Newspaper Page Text
We have put in WEEKr.
ces run fr0o~ires to change presidents as
'ance changes ministerl#.
vy tan, patj aviation doings are going to
nt a work - the round shouldered squad\
a successful and decorous avI -
you wantmeet be properly called a high ot1
Vbeat is below the average, but the',
have "of automobile accidents In first
Women's hats are to be smaller, thus
.ing the hatpins a freer range for
The girl with six feet veil stream
ing from her hat certainly does not
own an auto.
Many a man boasts that he Is "self
-WMade" when he ought to do hin best
to keep it a secret.
About the only strings on the human
kites are the pull of gravity and the
rules of the aviation meet.
The new way of proposing is this: "I
don't like your last name." If the girl
agrees to this it is all settled.
American men should prevent wom
en from entering business life, sayeaa
doctor. Just let them try iti
A highbrow tells us that there is po
etry in a bean. But the chunk of pork
that goes with it is quite prosy.
Eating corn on the cob may not be
the most dignified pastime in the
world, but, by criminy, it's real sport!
Big liners and tall skyscrapers are
soon outdone, and then they fall back
and are forgotten in the rank and
Brass bands and vaudeville stunts
have failed to draw worshipers to a
Chicago church. Why not try re
We see by the papers that a girl in
Long Branch danced herself to death.
She had probably remarked: "I could
Just die waltzing!"
A man in Cincinnati offers to sell
himself to the highest bidder, thereby
placing himself on a level with Eu
Speaking nce again of the flight of
time,_ is th anything that flies more
the week immediately
There's one born every minute. A
Cleveland girl complains to the police
that alto was persuaded to hand a
gypsy fortune teller $168.
"The forehead," says Lillian Rtussell,
"should not he too high." Great Scott!
Are they going to switch the forehead
about liko the waist line?
There is nothing newv in the report
the the human aura has been discov
ered. it has often been used as a
costume by our classical dancers.
It is against the law to wear a dead
bird on one's hat In New Jersey, but
the millIners may be depended upon
to concoct something just as costly.
Chinese authorities have spent
$100,000 in furnishing a class room
for theIr 5-year-old emperor and pro
viding imperial textbooks. Poor little
-There's a tribe in Africa, under Ger
man domInation, where the men eat
their wives. This is a litle more dis
agreeable than ordinary divorce, but
it saves ailmony.
Nevertheless, we refuse to believe
that the man who went over Niagara
F'ails in a barrel could drop 1,000 feet
from an aeroplane and escape death,
even if he used his barrel.
A writer in a Chicago newspaper
says that no real-life lovemaking is
lk. that which the novelists describe.
It may be, however, that the novelists
deseribe it as it should be.
A New York woman thinks she is
going to solve the servant problem by
importing Filipino girls. Probably she
will find before long that she has
merely added another side to it.
A shoe merchant tells us that wom
en's feet and brains are becoming
larger. Possibly he is misled by the
tact that women have developed
enoulgh brains to buy shoes that fit.
In the war against the fly the mos
quito hopes to escape unnoticed. But
success in the extermination of the
one will stimulate the fight against
\the,.cher, so the distur-bed of our slum
bers need not hum the louder in anti
A legitimate outlet has at length
been found tqr the surplus vacation
energy -of the small boy. He is fly
swatting, and the community and the
home circle are doubly rejoIced.
A French scientist has succeeded in
hatching tadpole. from frogs' eggs by
admklatering electric shocks. We de
e1~ to beonre qciti& If . he had
succeeted in tting tadpolos out of
blackberry ge9d tere' might be some
a eso fp ~g-protf~ one
Wer I~fr~te *4ev74 epnt or
AUTIJOR Or "THE BRA8
oa.[L9U[IlUo@?J ty wR
COPYR/OWT &V Lo.//1 r/o.WW VAMC
David Amber, starting for & duck-shr.otv
Ing visit with his friend, Quai conres up
nayoung lady euestriesewo has been
ismounted by hlie' o (t 'f4ecoming fright
ed-at t d ppearance in the road
D a y Hindu. He declares he is
B Lal Chatterji "the appointed
4 thpiece of the Bell,' addresses Amber
an a mail of thigh rank and pressing a
mysterious little bronze box, "T heo
ken," into his hand di'appears in the
wood. The girl calls Amber by name.
He in turn addresses her as Miss Sophie
Farrell, daughter of Col. Farrell of the
British diplomatio service in India and
visiting the Quains. Several nights later
the Quain home is burglarized and the
bronze box stolen. Amber and Quain go
hunting on an island and become lost and
Amber is left marooned. He wanders
about, finally reaches a cabin and rec
ognizes as its occupant an old friend
named Rutton, whom he last met in Eng
land, and who appears to be in hiding.
When Miss Farrell is mentioned Rutton is
strangely agitated. Chatterji appears
and summons Rutton to a meeting of a
mysterious body. Hutton seizes a revol
ver and dlashes after Chatteril. He re-I
turns wildly excited, says he has killed
the Hindu, takes poison, and when dying
asks Amber to go to India on a myster
ous errand. Amber decides to leave at
once for India. On the way he sends a
letter to Mr. Labertoucho, a scientific
friend in Calcutta, b a quicker route.
Upon arrivin lhe fin s a note awaiting
him. It direc!m Amber to meet his friend
at a certain place.
CHAPTER V1i. (Continued.)
"Who?" Her glance was penetrat
ing. "Oh, he's wytin' for you." She
nodded, lifting a shrill voice. "Garge,
0 Garge! 'Ere's that Yankee." With
a bare red elbow she indicated the
further end of the room. "You'll find
'im down there," she said, her look
Amber thanked her quietly, and, I
extricating himself from the press
around the bar, made his way in the I
direction indicated. A couple of bil
liard tables with a small mob of on
lookers hindered him, but by main
strength and diplomacy he wormed
his way past and reached the rear of
the room. There were fewer loafers
here and he had little hesitation about
selecting from an attendant circle of
sycophants the genius of the dive
Honest George himself, a fat and
burly rufflan who filled to overflow- t
ing the inadequate accommodation of L
an arm-chair. Sitting thus enthroned i
In his shirt-sleeves, his greasy and I
unshaven red face irradiating a sort a
of low good-humor that was belied by r
the cold cunning of his little eyes, he
fulfilled admirably the requirements
of the role ho played self-cast.
" 'Ere, you!" he - hailed Amber t
brusquely. "You're a 'oil of a job
tinter, ain't you? Mister Abercrom- 1
bie's boen wytin' for you this hour
gone. 'Know the w'y upstairs?"
His tone was boisterous enough to y
fIx upon Amber the attention of the I
knot of loafers round tho arm-chair.
Amber felt himself under the particu
lar regard of a dozen pair of eyes, felt
that his measure was taken and his
identification complete. Displeased, ~
he answered curtly: "No."
"This w'y, then." Honest George
hoisted himself ponderously out of his
Irm-chair and lumbered heavily across
the room, shouldering (lie crowvd
aside with a high-handed contempt
for the pack of them. Jerking open a
small door in the side wall, ho beck
onied Amber on with a backward nod
of his heavy head. "lDe a hit lively,
carn't you?" ho growled; andl Amber,
in despite of qualms of distrust, fol
lowed the fellow into a small and noi
some hallway lighted by a single gas
jet. On the one hand a flight of rick
ety steps ran up into repellent ob
scurity; on the other a low door stood
open to the night.
The crimip lowered his voice, "Your
friend's this w'y." He waved his fat
rod hand toward the door. "Them
fools back there'll think you're tryin'
for a berth with Aboerombie, the
ship-master. I 'opes you'll not tyke
offense at the w'y I 'ad to rag you
back there, sir."
"No," said Amber, and Honest
George led the way out into a small,
flagged well between towering black
walls and left him at the threshold of
a second doorway, "Two flights up,
the door at the top," he said; "knock
'twice and then twice," And without
waiting for an answer he lurched
heavily back to his own establish
Aniber watched his broad back fill
the dimly lighted doorway opposite
and disappear, of two minds whether
or not to turn tail and run. Suspici
ous enough in the beginning, the af
fair 'had now an exceeding evil smell
i-os repullsive figuratively as was the
actual effluvium of the premises.
With a shrug, at length, he took his
courage in his hands--and his life,
too, for all he knew to the contrary
and moved enu into the blackness,
groping his w a y cautiously down a
short corridor, his fingers on either
side brushing wails of rotten plaster.
He had absolutely nothing to guide
him beyond the crimp's terse instruc
tions. Underfoot the flooring seemed
to sag ominously; it creaked hideous
ly. Abruptly he stumbled against an
obstruction, halted, and lighted a
Tbe insignificant flame showed him
a flight of stilrs, leading up to dark
ness. With a drumming heart he be-,
gn to ascend, counting 21 steps ere
his feet failed to find another, Then
groping again, one hand encountered
a bajuster-rall; with this for guide he
turned and dollowed it until it began
to slaat upwtards. This ti me he count
5 BOWI." ETC.
ibove the level of the upper floor, dis
,overed to him a thin line of light,
yght along the threshold of a door.
Ele began to breathe more freely, yet
Lpprehension kept him strung %kp to
a high tension of nerves.
He knuckled the door loudly"-one
louble knock followed by another.
From within a voice called cheer.
lully, in English: "Come in."
He fumbled for the knob, found and
turned it, and entered a small, low
3eiled chamber, very cozy with lamp.
light, and simply furnished with a sin
gle chair, a charpoy, a water-jug, a
large mirror, and beneath the latter
a dressing-table littered with a collec
Lion of toilet gear, cosmestics and bot
Lies, which would have done credit to
There was but a single person in
the room and he occupied the chair
before the 4ressing table. As Amber
,ame in, he rose; a middle-aged babu
In a suit of pink satin, very dirty. In
ne hand something caught the light,
"Oah, Mister Amber, I believe?" he
gurgled, oily and affable. "Believe
no, most charmed to make acquaint
mnce." And he laughed agreeably.
But Amber's face had darkened.
WVith an oath he sprang back, threw
its weight against the door, and with
its left hand shot the bolt, while his
ight whipped from his pocket Rut
on's automatic pistol.
"Drop that gun, you monkey!" he
,ried, sharply. "I was afraid of this,
)ut I think you and I'll have an ac
,ounting before any one else gets in
Shaking with rage, Amber stood for
long monnt with pistol poised and
iyes wary; then, bewildered, he slow
y lowered the weapon. "Well," he ob
erved, reflectively, "I'm damned."
'or the glittering thing he had mis
aken for a revolver lay at his feet;
nd it was nothing more nor less than
shoehorn. While as for the babu,
Le had dropped back into the chair
nd given way to a rude but reassu
ing paroxysm of gusty, silent laugh
"I'm a fool," said &mber; "and if
'm not mistaken, you're Laber
With a struggle the babu overcame
Js emotion. "I am, my dear fellow,
am," he gasped. "And I owe you
*n apology. Upon my word. I'd for
otteni; one grows so accustomed to
Lying the parts in theso masquerades,
,fter a time, that one forgets. For
live me." lie offered a hand which
mber grasped warmly in his uinut
erable relief. "Im really delighted to
noot you," continued L~abertuche, se
'iouisly. "Any inan who knows India
an't help being glad to meet the aui
her of 'The Peoples of the Hindu
"You did frighten me," Amber con
essed, smiling. "I didn't know what
.o expect-or suspect. Certainly,"
vith a glance round the incongruously
urnished room-"I never looked for
yard to anything like this-or you,
ni that get-up."
"You wouldn't, you know," Labor
ouche admitted, gravely. "I might
lave warned you in my note; but that
vras a risky thing, at best. I feared
:o go into detail--it might have fallen
nto the wrong hands."
'"Whose?" demanded Amber.
"That, my dear man, is what we're
tiere to find out-if we can. But sit
:lown; we shall have to have quite a
bit of talk." He scraped a heap of
gaily-colored native garmnents off one
and of the charpoy and motioned Am
ber to the chair. At the same time
lie fished a cigar-case out of sofrne re
cess of his clothing. "These are
good," he remarked, opening the case
and offering it to Amber; "I daren't
smoke anything half so good when at
work. The native tobacco is abom
Iaable, you know-quite three-fourths
"At work?" questioned Amber, clip
ping the end of his cigar and lighting
it. "You don't mean to say you travel
round in those clothes?"
"But I do. It's business with me
though few people know it. Quain
didn't; only I had a chance, one day,
to tell him some rather startling facts
about native life. This sort of thing,
done properly, gives a man insight
into a lot of unusual things."
Labertouche puffed his cigar into a
glow and leaned back, clasping one
knee with two brown hands and
equinting up at the low, discolored
ceiling. And Amber, looking him
sver, was amazed by the absolute
fidelity of his make-up; the brownish
stain on face and hands, the high-cut
patent leather boots, the open-work
iocks through which his tinted calves
showed grossly, his shapeles, baggy,
moiled garments-all were hopelessly
"And if it isn't done properly?"
"Oh, then-i" Labertouche laughed,
ifting his shoulders expiessively.
'No Englishman incapable of living
ip to a disguise has ever tried it
nore than once In India; few, very
'ow, have lived to tell of the experi
nembered Rutton's empbatio prohi
But Quain had not: failed to men
ion that. "Officially, no," said Laber
touche readily. "Now and again, of
,ourse, I run across a bit of valuable
information; and then, somehow, in
irectly, the police get wind of it.
But this going fantee in an amateur
way is simply my hobby; I've been
at it for years-and very successfully,
too. Of course, it'll have its end.
One's bound to slip up eventually.
You can train yourself to live the life
Df the native, but you can't train your
mind to think as he thinks.. That's
how the missteps happen. Some
day . . ." He sighed, not in the
least unhappily. . . . "Some day
I'll dodge into this hole, or another
that I know of, put on somebody
olse's rags-say, these I'm wearing
and inconspicuously become a mys
terious disappearance. That's how it
Is with all of us who go in for this
sort of thing. But it's like opium, you
know; you try it the first time for
the lark of it; the end is tragedy."
Amber drew a long breath, his eyes
glistening with wonder and admira
tion of the man. "You don't mean to
tell me you run such risks for the
pure love of it?"
"Well . . . perhaps not altogeth
er. But we needn't go into details,
need we?" Labertouche's smile robbed
the rebuke of its sting. "The opium
simile is a very good one, though I say
it who shouldn't. One acquires a taste
for the unbidden, and one hires a lit-.
tIe room like this from an unprincipled
blackguard like Honest George, and
insensibly one goes deeper and deeper
until one gets beyond one's depth.
That is all. It explains me sufficient
ly. And," he chuckled, "you'd never
have known It if your case hadn't
"It is, I think." Amber's expression
became anxious. "I want to know
what you think of it-now Quain's
told you. And, I say, what did you
mean by 'news of the Fe.?"'
"News of the Farrells-father and
laughter, of course." Labertouche's'
"But how In the name of all that's
"Did I connect Rutton with the Far
rell's? At first by simple inference.
You were charged with a secret er
rand, demanding the utmost haste, by
Rutton; your first thought was to
Stood for a Long Moment Wit,
travel by the longer route-which, as
it happens,- Miss Farrell had startedI
upon a little while before. You had
recently met her, and I've heard she's
rather a striking young woman. You
"Yes," admitted Amber, sheepishly.
"And then I remembered some
thing," interrupted Labertouche. "I
recall Rutton. I knew him years ago,
when he was a young man. .
You know the yarn about him?"
"A little-mighty little. I know now
that he was a Rajput-though ho
never told me that; I know that he
married a Russian noblewoman"-Am
ber hesitated imperceptibly-"that she
died soon after, that he chose to live
out of India and to dio rather than
return to it."
"He was," said Labortouche, "a
singular man, an exotic result of the
unnatural conditions we English have
brought about in India. The word
renegade describes him aptly, I think;
he was born and bred a Blrahmin, a
Raiput, of the hottest and bluest
blood in Rajputana; he died to all mn
tents and purposes a European-with
an English heart. Hie Is-was-by
rights Maharana of Khandawar. As
the young miaharaj he was sent to
~ngland -to be educated. I'm told his
ord at Oxford was a brilliant one.
became a convert to Christianity
that As pr'edestined-was admitted
to the h reh of England, a communi
eant,. an his father died and he
was bmoned to take his place, Rut
~t Arst refuse4 ..'ressure was
-to bear u1 n him by the Eng
i nmant and he returned, was
enthroned, and, for a little time u4
Khandawar; It was than that I knew t
him. He was continually diuatlsfie4, ,t
however, and after a year or two die-, t
appeared. It was rumored that he" -
struck a bargain with his prime min's
ister, one Salig Singh. At all events 4
Salig Singh contrived to usurp the I
throne, government offering no objeo. I
tion. Rutton turned up eventually in e
Russia and married a woman there
who died in childbirth-twenty years g
ago, perhaps. The child did not sur- I
vive ts.,mother . . ." Labertouche I
paused deliberately, his glance search- j
ing Amber's face. "So the report ran, I
at least,"- he concluded, quietly.
. "How do you know all this?" Am- I
ber countered, evasively.
"Government watches its wards I
very tenderly," said Labertouche with
a grin. "Besides, India's a great i
place for gossip. . . . And then," I
lie pursued tenaciously, "I remem
bered something else. I recalled that
Rutton had one very close friend, an I
Englishman named Farrell-" <
"Oh, what's the use?" Amber cut in f
nervously. "You understand the sit
uation too well. It's no .good my try
ing to keep anything from you."
"Such as the fact that Colonel Far
roll adopted Rutton's daughter, who, e
as it happens, did survive her mother? i
Yes; I knew that-or, rather, part I I
knew and part I guessed. But don't
worry, Mr. Amber; \I'll keep the se- a
"For the girl's sake," said Amber, a
twisting his hands together. I
"For her sake. I pledge my word." i
"And now . . . for what purpose
did Rutton ask you to come to India? I
Wasn't it to get Miss Farrell out of a
"I think you're the devil himself,"
"I'm not,'* confessed Labertouche;
"but I am a member of the Indian se- I
cret service-not officially connected i
with the police, observei-and I know j
a deal that you don't. I think, in <
short. I can place my finger on the i
reason why Rutton was so concerned (
to get his daughter out of the coun- <
Amber looked his question. I
"You read the papers, don't you, in i
"Rather." Amber smiled.
"You've surely not been so blind as
to miss the occasional reports that I
Pistol Poised and Eyes Wary.
leak out about native unrest in'
"Surely you don't mean-"
"I assuredly do mean that the Sec
ond Mutiny inmpends," declared Lab
ertouche, solemnly. "Such, at least,
is my belief, and such is the belief of
every thinking man in India who is
at all informed. The entii'e country is
undermined with conspiracy and sedi
tion; day after day a vast, silent, un
derground movement goes on, foment
ing rebellion against the English rule.
The worst of it Is, th'ere's no stopping
it, no way of scotching the serpent;
its heads are myriad, seerningly. And
yet-I don't know-since yesterday I
have hoped that through you we might
eventually strike to the heart of the
"Through me!" cried Amber,
Labertoucho nodded. "Just so. The
informdtion you have already brought
us Is invaluable. Have you thought
of the significance of Chatterji's 'Mes
sage of the Bell?'"
"'Even now,' Amber quoted me
chanically, "'The Gateway of Swords
yawns wide, that he who is without
fear may pass within; to the end that
the Body be purged of the Scarlet
Evil.'" He shook his head mystified.
"N6; I don't understand."
"It's so simple," urged Labertouche:
"Alt but the Gateway of Swords.'. I
don't place that--yet. . ..B
the 'Body'-plainly that Is I
'Scarlet Evil-could anything
tingly describe English rule
native point of view?"
Amber felt of his head sol
"And yet," he averred p taint
,doesn't feel lika wood. -' Lm
Dhig n will ler4 gS
i 01a Baksh,--omi
ant oubtedly. May
Unbuttoisg his shirt,
Luded the ]ye from the o
abertouche studied it for
n silence, returning it wi
"The thing is strange
aid. "For the present w
aas it as simply what it
e-a token, a sign by which
hall know- another. .
out turn the -stone in; and
Lands In your pockets W100
Amber obeyed. "We'll
"Yes." Labertouche ro6
way his cigar and stamgr
"But the Farrells?"
"rgive me; I had for
rarrells are at Darjeeling, 9
olonel is stationed just nowt
"Then," said Amber, with
I leave for Darjeeling t
"I know no reason wS4.
houldn't," agreed Labertouc
nything turns up I'll contriy7
rou know." le looked Amber
iown with a glance that.to<W
letail. "I'm sorry;" he bi
'you couldn't have managed '
trace shabbier. Still, a tout
Lnd there, you'll do eeAlenut
La a sailor on a spree."
"As bad as that?"
"Oah, my dear fallowI "-it we
he babu speaking, while he I.
Lround Amber with his head c,'
y to one side, like an inquisitive!
law, now and again darting fo
o peck at him with hands that
maly but deftly arranged ddta
its attire to please a taste fast.
Lnd exacting in such matters
ny dear fallow, surely you appri
langer of venturing into nateeve
,ers in European dress? As ret'
mt-and-out sahib, I am meanhi,
:ourse. It is permeesible for rift
iailors and Tommies from the
Lnd soa on, to indulge in debaut
tmong nateeves, but first-class P
-Oah. noah I You would be mc
n no-time-at-all, where we are gt
"All right; I guess I can pla:
)art, babu. At least, I've plenty o
nosphere," Amber laughed, menti
ng the incident of the peg he had r,
:onsumed over Honest George',
"I had noticed that; a hs
lent, indeed. I think"-I'
itepped back to look A.,
tgain-"I think you will
)ne moment." U
He seized Amber's hat an
t violently to the floor, d
tamped It out of shape;
stored to.t owner Jt hr
ai'Tn es an' M4
ites. Amber laughed, puttin
'Surely you couldn't ask me
nore disreputable," he said'
lubious survey ofthimset in tt
"You'll do," chuckled Laberi
rpprovingly. "Just ram your
nto your trousers pockets w,
mnbuttoning your coat, and si
dlong as if nocturnal rambles it
slums of Calcutta were an ever)
hing to you. If you're spokenN
lon't betray too much familiarity
he vernacular. You know abouti ',
imit of the average Tommy's voe't
ary; don't go beyond it." He q
Jolted and locked the door by wl'
A~mber had entered, putting the
in his pocket, and turned to a sec
loor across 'the room. "We'll 1e
;his way; I chose this place becr
.t's a regular rabbit warrenNith
x dozen entrances and exits, I'll lel
you in a passage leading ton the ba
Wait in the door'way until you seo
stroll past; give me thirty yards1
and follow. Keep in the iftitidle
the way, avoid a crowd as th7e plag
and don't lose' sight of me. I'll .
in front of Dohla Baksh's glhop l1
anough to light a cheroot and go
without looking back. When
some out i'll be waiting for you,~
we lose one another, get bacli to ye1,
liotel as quickly as possible. I n
send you word. If I don't, I dhall
destand you've taken the first mlorn(
train for Darjeeling. I think thn
(TO BE! CONTINUED.)
A Marriage Black List.
The habit of making inquiries at
vate detective offices as to the m ~
and mode of life of any young in
who is under consideration as a int
able husband by the relativee of
girl whom he wishes to marry lea
to some curious complications iii Au
tria and H6'nmugary. Young men dee~
In debt are inscribed on the so-calle
'black list" at the inquiry office.
Good partis are, on the other ha ,
put down on the "white list." Fil *
young Hungarian- aristocrats who we
Involved in debt to such an extent tf
the only possibility of retrieving th~
fortunes lay in making rich marria81
formed a kind of company for the
pose of finding wives, Each was
be provided with a l'ich bride, pref~
ably an American betress, as his t'u'
A Woman's Rule,
Mmne. Bernhardt, at a supper
New York, smiled symnpathetical
over the story of a young actor wi
had applied vainly for thae post of se~
rotary to a rich widow.
"He failed, I understand," said Mmnd