al a Here at Mist in the Channel ; OR, THE MYSTERY OF THE " TARIFA'S " CARGO CHAPTER VIII.--(Cont'd) Mirayda could not repress an ex- clamation. She had no doubt that Wilbraham was right; the theory fitted in with Ralph's eivedbuans character. M. Fournier no doubt made the arrangements, and pro- vided 'the capital; Ralph worked the cargo across from ngland to Morocco. And to make it safe for himself to ventu.e upon English soil, he had altered the rig of the Tarifa in some unfrequented port, end somehow arranged the decep- tion concerning his death. "You: ink as I thought in Rose- vear," 'said Wilbraham, penne shrewdly into her face. "I only wish you could participate in the delight I felt. I had my fingers on the secret now, and it was such a perfect, profitable secret, for, quite apart from the other affair, gun- running in Morocco is itself an of- fence against the I fairly hugged myself. 'Ambrose,' said I, 'never in all your puff have you struck anything like this. Fouche you shall trample under foot and Sherlock Holmes shall be your washpot; you are the best in the world. The faceless mariner was a fraud, a freak from Barnum's. last is Eldorado, and there's no fly anywhere upon the gilding.' Thus, Mrs. Warriner, I soliloquised, and took the next boat back to Penzance; from Pen- zance I travelled by train to Ply- mouth; from Plymouth [ sailed in an Orient boat to Gib, and from ' Gib I crossed to Tangier, where _ tion on al I had a few minutes' conversation with one or two officers of the cus- tom-house. "'Morocco as a social institution has many points of convenience which it is useful for men like War- riner and myself to know. Here's a small case in point. If you wish to smuggle forbidden goods into the country, you hire the custom-house 'officials to unload your cargo for you at night somewhere on the beach. Thus you avoid much trou- ble, all chance of detection, and you secure skilled workmen. I ha no doubt that Warriner ha<i follow- ed this course. So I hired the cus- tom-house officials to tell me the truth, and out it came. The Tari- fa had landed its cargo in the bay a mile and a half from Tangier a couple of days before I arrived, and M. Fournier had supervised the unloading, and the captain of the Tarifa was no longer the grizzled sea-dog, r. Thomas Discipline, but a gentleman of a slight figure, blue eyes, and fair hair. That middle-aged cherub, in a word, with whom you and I are familiar and who now calls himself Mr. Jeremy Bentham. When I had de- rived this information I walked in- to M. Fournier's shop and bought e stuffed jackal. There was a tour- fat making purchases, so I asked my question quietly as I leaned my elbows on counter. "'How did you work the situa- Rosevear?' said I, 'and sow's my sweet friend, Ralph War- tiner 7' "The little Frenchman turned white and sick. He babbled expos- lations and denials. He demand- him your card, I " interrupted Miranda, biting Wilbraham gazed at her with adiriration. "Well, you have got some spirit. I will say that for you, Mrs. Warriner."' "TI am not in need als," said Miranda. Fournier?' "He talked to me mysteriés after that. 'You were in Tangier a month ago,' said he. 'You shout- _ed_ "Look-out+-throngh the door; you startled a friend of mine; you are a coward.' Would you believe it, the little worm turned ? flew into a violent passion; I sup- pose it was in just'sueh a passion that he flung himself on Zebédee Igaacs at Scilly. A plucky little man for all his cowardice! He called me a number of ill names. However, I had gut what I wanted. I ee back to Gibraltar, and her am." Wilbraham crossed his legs, and with a polite "You will permit me?' lighted a cigarette. "T see," said Miranda, with a contemptuous droop of her lips. "Having, failed to blackmail M. Fournier.ang my husband, you fall = back upon blackmailing a woman.' ilbraham's answer to the sneer \e entirely unexpected, even by randa, who was prepared for the unexpected in this man. He showed no shame;-he did nut try to laugh sway the. slur; but removin*>his of testimoni- '"'What.of M. e er om) his mouth, he turned iberste yoice face to-her and | fee}. 'aid: "I do let, on these matters. And all other things being equal had I to choose between a man and a woman, I should spare the man and strike e woman He spoke without any bitterness, but in a hard, calm voice, as though he had sounded the ques- tion to the bottom. Miranda gasp- ed, the words fur a second took her breath away, and then the blood came warmly into her cheeks, and her eyes softened and brightened and she smiled. A sudden glory seemed to illuminate her face. Wil- braham wondered why. He could not know that the brutal shock of his speech had sent her thoughts winging back to a baicony overlook- ing St. James's Park, where a man had held a torn glove in his hand and in a no less decided voice than Wilbraham's had spoken quite other words. "T never intended to address ei- ther Fournier or your husband up- on the subject of--shall we call it compensation? At the best I should have. got a lump sum now and again from them, and as I say, I have learnt my lesson. If I had a lump sum, it would be spent, and I should again be penniless. I ap- ply to you because I propose a re- gular sum si annum paid quar- terly in advan Miranda was still uplifted by the contrast between her recoliections and Wilbraham's words. She had the glove at home locked up, an evidence that succor was very near --a hundred miles only down the winding valley which faced her-- and sho had not even to say a word in order to command it. When she spoke again to Wilbraham she spoke emboldened by this knowledge. '"'And what if I were to refuse you even a shilling: for your din- ner?"' "IT should be compelled to lay my information before the proper authorities, that Ralph Warriner is alive and may at times be cap- tured in England.' "Would you be surprised to hear that Mr. Warriner committed no crime for which he could be cap- tured ?"' "I should be surprised beyond words. Mr. Warriner sold the mechanism of the Deventry gun to a foreign government.' "Are you so sure of that?' "T was his agent. ~ "You! Then you are also his ac- complice." "True,--and I jook forward to turning Queen's evidence. Miranda withdrew from the con- test. The discussion was hardly more than academic, for she knew both that her nusband was alive and that this particular crime he had committed. 'What is your price ?" she asked, and she sat down upon the. bench. Wilbraham did not immediately reply. He took a pocket-book from his coat and a letter from his pock- et-book. "JT should wish you to fully un- derstand the strength of my po- sition," he said. "This letter you will see is in your husband' s hand- writing. This passage," and he folded the letter to show Miranda a line or two, "enjoins me to very careful about the plans. The gun is not mentioned by name, but the date of the letter and the con- text leave no possible doubt.' He fluttered, the letter under Mi- randa's cyes and within reach of her fingers. "It is my piece of evidence, but a convincing piece." He made a pretence of 'dropping it at her feet ana snatched it up quickly. Then he replaced it in his pocket-book with a sna "Why didn't you anetth at it?' he exclaimed with irritation. "Why did you wish me to snatch at it?"? she Treplicu. ' "Because--because," he said angrily, "you have made me feel mean, aS mean as a man in tue commission of his first dishonor- able act towards a woman, and I wanted you to look mean at all events; it would have made my busincss easier to handle. Well, let's have done with it. know Ralph Warriner is alive, I can give information which may lead to his capture ; and there's alw ays the dis- grace to publish." He blurted out the words athomed and indignant with her for the shame he felt. iranda, in spite of herself, was touched by Wil- braham's manner, and she amswer- ed quite gently: "Very well. I will buy your silence."' "Coals of fire!" he replied with 1 jerop up. pocket-book and 8 up_ his; a sneer. Miranda understood that he was defying her to make him ashamed. "Is that. the . re you. What Ip to New, for the future in some more or less quiet hole, where: gre of my acquaintances are likely to occurred to me;- for one thing I can reach you from Tarifa; for another I'can do the moderate income ;- for a third it is a quiet place where I can have @ shot at well--at 'what I want to do," and his voiee suddenly became shy. She | looked at him and he colored under her glance, and he shi in hi seat and laughed awkwardly. Miranda was familiar with those signs and what they signified. Wil-, braham wanted her to ask him to; confide in her. Many men at Gib-' raltar had brought their troubles » her in just this way, with just these marks of difference, this fear that the troubles would bore her. She had been called upon to play the guardian-angel at times and had not shrunk from the responsi- bility. though she had accepted it with a saving modesty of humor at the notion of herself playing the guardian- angel to any man. "What is it you want to do?" she asked, and Wilbraham confid- ed inher. The position was strange no doubt. Here is a woman whom h®& bulied, whom he meant to rob, and on whom he meant to live un- til he died, and he was confiding in her. But the words tumbled from his lips and he did not think of the relationship in whi stood to her. He was only aware that for fifteen years he had not shared a single one of his intimate thoughts with either man or woman, and he was surcharged with them. Here was a woman, frank, reliable, who asked for his confidence and he gave it, with a schoolboy's mixture of eagerness and timidity. "Do you know," said he, "the Odes of Horace have never been well translated in.o English verse by any one? Some people have done an ode or two very well, perhaps as well as it could be done--Hood for instance tried his hand at it. But no one has done them all, with any approach to success. And yet they oucht to be capable of transla- tion. Perhaps they aren't--I don't know--perhaps they are too won- derfully perfect. Probably I should make an awful hash of the job; but I think I should like to have a shot. I began years and years ago when I was an attache at Paris, and-- and I have always kept the book with me; but one has had no time.' As he spoke he drew from. his pock- et a little copy of Horace in an old light-brown cover of leather very much frayed and scratched. "Took,"' said he, and half-stretch- ed it out to her, as though doubt- ful whether he should put in into her hands or refuse to let her take it at all. She held out her hand and he made up his mind and gave it into her keeping (To be continued.) EXIT. "Do you know what my father' would have done if he had caught me doing such a thing?" asked an irate father of his youthful son; and then he went on to describe the penalties and pains that would have been inflicted. The: latter did not consider the situation at all alarming, and said a a jocular manner: "You must have had.a pretty bad father.' This cool, sarcastic tninner aah tled the parent all the more, and he exclaimed: "Well, sir, I want you to distinctly understand that I had a better father than you'll ever have.' Then he felt that he had some- what spoiled his case, and he walk- ed out of the room. NO INTERFERENCE. "Now, children," said the tea- cher, "supposing a big, fierce tiger were to seize one of your playmates in its hungry jaws and carry him off, what would'tyon Go' There was no re;)'\ youngsters were wishing 'i ner-time, and the other half wished for nothing more fervently than_ that such a tiger would devote its attention to..'eachers who asked foolish quesceis. "Come. Thomas," she said. "Wouldn't you ery for help?" "No, mum,' said Thomas promptly. "Please, mum, mother always says we shouldn't never speak at mealtimes, please, mum."' cancie tue ONLY ROOM FOR ONE. "You love Irene?' said papa. "Love her!" he passionately ex- claimed ; "why, I would die for her! 'or one soft glance from those ie eyes I would hurl myself from yonder cliff, and perish, a bleeding, bruised mass, upon the rocks two hundred feet' below?' The old man _ thonghtfully and Somewhat regretfully shook his ead.' = Dm gifted that way myself, " | said, "and one liar is snd asotg in a small family like m Inventors' are constantly. adding}. seehrovemnce ye to the typewriter, f them 'has been able to Pee his says as din-| WORD WITH DAIRY. FARMERS. The outcome of every man's im: x ness, his profession and 'self individually, depends very j |} much upon how he looks € himself, oard's Dairyman. What | are his standards in the conduct of his work? How does he honor him- self and his life work in his mind? | We do not know how much conceit or vanity he may have, but rather how much honest pride does he take in the profession he follows? There is a most powerful influence 'or good or ill in this question. One of the most powerful causes for poor, shiftless farming, miserable, low-grade cattle, run down farm, and all-t..e long train of evils that attend in the wake of such things is to start with a low-down stand- ard of what the farmer ought to be. There is the beginning of the trouble. 'He takes no pride in his farming," is the verdict. ra) where you will that sort of a farmer barely exists. He never makes money in farming nor does he win credit. That is the reason why we have to ask the question that stands as the caption to this short article. Depend upon it, that the outcome of every farmer's life either in riches, or honor, or re- spect among his fellow men, will hang very largely upon the way that question is answered. Human .nature is very queer. We have known some very unworthy, shift- less farmers who talk loudest about the rights and the honor of the far- mer. It was to be found in their case in what they said, not what they did. One of the surest ways to make money in farming is to take an honest pride in the conduct of the farm SETTING MILK FOR CHEESE. The proper method of setting the milk after it has been ripened to the necessary degree ity depends upon peraiure of the the strength of rennet used. The ideal temperature seems to be from 84 to 86 degrees, preferably the former; too high temperature causes the curds to harden tov quickly with loss of fat, and low temperature requires longer time for a proper degree of hardness or a soft cheese or curd will be the result. It must be borne in min that we must have a uniiorm tem- mer erire throughout the The amount of rennet to use de- pends upon its strength, the tem- perature and acidity of the milk, and the kind of cheese to be made;' from 2 to 4 ounce per 1,000 Jbs. of | milk may be used; it should coagu- | late the milk sufficiently for cutting! it from 20 to 35 minutes after add- ing. The rennet. should be diluted water before adding (o the milk; this allows it to be well stirred into the milk before coagulation begias. Always use a rake to stir rennet in with;-a-dipper can be used andj is | preferred by many mak-rs. ig stirring the rennet in, it 1s wise keep the surface of the vat cmtly 000 agitated to prevent cream r'sing, | being sure to stop all motion be- fore coagulation begins. Whenever possible, it is wise to cover the vat to exclude cold air, flies and dust. Close watch should be kept to note the condition so that the cutting may be begun at the proper time. Great care should be taken to stir the rennet evenly throughout the whole vat, as uneven coagula- tion causes excessive loss of vat and casein as well as imperfect tex- ture an No maker should ever attempt to stir the rennet in the vat when he has other work that calls his at- tention before the stirring process can be completed; it woukd not cause 80 much loss to leave the vat and delay the adding of the rennet until such time as he can give the _vat the necessary time and atten- tion. More loss of fat and cases is caused by the makers in this stage of cheese-making than any one is aware of. The temperature at which the cheese may be cured | should also be considered and the amount of rennet. to use; for a quick ripening at-high temperature more rennet may be used, but for ripening at about 55 degrees to 60 degrees, use not more than = 1-4 ounces of rennet.--R. C. H. Fow- ler in the New York Produce Re view. 2 * * -- IT WAS HE. "There were only taree boys in school to-day who could answer a question that the teacher asked us," said a lad to his mother. "'And"I hope my boy was one of the three?' said the fond parent. 'Well, I was answered the lad. "Tam very glad; it makes your mother proud of you. What ques- tion did the teacher ask, Johnnie ?'"' '"'Who broke the window ?' | eral vat of; with about fotty times*as much cold | utore--ALL Booklet "Distemper; Causes, Cure and rey yary "Bahr wists, harness dealers Ti ond boc & bettie ou aceon _SPOHN MEDICAL CO., Goshen, Indiana, U.8. As '*Honcymoon" Came From a Loong Session of Drinking. The honeymoon: For thirty days after a wedding the ancient Teu- tons had a custom of drinking a mead made of honey, The bridegroom: In primitive times the newly wedded man had to wait upon his bride and the guests on his wedding day. He was their groom, Sirloin of beef: King Charles I. being greatly pleased with a roast loin of beef set before nim. declu:ed it "good enough to be knighted.'* Tt has ever since beeu called Sir Loin. A spinster: Womea were prohi b- ited from marrying iv the iden times until they nad spun a full set of bed furnishings on 2 spinning wheel; hence, wll married, they were spinsters. abal: This word was coined jn Charles II.'s reign ana applied to his'cabinet council. It was nade out of the initials of theiy names, which were: Clifford, Arlington, Buckingham, Ashley, Laudesdale. ee THE UNION BANK OF CANADA the The 46th Annual Statement Best in Its History. Bank of Canada, submitted at the annual general meeting of the shareholders, held on Saturday, December 17th, was a most satis- factory one. It shows a very lib- margin of profit over the amount required for dividends. In fact, the bank earned at the rate of 14 per cent. on the average paid- up capital, and as a result of the satisfactory earnings increased their dividend from 7 to 8 per cent. The net profits for the year, after deducting expenses of manage- ment, interest due depositors. etc., etc., amounted to $451,620. During | the year $800,000 of new stock was lissued at a premium of 25 per cent., 'amounting t. *259.810. Those two ' the balance at t von November 30, 1909, amounting to $28,000, made a total of $810,107 uvailable for dis- tribution. This was apportioned as follows: Three quarterly dividends at the rate of 2 per cent., a total of $500,- 000 transferred to the rest account, this sum being made up of premi- ums on new stock and $140,000 from the ordinary earnings; the sum of $10,000, transferred to officers' pen- sion fund, leaving a balance of $80,- to earried forward. The paid-up capital now amounts to $4,000,000. being increased by $800,000 during the year and the rest account now stands at $2,400,- 000, being also largely increased during the same period An examination of the statement shows that the deposits not bearing interest amount to almost $15,000,- 000, having increased by over $3,- 000,000 during the year. This in- crease in the deposits not bearing interest indicates an increased ca- pacity for profit earning on the part of the bank. The statement shows the bank to be particularly strong in cash reserves in gold and Do- minion notes, which amount to nearly 13 per cent. of the total lia- bilities, and also that the assets immediately available, including stocks, debentures and call loans, are very nearly $15,000,000, or over 37 per cent. of the total liabilities. a gain of $44,000 over the figures of the previous year and the total as- sets of the bank an increase of $5,- 000,000 during the same period. The total assets now amount to the large sum of $47,455,000. indicating that the Union Bank has become lene of the larger of our financial institutions. That it is serving tho needs of the business community is shown by the fact that it has loans to business houses of over $80,000,- 000. Another indication of its grow- ing importance in the country is the fact that during the year 37 branch- es or agencies been opened. Altogether, the show- ing made by the bank is the best in its history and reflects the high- est credit upon the president, board of directors and general manager. a Sai It's is the bottom dollar that counts "But, dad," plesded the son, "she's a nice girl. What's your ob- jections to my marrying? You were yong yourselt | once.' mm Don' aoe re- WELL-KNOWN EXPRESSIONS.[| The 46th statement of the Union ° stomach trou rate of 134 per cent. and one at tire | The-net-profits for the-year show | of the bank have | * LIGHT UP HUMAN HOUSE. Cineamatograph Performances By uman Stomach. in action-- by _The human stomach cineamatograph performances the stomach--may classed about the latest and most brilliant accomplishment in the lighting up of the human house, with its, most important occupant as the star ac- "'bionroengenogra- phy" and is the invention of two Munich physicians, Drs. E. Kaestle and H. Rieder, in collaboration with Dr. Rosenthal, a civil engin- eer. It is the cinematograph meth- od of photography applied to the X-ray process, and gives moving pictures of the body's internal or- gans as they do their work. The stomach, which can be made resistant to the X-ray by coating its interior wall with some chemic- als--oxide of zircon is what these Germans use--is organ which most readily adapts itself to the X-ray processes, which is a@ mighty fortunate thing, because it is also the one on which the nour-} ishment of everything else depends.' Discoveries of the utmost im- portance in diagnosis have follow- ed, instantly, on the use of bion- roentgenography. 'The prevailing opinion regarding the movements f the stomach was found to be wrong. It was taken for granted by many physicians that a portion of the stomach contracted in rhyth-! mic intervas, dividing itself into six! separate parts. The moving X-ray} pictures show that such a separa-| tion doesn't take place, nor is there any strictly local end-piece to the! stomach, The contents are contracted and ushed forward; then, immediately before exit from the stomach, a portion of the mass in process of digestion returns to the stomach and goes through the movement again, Of course, diagnosis of the graver es is vastly helped by such a process; but electricity has gone a good deal further than the mere seeing of the shadow of the stomach's inner wall. ee SENTENCE SERMONS. A stiff neck often goes with a! smooth tongue. Soap does not make saints, saints never despise it. Some of us want to be wheat without fall plowing. Nursing sorrows gives the world some grownup griefs. If you would have men your religion you must live it. Righteousness is the love of the right rather than fear of the r When the heart is frozen one is apt to think that the faith is firm. A little humanity helps. the preacher more than a lot of divin- ity Religion will never mean much until you find it in the least tuings. He gets little out of prayer who prays only-when he would get some- thing. One of the uses of adversity may be to teach us patience in judging others. It is never safe to trust the man who thinks of the truth as a matter of grammar. t's a wonderfully comforting thing to see Providence get after our neighbors. He who fears he witl be lone. some in heaven may find himself in the wrong crowd. Some preaching scems to be on the notion that it needs only the fire and whirlwind to raise rich crops. It's hard-belicving in the death of ~ the devil when you see men making money by depraving children. The greatest advance that child- ren could make would be to make it plain that there could be no holi-. ness without honesty. but winter loving _-- r__--- NOT MUCH SURPLUS WHEAT. It is estimated that the world us- ed a little over 3,000,000,000 bush- els of wheat each year, on an aver- age, since 1900; that the average is now nearer 3,500,000,000, an large stock in reserve, so that a bad harvest in any one year in several of the large produciag countries is sure to send the price skying, and, that the average consumption per head of population is steadily in- creasing in bread-eating countries, | while rice-eating countries are be-; ginning to use wheat. Moral-- Grow wheat. '