cheerfully, "to the address on the envelope, by taxi--It's some dis­ tance, neai; the Etoile. A long chance, but one we must risk; give half an hour alone, and I guarantee te discour­ age this animal one way or another. You understand?" * "Perfectly!" she laughed archly. He bent over and lor a few mo­ ments wrote busily. "Now he's wajking slowly round the corner, never taking his eyes from you," the girl reported, shoulder to' shoulder and head distractingly near his head. "Good. Can yon see him any bet­ ter?" ' • : ,.J ' "Not. yet." •: ;TV • 7^' "This note/V fce said, without atop- ping bis pen or appearing to say any­ thing, "Is for the concierge of a build­ ing where I rent stabling for a little, closed car I find occasionally useful. I'm supposed there to be a chauffeur in the employ of a crazy Englishman who keeps me constantly traveling with him back and forth between Paris and London. That's to account for the irregularity with which I use the car. They know me, monsieur and madame of the conclergerte. as Pierre Lamier; and I think they're safe--not "only trustworthy and of friendly dis* position, but-4uite simple-minded; I don't believe they gossip much. If so, the chances are De Morblhan and his gang know nothing of the arrangement. But that's all speculation--a forlorn hope!" "1 understand," the girl chuckled at his elbow. "He's still prowling up and down outside the hedge." "We're not going to need that car to­ night; but the home of Mme. Omber is close by; and I'll follow and Join you there within an hour at most. Mean­ time, this note will introduce you to the concierge and his wife--I hope yon won't mind--as my flanoee. I'm telling them we became engaged in England, and I've brought you to Paris to visit my mother in Montrouge, but am de­ tained by my employer's business, and will they please give you shelter for an hour." "He's coming in," .the girl announced quietly. "In here?" "No--merely Inside the row of lKtls trees." "Which entrance?" "On the boulevard side. He's taken the corner table. Now a waiter's go* Ing out to him." 'fi "You can see his face now?" yard asked, sealing the note. "Not well." "It won't be Popinot," Lanyard re­ flected, addressing the envelope; "he's tubby." "This man Is tall and slender." "Wertheimer, possibly. Does ho sug­ gest an Englishman In any way?" "Not in the least. He wears a mus­ tache--blond--twisted up like the kaiser's." Lanyard made no reply, bat his heart sank, and he shivered Impel* ceptibly with foreboding. He enter tained no doubt but that the worst had happened, that to the number of hia enemies in Paris was added Ekstrom. One furtive glance confirmed this inference. He swore bitterly, If pri­ vately, and with a countenance ol childlike blandness, as he sipped th« coffee and finished bis cigarette. '^Who is it, then?" she asked. "Do you7 know him?" He reckoned swiftly against distress ing her, recalling his mention of the fact that Ekstrom was credited with the Huysman murder. "Merely a hanger-on of De Morbl- han's," he told her lightly; "a spine­ less animal--no trouble about scaring him off. Here--take this note, please; we'll go now. But as we reach fhs door, turn back--and go out the other. You'll find a taxi without trouble. And stop for nothing!" (TO BR CONTINUED.) WANTS DAMAGES FOR BITES Employee of Minneapolie Library Brings 8ult in a Case That Ea- tabliahea a Precedent. Bitten by a : -an he ejected frohi the branch public library at the Gat* way. Jack Smith, employed at the branch, demands damages from the city under the worklngman's * com­ pensation act. Jerome Jackman of the city legal department said Smith's claim was the most unusual that had come to bis notice. "A drunken man entered the li­ brary." said Mr. Jackman. "Mr; Smith started to usher him out. The fellow struggled and finally bit Mr. Smith's right hand, causing deep lacerations on the thumb and index finger. H« has had the wound dressed four times by a physician and it seems slow to heal." ---- Mr. Jackman gave the opinion that Smith probe'oly is entitled to com­ pensation for loss of time and for medical attention.--Minneapolis Jour- QUESTION OF FINANCE - ' i' MORE WAYS THAN ONE OP QKlV •* CH*°K ,.£v Beware of Paraffin" Cupe. When an Englishman drinks a total to his queen, be breaks the glass as a pretty little hom&ge. Girard writes U the Philadelphia Ledger. t When you put a penny in the slot And extract an Individual cup you snould smash it after using it Thti isn't homage, but a precaution ths* may save a human life. , Do you know what bappena U many of those discarded paraffin drink- il*g cups? Picked up by careless poo pie and used over and over again. If you will recall that a dead!} germ feels even less at home on a glass cup than upon one made o paraffin you can easily see why neithoi should be used many times by maar persons . There la one c«"ta»n way ft* outWt toe germ: Crush the cit*. Proof That There is Always, to tl||>v Ingenious, a Possibility df Getting ;:.4p|wid the Soui-Chllling Bitot f ^ "Insufficient Funds." ; ..f • ---- - He was in high spirits as he strolle# ' whistling down Central Park West. It was spring; his health was gooifc v, *j t h e sun s was sh in ing b r igh t l y , t hO i birds in the park were twittering me*» V.J, rily, and in a poker session the night ' a before he had won $276, of which $71 ' - was in cash. In an inside pocket * ? check for $200, the balance of his will* ^ nings, nestled against his heart. ; It was great to be alive anyway, an & ** wasn't it fine that he had yielded' W " S his wife's pleas to be allowed to hup^' n those spring clothes! The bills foir v the clothes had been coming in for ft . week now and had Worried him some*. what, but now, with $276 he had' not/ ^ expected to get and the money he aK k;* T-eady had, he would be able to pay ^ them without difficulty. His wife do-/' served all the spring clothes he couii , * buy her. But wasn't. It lucky that had drawn that fourth jack againsjj^v:4'f that ace full the night before? He reached the bank on which thf- i^} $200 check had been drawn and blithely swung through the doors. In-. ! dorsed the paper and presented it at the paying teller's window. There was a pause while the teller got busy with his books. In a moment he was back at the window: 'Insufficient funds," he Bald. The sun was obscured behind black clouds, the birds in the park were squawking horribly, forgotten pains began to remind our hero of their existence. If the maker of the check was tho kind of man who would give an N. G. check to pay a poker loss, he was surely not the kind of man who would make good later, thought the holder of the worthless paper. Then he had an . Idea. He asked the teller how much the check's maker had on deposit, but the teller refused to inform him; say­ ing it was against the rules. Over On a park bench our hero pon­ dered his problem. At length he reach­ ed a solution. / The check's make# was in the the­ atrical business. Our hero visited a press agent of his acquaintance and got a couple of complimentary tickets. Then he visited the bank again. Prom the special guard he learned the pay- ing teller's name. Then he wrote a note to the paying teller, enclosing the theater tickets, and to it he signed the name of the maker of the check. He sent the note and tickets by special messengra to the teller. Then after waiting half an hour ho called up the bank and'asked to talk to the teller. When he was connected he gave the name of the maker of the check, talked pleasantly for a mo­ ment about the theater tickets he had just sent,, and then asked how large his balance was. The teller, glad to do the favor to one who had just sent him two theater tickets, answered. a "One hundred and forty-three dol­ lars," he said. Our hero after a comment or two hung up the receiver N$d walked straight around to the bank. Here he questioned the receiving teller to make sure there would be no slip In his plan. "Can I deposit money to another man's account?" he asked. "Certainly," said the receiving tell­ er. "We're always glad to get money from everybody." Our hero then made out a deposit slip for $60, under the name of tho maker of the check, and shoved the slip and $60 through the receiving teller's window. Then he walked to the paying teller with his $200 check. "I'd like cash for this," he said. The paying teller looked at tho check and repeated his "Insufficient funds,"our hero said loftily: "Pardon, but a deposit which makes the check good was Just received." The paying teller looked it up and found this to be correct, so there was nothing left for him ^ Pfty out the money. At a: cost of $60 our hero had made a bad check for $200 good. Again was the sun shining and again were the birds twittering.--New York Times. His Glass Eye in Pain. A very peculiar accident happened to O. R. McColley. While walking with one of his customers, James L. Boyd, he suddenly threw his hands to one of his eyes which he had had re­ placed with a glass one. He exclaimed in great pain that something had hit him in the eye. He was nearly frantic for some time, when Doctor Cogswell was summoned %nd the patient was removed to his office After the pain was relieved the eye was removed, and it was discovered the back of the glass eyeball had broken and the vacuum from the hol­ low Inside had drawn the optic nerve through the broken part, which caused intenso pain. • The Inside part of the eye is badly inflamed and it will necessitate tho placing oi a new glass eye a as it has healed sufficiently.--From Wolsey (S. Dak.) Dispatch. * Mice Help to Catch Other A little device ha* just been patent­ ed which transforms any standard pre­ serving jar into a mouse trap. The trap? which kill the little rodents lose their usefulness after a time by rea­ son of the fact that the odor left by the deceased vermin acts as a warn­ ing to the acute noses of others, so that to be of use the tray must scalded or otherwise fumigated at reg­ ular intervals. The preservingjai^ mouse trap does not hold any odor, and, being of glass, It catches an un­ limited number of mice, one after the other. The bait will catch the firs% mouse, and after that the newcomers;' seeing their fellow inside, will prompted by curiosity to follow, and a*t each one enters the trap entrance 14 automatically set for tlM next op*.; "f ';V W' ^ T * \ ' ± r * m .