A Mist in the Channel OR, THE MYSTERY OF THE " TARIFA' S" CARGO CHAPTER X.--(Cont'd) Miranda rang a-hand-bell, and yrdered search to be made for the love. It could not be found; it Jad been burnt with the answered getters. "Very well," said Miranda, and jhe servant retired. Miranda sat gown, and showed to Jane Holt a ce of which the expression was most scared. "What does it matter?" exclaim- yd Jane. "The glove was torn ; you could never beve used it.' "No," answered Miranda quick- Wy, almost guiltily it seemed. ee never have used it; I never eant to use it. The glove was ynly a symbol; it was no more than that, it represented a belief. I ran retain the belicf no doubt. No though I have lost the " "What in the world are you talk- Ing about?' interrupted Jane Holt. 'Nothing, nothing," answered Miranda with a start. The loss of the glove had so dismayed her that e had forgotten who it was she ne been speaking to, or indecd that she wes speaking to anyone. Bhe had merely uttered her thoughts, for she had come to look upon that glove, which, under no circumstances would she use, as mone the less a safeguard, and of jate, in particular, she had fallen Into a habit of taking it from the drawer in which it rested and set- ling it before her eyes; of stating it, as it were, as a refutation of Jane Holt's ready opinions. Jane Holt shook her head. "You have changed very much towards me, Miranda. You are growing secret. I don't want to know. I would not press any one for their ronfidence; but I may think it strange, I suppose?' She folded her arms across her breast and tap- ed 'with her fingers upon her el- ows. 'I suppose I may think it strange; and if any one took the trouble to give me a thought, per- haps any one might believe that I had a right to feel hurt. But I don't! Please don't run away with that idea! No, I cannot allow you, Miranda, to fancy for a moment that I should feel hurt. But I do fice that you jump) whenever foere is a knock at the door. ere! What did -I say?" The door of the parlor stood open to the patio; in the corner of tho} ppposite side of the patio there was the mouth of a passage which led to the outer door; and upon that puter door just at this moment some pne rapped heavily as though he tame in haste. Miranda started nervously, and to cover the move- ment, rose from her chair and tlosed the door. "Ard as for the glove," resumed Jane Holt, who found it difficult to leave any subject alone when 1t was evident that it was unwelcome, vou could never have used it.' "No," answered Miranda, Jhoushtfully. "Of course--of course, could never have used it;" and a gervant entered the room and han- d@ed to her a card on which was en- raved M. Fournier's name and ad- ress, Miranda held the card beneath her eyes for some little while. Then the walked out into the patio where M. Fournier awaited her. He came bowards her at once in an extreme agitation, but she signed to him to be silent, and opening a second door on the same sie of the patio as the door of her parlor, but fur- ther to the right, she led the way Into a tiny garden rich with deep tolors. Jonquils, camellias, roses, wild geraniums and pinks, tended with a care which bespoke a mis- Jress from another country, made a say blaze in the sun, and sweetened jhe air with their delicate perfumes. The garden was an irregular nook with something of the shape pf a triangle, enclosed between the back wall of the house and a wing Aung out at a right angle. Ihe pase of the triangle was an old brick wall breast-high which begun at the end of the house wall and rurved outwards until it reached the wing. Over this wall the eye cooked through air to tha olive lanted slope of u mountain. Fur he house -was--built-on--te--brink- pf the precipice, it was ia a line with the Alameda, though divided from it by the great chaz and lf one leaned over the crumbliog wall built long ayo hy the Mocrs, pne had an- impressivun tuat one pught to see the waves churning at the foot of the rock we to hear a Jaint moaning of the sea; so that the sight of t level carpet of the continually surprised the "Into this garden ee brought | iGed's sake do quickly coming out clear and small, to Miranda's par.wr were in the end and the other oide of the wing, and so commanded the valley with- out commanding tnis euclusur2. A little flagged causeway opened a path between the flowers to the nook between the wing of the house and the old wall, where two lounge chairs invited use. Miranda seated herself 'n one of these chairs and with a gesture of- fered the other to Mr. Fournier. M. Fournier, however, took no heed of the invitation. He had eyes only for Miranda's face. He held his hat in one hand, and with a colored handkerchief continually mopped is forehead, a dusty perspiring im- age of anxiety. "You come from my husband?" said Miranda. M. Fournier's face | lightened. 'Ah, then, you know-- me "That he is alive? Yes. You come from him." "From him, no; on his behalf, yes." , Miranda smiled at the subtle dis- tinction. 'You no course,' she said drily. much do you want? You have no ee, some authority from my hus- band The little Belgian's anxiety gave place to offended pride. "We do not need money, neither he nor I; but as for authority, perhaps this will serve."' He drew from his pocket a soiled scrap of paper and handed if to Miranda. The paper, as she could sec from the blue lines, the shape, and the jagged border, had been torn from a small pocket-book. It was so crumpled and soiled that a few words scribbled with a pencil on the outside in Arabic were barely visible. Miranda unfolded the paper slowly, for the mere look of it was sinister. The words within were written also in pencil, and her face altered as she read them. "What does J. B. mean?" she asked. "J. B, are the inrtials of the name he took * "You are sure this comes from my husband? I do not recognize his hand."' "Quite sure."" "Here is bad news," said she, and she conned the words over again, and could nowhere pick out the familiar characteristics of Ralph Warriner's handwriting. words themselves were startling. Reward the bearer well, and for what you can. But more startling, more sig- nificant than the words was the agi- tution of the writer's hand. Haste and terror had kept the hand wav- ering. Here the pencil had paused, vet even when pausing its point had trembled on the paper, as the blurred dots showed. Miranda im- agined that so it had paused: and tremb!ed while some one walked by the writer's back and had but to glance over his shoulder to discov- er the business he was engaged up- on. Then again, the pencil had raced on, running the words one into the other, fevered to get the message done. A whole tragedy was indicated in the formation cf the letters. Or a malady? Miranda turned eagerly to the letter. The writing wavered up and down. The small letters were clear; the capi- tals and the long letters, the "f's," the 'y's'? weak, as the "y's though the fingers could not con- trol the pencil. Illness m'ght ac- count for the message, and Mirun- da chose that supposition. "He is lying very ill somewhere,"' she said. M. Fournier shook his head. "No. I tried to believe that my- self ut first; but I never dij be- lieve it, and I thought and thongnt and thought--Tenez, look!" He drew a piece of blank paper from one pocket, a pencil from another. The paper he spread upon his knee, the pencil he took between his teeth; then he held out his wrists. "Now fasten them together."' Miranda uttered a cry. Her face grew very white. '(What with?' she asked. "Your belt." She unclasped her belt from her waist and strapped Fournier's wrists together. "Tighter," said he, "tighter. Now see! ; With great labor and difficulty he copied out Warriner"s message on the blank paper ; aud while he wrote Miranda saw the sentence waver- ing up and down, the small letters the long strokes and tails straggling. She seized the copy almost before he had finished, and held it skle by side with the original. There was a difference, of course, the Cciffer- Fournier. "No lows over- fos ence which stamped one man's hand Fournier's, the difference of fear, but that was the only difference. The. method in each case was identi- cal; the same difficulties had pro- duced the same results. 'There can be no doubt, hein?" asked Fone as Miranda unfast- ened the b 'How td this come to you?' she returned. "T tell you," said he, "from the Warriner calls himself now. Bentham--Jeremy Bentham he calls himself, because he says he's such an economist--Well, he and I are partners in a little business and we have prospered. So when Bentham came back from Bemin Sooar .to Tangier a week ago, I give a din- ner in my house to a few friends and we dance afterwards. Perhaps ten or eleven of us and Bentham. Bentham he came and danced and he waa the last to go away. did not stay in my house--it was better for our little business that we should not be thought more than mere friends. He had a lodging in the town, while my house was out- side up the hill. He e away alone on a mule, for he was in ev- ening dress and one cannot walk across the Sok in dancing shoes, and he never reached his lodging. He disappeared. I heard no word of him, until yesterday; yesterday, about mid-day; an Arab brought that scrap of paper to my shop." "But the Arab told you how and where he got it?' said Miranda. "Yes. He belonged to a douar, a tent village, you understand. The village is three days from Tangier on the road to Mequinez. The Arab was leading down his goats to the water a week ago in the morning, when six men passed him at a distance. They were going up into the country; they had a mule with them. He watched them pass and noticed that one of them would now and then loiter and fall a lit- tle behind, whereupon the rest beat him with sticks and drove him again in front. And he did not resist, Madame. Iam afraid we know why he did not resist." Miranda pressed her hands to her forehead. "Well," she said with an effort, and her voice had sunk to a whis- per; "finish, finish'!" "Tt seemed to the Arab," con- tinued Fournier, whose anxiety seemed in some measure to dimin- ish, and whose face grew hopeful as he watched Miranda's increasing distress, "that this victim made a sign to him, and when the party had gone by he noticed something white gleaming on the brown svil in the line of their march. He went forward and picked it up. It was this piece of paper. He read the writing on it, these marks." M. Fournier turned over the sheet, and pointed to the indecipherable Arabic. "They mean, 'Take this to Fournier at Tangier and you will get money.' He opened it, he could not read the inside, but seeing that te) e]it was written in one of the langu- t'> Nazaienes, he thought be some truth in the So he brought the paper and I have ages o there migi. promise. to Tangier yesterday brought it to you." M. Fournier ecttled his glasses upon his nose am. uned forward for his answer. Miranda sat with knitted brows gazing out to the dark mountains. Fournier would not interrupt her; he fancied she was searching her wits for a device to bring help to Warriner; but, in- deed, she was not thinking at all. (To be continued.) s---- A WORKER's HYMN. With earnest supplication, O Lord, we bring the plea That men of every nation From liquor may be free. Whilo duty's call is pressing, Our minds for work prepare; And give Thy gracious blessing And answer this our prayer. Unto the weak and doubtful Give confidence and strength, And make their labors fruitful With large success at length. To those who leng have striven Against this mighty foe May larger life be given we ug prospects brighter grow. By manifold revealers, Clear as the midday sun, Make known to liquor dealers The harm which it has done. May nations say "we never Were for such bundage madd We now renounce forever : This life-destroying trade."' Direct, we pray, all voters, And all who make the laws, That they may be promoters Of freedom's righteous cause. In firmness and decision May this great land excel: May no one have permission Intoxicants to sell. T. WATSON. Uniondale, Ont., 1910. Sufficient water should be taken every, day to flush the system and carry off waste and iin ma- terial from the blood beginning. Bentham--that is what}. ~ DISCOVERY OF CAUSES OF SERIOUS EPIDEMICS, ---- Dr. Osler Tells of the Wonderful Work Accomplished in One Generation. Preventive medicine, says Dr. Osler, writing in the American Magazine, was a blundering art until thirty or forty years ago, when it was made a science by the discovery of the causes of many ser- ious epidemics. It is in connection with the great plagues that man's redemption of man may in the fu- ture be effected; at present we have only touched the fringe of the subject. He goes on:-- even a generation has done! The man is only Koch), who gave to his fellow men the control of cholera. Read the story of yellow fever in Havana if you wish to get an idea of the pow- ers of experimental medicine ;.there is nothing to match it in the his- tory of human achievement. ONCE WHITE MAN'S GRAVE: "Before our eyes to-day the most striking experiment ever made in sanitation is in progress. The digging of the Panama Canal was acknowledged to be a question ARE FAST WINNING FIGHT! How little do we appreciate what ; Zc. a Box at your druggist's, will rake life comfortable for As They relieve the worst headache 1.38 mites or es au ee ee ee eee Se Limited, °- « e¢ THE RIGHT ' DISTEMPER, PINK EY ere, INFLUENZA, LDS, ETC. of all horses, etek colts, stallions, is to "SPOHN THEM" on their tongues or in the feed put Spohn's Liquid mpound. ivet no igre ow hed are "exp ree from anything inj can safely "take it. njarious A child Distributors: All Whelesale Druggists SPOHN MEDICAL Co., GOSHEN, IND., U. S. A, WAY \ $1.00; $5.50 and $11.00 4 the dozen, Sold by drucsists and and arneasdeslace a Chemist Ny just dead (Robert|: mists and Bacterioclogists MAPLEINE 2 fi used th le by ae 2 seme as mem oF va Me ing pen a pte msdee poten ¢ is sald ta Roe a te ca. bettie and 'Beattie, Wa @2O064.4.46.46.46.444.4 = = =. 7 o we a5 = = Ma eh of the helath of the workers. For four centuries the Isthmus had een a white man's grave, and at one time during the French con- trol the mortality reached the ap- palling figures of 170 per thousand. Even under the most favorable cir- Sua ears it was extraordinary ig GREAT ACHIEVEMENT. 'Month by month I got the re ports which form by far the most interesting sanitary reading of the: present day. Of more than 50,000 emptoyees (about 13,000 of whom | are white), the death rate per thou-| sand for the month of March was 8.91, a lower percentage, I believe, than in any city of the United tingdom, and very much lower than in any city of the United States. It has been brought in a} great part by researches into the lifa, history of the parasite which pro-; duces malaria, and by the effec- | tion. Here, again, is a chapter in human achievement for which it would be hard to find a parallel. MOST DEADLY ENEMY. "Man's most deadly enemy,' ' the writer goes on to say,, "is tubercu- losis--one of the great infections of the world, whose cause it has been one of the triumphs of our genera tion to determine. With improved sanitation its mortality has been! reduced since 1850 more than 40 per cent., ain and Ireland in 1908, and 589 in due to it." We real further :-- "A plain proposition is the people. how it /s how it suitab |. to make this knowledge is the prime thing. It is a camnaiga for the public; past history shows that it is @ campaign of hope. The measures for its stamping out, though simple on paper, caused, ow it is spr read, ' fabric of society, insuperable, and are gradually dis-| appearin Only united off ---- A SUBSTITUTE. "Good gracious, Willie, did you get that black eye? 4 ef Johnny Smith hit me with his | st.' "And I hope you remembered what your Sunday-school teacher! said about heaping coals of fire on the heads of our enemies ?" "Well, I didn't have any coal, rso I upset the ash-pan over him. " A worthy and provident man went | to his legal adviser to make his will. He gave many instructions, and it seemed that everything was arranged. The lawyer began to read over his notes, and put a point to his client. "Oh--y ou haye,made provision for your wife in the event er surviving you. Does that remain unaltered if she should marry again?' "No, no," said the client, eagerly. "What am I leay- ing ei on thousand dollars a year. she marries again make it $2, ne " "The lawyer thought there must be a misunderstanding, and pointed out that most men put it the other way'about. 'I know," said the client, '"'but the jan who takes her will deserve it.' "Do you think a man should take ing his business affairs?" asked the ae who had just. been married. |vigorously, and--often dig out If ze isn't @ any money, |square holes clear down to the hot yes," replied their search fo tive measures taken for its destruc- ; drain laid |@ swamp in good condition, in the rainiest part of the season. ture pen gai | which ought to interest the man , Who keeps on year after year breed- ing his cows to some scrub bull. ;and energy required to build up a 'fne herd of dairy cattle. [Rear business-men. energy into the production of milk and still have enough to build up \her offspring is to it that the mother has sufficient of the right kind of food and goes a rightly. flock of hens, but whose hours were | tes so irregular that he could not feed them at stated times, has found this method to give en- tire satisfaction. of litter is first spread over the floor.and then a layer of grain such as cracked corn or wheat, then an- the hig is from six to eight inches his wife into his cunfidence regard- | dee "one, } tom i THE FEEDING LOT. There is no good reason why the feed lot should not be kept in good condition, even if there is no hill on the farm. If the land is level and only a small bunch of cattle is to be fed, a good plan is to re- move the top soil with a road scrap- er.to the depth of six inches or more, and then cover the surface with smooth stones topped off with coarse coal cinders mixed with sand. Of course, the best way to keep a small feed lot dry is to pave it with brick. This costs something at the start, but the investment will pay every time. The cattle are always on dry footing and no feed is wasted by being thrown on the ground. If a large lot of cattle is to be fed, the cost of paving a large lot is out of the question; but it can be underdrained with success. Tile in the ordinary way, 'from ten to twenty feet apart, will 'keep any lot that is not located in even Drainage will cost no more than sheds and unless the sheds are very wide they soon become soaked with the driving rains and mud is then carried into then by the cattle, and are little better than an open |? lot. On our own farm we have two lots of ten acres each, which are but it still kills a larger perfectly drained. They are on a number of people than any other slightly sloping rise, and we placed isease--some @0,000 in Great Brit- the drains about twenty feet apart. , Perhaps 40 fect would have answer- London alone. Practically between 'ed the purpose, but we dcvided to 10 and-11 per cent. of ali deaths 2 e take no chances, and we are satis- | fied bcfore two lots cost us $400 for tile and We know the discase,' work, besides our own, but we think with our investment. These 'it has paid, because our cattle have f should be prezented, how in|!been fattened in comfort.--C. M. eases it may be cured, How | Coulton. WITH THE DAIRY HERD. The fault of gig in gener- present 'al is not sc much the lack of know- difficulties interwoven with the very ledge as the proper application of but they are not' the knowledge they possess. One thing that we ought to con- prolonged and'sider when we start out to buy orts carried through sev-| breeding cattle is the fact that the eral generations can place the dis-| knowledge, skill and character of ease in the same category with ty-|the man we buy them of is about phus fever, typhoid and smallpox," | as important as the animals that we are buying. Can a man sow poor seed and} hope to get a good crop? Will Na- make any exceptions in one 's favor? These are questions Too many farmers lack the push They are The cow cannot turn all of her rightly. To raise ood, vigorous calves, we must see ry long enough to do the work DEEP LITTER FEEDING. A Western doctor who had a fine writes that he or this sort of feeding a layer other of grain, alternating until Young chickens attack this heap plenty of exerciso and, as a rule, they thrive excellently. n some experiments made in thia matter, -litter-fed chicks actually gained much more than those fed by hand, although both lots were fed exactly the same rations, and the hand-fed birds received all they could eat and at 'all times. If the litter is kept perfectly dry it does not become foul, because; the constant movement of it by the chickens keeps it well aired and no unpleasant odor results. UNDISPU TED WEALTH. Savages Have Galved the Problen of Political Feonomy. In a land where food and drink, and ready-made clothes grow onl trees and may be had for the gu-| pyeohie: it is not easy to see how man can run very deepsy in debt lfor his living expenses. But in, "The Island of Stone Money," W.| H. Furness, 3d, explains that na-' tures ready-made clothes are not ornamental, especially of woman, from the equator to the poles, demands per-! sonal adornment. Like all adornments, polished shells, tortoise-shell, variegated eads, and so forth, demand labor in the making. Here, then, the na- tives of Yap, one of the Caroline Islands, have solved the problem of political economy, and found that labor is the true standard of value. But this medium must he enduring, an as their island yields no metal, they have to re- course to stone; stone, on which labor in fetching and fashioning has been expended, and as truiy a representation of Jabor as the mia and minted coins of ecivilizat' wv. This medium of exchange they: call fei. It consists of large, solid, thick stone wheels, ranging in di- ameter from a foot to twelve fest, having in the centre a hole vary- ing in size with the diameter if the stone, wherein a pois may be inserted sufficiently larze to beur the weight and facilitate transpor- tation. These stone '"'coins'? are not made on the Island of Yap, but were originally quarried and shap- ed in one of the Pelao Islands, four hundred miles to the southward,! and brought to Yap by vyenture- some native navigators, in canoes and on rafts, over tho ocean by: no means as pacific as its name oe plies. | A noteworthy feature of this" eos currency, which is also an equally noteworthy tribute to Yap | honesty, is that it is not necessary for its owner to reduce it to pos- session. After concluding a bar. }gain which involves the price of «& fei too large to be conveniently mov- ed, its new owner is quite content to accept the bare acknowledg. ment of ownership, and without se much as a mark to indicate the exe change, the coin remains undisx turbed on the former owner' S Pro mises. whege There was one family werlth was acknowledged by every one, and yet no one, not even the family itself, had ever laid eye or hand on this wealth. It consisted of an enormous fei, whi¢éh was: ly. ing at the bottom of the sea, Many years ago an ancestor of this fame ily secured this remarkably valu. able stone, Which was placed on a; raft to be towed home. A violent. storm arose, and the party was ob-' liged to cut the raft 'ea and the stone sank out of s When they reached ' 'they all testified that the fei was of _ nificent proportions, an lost through no fault of the owner. If was, therefore, conceded that 's few hundred feet of water over if ought not to affect its market vale ue. The purchasing power of that stone, therefore, remains valid. OO g heips one more thez coke re the belpless. and the soul of man,// 2 P * Mage r)