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I. INTN...: i COMMANDMENT
EMARKABLE achievements of Ivan Brodsky, physician, whose investigations into psychic phenomena enabled him to cure spiritual diseases and to exorcise evil spirits from the bodies of their victims. i 4 By H. M. EGBERT A A S (opyright 1900 by W. U. Chapman.) (Copyright in Great Britai..) HE one condition of Dr. Ivan Brodsky's psychical work that he found most 'burdensome was the con stant requests that poured in upon him from innumer able people who had come him. On all sides he was bR applications for assistance k S+rje in the solution of some which, while immensely in his reputation, left him little r4 the prosecution of his investi was forced to refuse many S bppplicalts, who, in return, de Shtim as a charlatan. Brod denunciation and praise indifference. time he had severed his con '; ith the hospital and devoted entirely to private practice tle~nts suffering from rare tdl and nervous disorders. As an physician, he felt that the of the profession excluded the SM-onrecognized remedies. In piractice he felt free to make thi knowledge of those spirit 4gges which, he claimed, under ial = physical manifestations of dis morning I found him in earn ration with a visitor-a man, of agitated aspect who, me enter, rose from his pitously and prepared to his departure. t go," said Dr. Brodsky. "Allow *iintroduce you to my secretary, . smy confidential assistant in :matters." hyoung man, who was introduced e i Mr. John Sykes, sat down His agitation was still more h; e stared around him as bwildered. 1To, Mr. Sykes, suppose you re your story," said Dr. Brodsky. B i at the beginning and don't S opv t anything, even if it seems ` yeou to be of trivial Fnoment." ell, sir," "said the young man im sly, "as I said to you at first, SI a greptly in doubt whether this is J'. csae for you or for a jury. But I 'i*h to exhaust every possible reme - +,before taking the, law into pny own , q;im Then, if I become convinced eyond all possibility of doubt that -nj wile is untrue to me, I shall put a ough my brother's head, and 8 4arward through my own." "Ich wouldn't help either of you te least," replied Brodsky suavely. Would find yourselves immediate triTpplanted into another not so different world, with your enmity at boiling point, but without the l means of allaying it. Sup you continue." '"lf name, as I have said, is John " said the young man more ly. "My brother Philip and I th 6nly children of our father bihe. inheritors of the Sykes es - My father cut me out of his will account of my marriage. My wife Swoman whom no man could feel med of; my offense was that of wlitig married without asking his teeL He was subject to fits of tem and changed his will. Had he lived would undoubtedly have forgiven e" But unfortunately he died almost ly afterward, leaving the mansion and grounds to Phil .whbile I was forced to continue the r of a little cottage adjacent I bought some years ago. Nat . ,this caused an estrangement w.eep my brother and me. I, my am happy enough in my cottage. until a few days ago, when I first imbted my wife's affection, no hap hap mortal existed. My wife, howev ha, d always felt a sentimental re tr for the old mansion. It would tarally have passed to us, Philip re San equivalent in cash. The intment has greatly affected 1Some weeks ago, my brother and I = YIn~g then been estranged for sev . months, I surprised my wife one coming out of the mansion he was ansd still is living. You L MARTYR TO PRINCIPLE ..s t .have died for a prinCiple. There 4i .ewoman in New York who can thin with them. She has not exactly, but she has done some tt.required grit. The experi :bega in a familiar way-no op uader $3 at the box oice but of them in the hands of specu i-o were offering them at an of $1 on the regular price. you a good seat," said the can imagine my consternation. My brother had already everything that I lacked save only her: was I to be be reft of her through any machinations of his to draw her within the sphere of his interests? I taxed her with vis iting him; she admitted it and, weep ing, explained that she had gone only to intercede for me. She wanted us to be friends, and, above everything else, she wanted Philip to sell us the mansion upon favorable terms, as he purposed traveling abroad and was not bound to it by any such intense attachment such as she had con ceived. Philip had almost yielded to her request. I, however, am not of a temperament easily placated. I sus pected that my brother was partly in strumental in the changing of our fa ther's will. I refused to have any kind of dealings with him. I scolded her for visiting him, explained the misconstruction that might be put upon such an act by village gossip, and she promised me never to see him again. "A few weeks ago I learned from servants' chatter that the Sykes man sion was reputed to be haunted by the spirit of a woman. The butler had told a village crony that the figure of a woman walked through the rooms and passages at night. He had seen it, had taken it for a sleep-walker and essayed to catch it, but it had van ished before his eyes and his hands had grasped only thin air. "I am something of a student and often sit up alone all night with my books and papers. I am at present en gaged in writing a monograph upon our American bats. Sometimes my ob servations take me away for a day or two, so that my wife and I see not too much of one another. Indeed, of late, since the episode I referred to, we seem to have begun to drift apart. I am not a believer in the supernat ural, and this foolish gossip of the butler aroused the most terrible sus picions in me. I resolved to discover for myself what truth lay in the ru mor. "Pretending to be about to set off on a two days' journey for the pur pose of securing specimens, I came back at night and concealed myself in an old building, now unoccupied, but formerly used as a barn by my grandfather, adjoining the mansion. From here I was enabled to obtain a clear view of a large part of the in terior, which is built in a rambling way and can in this manner be over looked. I saw my brother lower the light in his study and a minute or two later saw the lamp flash out in his bedroom. The lower portion of the house was plunged into darkness. It was past midnight. I was about to dismiss my project as a chimera, feel ing much ashamed of my suspicions, when an irresistible impulse impelled me to go to the open window of the darketied study. Actuated by the same instinct which seemed to force me on ward against my will, I creot in noise lessly, traversed the room, and emerged into the corridor. From the far end a veiled figure came gliding toward me. For a moment the eerie ness of the situation, I confess, rooted ine to the spot with horror. It came nearer; and suddenly I found myself looking into what I can swear was the face of my wife. Another moment, and the figure had passed me, with the same noiseless tread, and van ished into the distance. I do not know how long I remained there. When I came to my senses I was in my cot tage, fumbling with a pistol. I dashed up to my wife's room and hammered violently upon the door. Suddenly she came out and confronted me. She was robed in a dressing gown and looked up with innocent, frightened eyes, as though just awakened out of sleep. I made no answer to her terrified ap peals, but rushed out of the house and came straight to you, knowing that if there could be any supernatural solu tion of the difficulty you would put me out of my suspense. While the period between our encounter in the mansion and that in my own cottage seems al. most too short to have enabled her to return and assume the role she played, I confess that I look upon you as the last possible refuge left me before I commit some act of desperation." It was impossible not to be deeply impressed by the evident sincerity of the young man and by his deep dis tress. For my part, I was inclined to believe the worst. But a glance in to Brodsky's impassive face convinced me that he did not share my sus picions. Brodsky's opinions of women were curiously fine; as I learned after ward, and hope subsequently to be able to tell, his life had been molded by one of the noblest character, who had died before the day set for their marriage, leaving him to cherish her memory as a continual inspiration. We determined to start at once for the village, which was some 15 miles distant, situated in the heart of a sparsely settled farming country. It was decided that, bsth in view of the young mpa'n easlted condition and in order to enable us to pursue our in vestigations freely, which conscience would not have permitted had we been speculator who grabbed her first. "No," said she defiantly, "if you were selling at half price I wouldn't buy from a speculator." The night of the opera came. It was a snowy, blowy night, but the woman was out and for some reasos she passed the opera house. That same speculator was still plying hi' trade; "Good seat for to-night, lady," he the guests of Mrs. Syxes, that we should make our headquarters at the village inn, where Sykes was expect ing to meet a man who might throw light upon the problem. We arrived there late in the afternoon and found the place empty of visitors, it being late in the fall. As we were seated in the spacious, old-fashioned parlor, an elderly man of consequential demean or came softly and furtively up the back path. Sykes rose to meet him. "Gentlemen, this Jones, my broth er's butler and an old empioye of my father's," he said, rising dramatically and locking the door. "Now, Jones, repeat what you told me yesterday." "I've more to tell you since I saw you yesterday, Mr. John," said Jones huskily. He adopted toward the young man that mixture of patronage and servility which indicates, in a me nial, the acceptance of some bribe in return for a dereliction of duty. "We saw her last night, sir. I thought I heard a burglar downstairs and dressed myself and went out to see. On the landing I met the master com ing out of his room. He had heard the noise too. We went down soft like, and suddenly we saw her, as plain as life, coming along the pas sage." "Who was she?" interrupted Sykes in a voice choking with emotion. "That I wouldn't take it upon my self to say, sir," said the butler with a smirk. "'Twasn't anybody I know, leastways, so far as I could tell by the walk, because she wore a veil and was all in white, which is a powerful disguiser of females, sir. So I says to myself: 'Jones, if the master chooses to have young female ghosts in his house at two in the morning, that ain't no business of yours.' So I turns to go back, and, while I was ii IL~rddez ' "e came aDcit coa zko z/edctrke."' looking at her, she disappeared, right under my eyes." Suddenly Sykes flew at the man like a deerhound and grasped him by the collar, shaking him furiously. "You rascal, tell me who the wo man was," he cried. The butler's face turned purple. "'Twasn't anybody I know, sir," he gasped, breaking loose and reeling back against the wall. "I'll swear it wasn't any human living being, sir. She vanished right before my very eyes-" Sykes stood off and looked at the man contemptuously. "Jones," he said, "you are a dirty, lying hound. You told your cronies here that it was Mrs. Sykes." The man began to tremble. "You know me from old times, Jones," continued the young man more coldly. "You shall have one chance to prove your statement, and if you can't I'll shoot you like a dog." "I swear-" the man began to bab ble-"I swear I told nobody. But it was her, Mr. John, and I can't lie to you. I'm willing to prove it and to stake my life on it." "Jones," said the young man, "these gentlemen are friends of mine. At ten o'clock to-night, or as soon after ward as the light goes out in your master's study, we shall be at the side door. You will unlock it and admit us to the' empty picture gallery which commands a full view of the corri dors. Here!" He took a roll of bills from his pocket and peeled off half a dozen.. "Take this for your services. And if ever you say a word in the vil lage-" "Yes, sir-yes, Mr. John," babbled the man, pouching the money with avidity. "I'll be there on time," sir." He turned and crept out of the room. Once outside, however, he gradually reassumed his jaunty demeanor. When he was gone John Sykes began to pace the ficor with long strides. Brodsky and I watched him in silence. Pres ently he wheeled and came up to us. "You see my wife's name has be said "Only 50 cents." She looked at the ticket, she looked at the clock. The hour was early, it was her favorite opera, the best num bers were yet to come and here was a ticket cheap. She opened her purse, then principle triumphed. "No," she shouted, "I will not buy from a speculator-on-any-terms," and march on. That's heroism. The Snake and the Eggs. A gentleman living in Rhodesia tells a wonderful story ct some eggs that were hatched after having been swal come a byword of village gossip," he exclaimed angrily. "Evidently in her infatuation she has lost all sense of fear. As likely as not she is even now planning a return trip to the mansion. I have no criticism to make of her," he went on brokenly. "It is my broth er who has first robbed me of my in heritance and then of the only woman I have loved. May they be ac cursed-" "Stop!" said Brodsky, laying his hand restrainingly upon the young man's shoulder. "It will be time to ac cuse her when you know. At present you know nothing." John Sykes looked at him incredu lously. "Do you mean-that there can be any hope?" he whispered hoarsely. "Do you think she is innocent?" "I believe in all women as long as J. can," said Brodsky simply. Nevertheless, looking into his face, I read the struggle which he was un dergoing against the weight of the evi dence. And suddenly the young man collapsed into a chair and buried his face in his hands. He pulled a locket from his breast, opened it, and pressed his lips to the inside. Then he held it up to us. "Look at it," he whispered. "Look at her face and say what you can read there." It was the miniature of a young wo man. She was strikingly beautiful, even in this land of beautiful women; but what held and fascinated the ob server was the quality of innocence and purity that seemed to shine through the external features, as a light in a lamp. The artist had done his work surpassingly well. I stole a glance at Brodsky; his brow had cleared. "I believe in her," he said agaia. "And I think before the night has gone your fears and doubts will have been dispelled. Courage, friend. And now let us have supper, for the physi cal condition has a powerful reaction upon the spirits." it was a mournful supper in the de serted inn. Brodsky was at his best. He kept us amused with countless an ecdotes of his own life. I had never known how much he had undergone, what he had seen, now tramping through Europe as a penniless stu dent, now taking a leading part in the battle for Polish freedom; anon, im prisoned in the underground dungeon of St. Peter and St. Paul, escaping in a workman's clothes and working his way to America as a sailor under the noses of the Russian marine officers. But, though once or twice our com panion's face lit up and he smiled faintly, it was evident that he was al most overwhelmed by the tragedy that had come into his life. No further reference was made to the engagement of the evening, but we sat there, smoking and talking, and listening to Brodsky, until ten strokes rang out from the old-fash ioned clock in the corner. Then, with a deep sigh, the young man rose and led the way out into the darkness of the fall evening. At the end of the street the large bulk of the mansion appeared, cutting off the view beyond with its great mansard roof and out buildings, of which the Sykes cottage seemed to form a part. Even as we looked, a light went out suddenly in a lower window, to reappear shortly afterward immediately overhead. The master of the mansion had retired to his room. As we passed silently down the deserted street I caught the faint reflection from the light above the door of the inn as it struck upon some rounded, metallic thing which the young man was .fingering. It was a pistol. On the way I contrived to snatch a fleeting word with Brodsky. "Doctor," I said, "you are abetting a murder." "No," he answered me, "I am say lowed by a large snake. The reptile -a fine specimen of the banded cobra -somehow - got into a henhouse, where an old hen was sitting on a number of eggs. The hen, with much cackling and bustle, flew off in terror, and the snake proceeded to devour the whole of the eggs. The owner of the hen-house, hearing the bird's cries, came up and shot the reptile as it was resting after its meal; and when the creature was cut open, immediately after, it was found that nine of the eggs, having been swallowed whole, ung a woman's name and her h s band's happiness." We halted at a side door and wait ed. After quite an interval the butler came out and admitted us. He led the way on tiptoe, we following with in finite precautions, along a corridor, .up some carpeted stairs, and out upon the dimly lit circle of an old picture gal lery, where generations of the Sykes family looked out gravely from their heavily gilded frames. The sight aroused the young man to a frenzy of passion. This was the inheritance of which he had been defrauded! I saw him shake as with an ague, saw his fingers tighten convulsively upon the handle of his pistol; then I saw Brod sky's restraining arm encircle his shoulders and steady him. The little drama was enacted in perfect silence. We crouched down at the edge of the platform, below which we could see the passages of the rambling old struc ture radiating away on three sides as spokes of a wheel. And we waited, shivering, there, none speaking, only gluing our eyes upon the distant end of the corridor which led toward the wing of the mansion which Philip Sykes occupied. The butler had slipped away, but John had forgotten him. Eleven o'clock boomed out from a deep-sounding clock; the air grew chilly. I shivered. I looked at Brod sky. He was watching every move ment of his patient, his hand, alert and sinuous, seemingly ready to leap forth to restrain him from any deed of rashness. But John was' oblivious to both of us also; he fingered his pis tol and knelt there watching, watch ing Crouching there, we three seemed to have become actors in some horrible drama that was being enacted for the benefit of those rows of silent ghosts, those family ancestors of dead and gone Sykes, looking out, starched and bewigged, from their gold frames, which were so faintly illuminated by the dull light of the low ,gas jets that the painted figures seemed to stand out as in a stereoscope, to have the versimilitude of living men. I must have become half hypnotized by the suspense of watching. My mind slipped away from the work that was at hand; I was living over my life again in other places, thinking of the past, of the ambitions and aspirations with which I had started out on my career, of my strange meeting with Brodsky, of a thousand things . . . Suddenly I felt Brodsky's fingers tighten upon my sleeve. I glanced along the distant corridor. My heart bounded in my breast and seemed to stand still. For there, emerging from out the gloom, clothed in a misty gar ment, her head covered with a filmy veil, was a woman that glided toward us as no human, waking being moves, the eyes fixed and trance-like. For all the dimness and the distance I knew her. It was the woman of the mini ature. Brodsky recognized her too, and the young man. I saw his figure stiffen; every mus cle in his body became as i taut as steel. He crouched there, vatching her, upon his face an aspect of horror and hatred terrible to witness. The figure approached us; now it was di rectly under us and had not seemed to notice us. Suddenly his hand shot out; I saw the gleam of the pistol. Then, still more quickly, I saw Brod sky's arm dart forward, and an instant later the heivy report of the discharge went echoing through the half-empty house, arousing a' thousand echoes among the rafters. I was upon my feet and Brodsky was pulling at my sleeve. "Follow me," he cried. "To the cottage!" He dragged me after him, and the young man followed us. I moved as thobgh in a dream, under Brodsky's compulsion; but, though we ran like the wind, John Sykes easily out stripped us. I knew what passion I winged his speed. Overhead we heard noises andJ movement. Shouts were borne after us. \' N1 /ii, I ": "This way," cried the doctor, as I halted, confused, in the middle of the winding galleries. He pulled me toward the door. Another moment and we were outside, pressing the yielding turf beneath our feet. We ran round the house and darted toward the cot tage, John Sykes ahead of us, the pis tol still clenched in his hand. From the right' we heard the sound of a man running. At the very door of the cottage Philip Sykes broke out upon us; the brothers recognized each oth er, and, as Philip drew back in amaze ment, John leaped at him, bearing him down upon the threshold, striving to free his right arm to gain pistol van tage. Philip perceived the peril and fough desperately for life. John's hand was upon his throat, his brother' grasp relaxed; another instant and all still remained unbroken. They were taken out, rinsed with warm water, and put back in the nest. The hen at once began to sit again as if noth ing had happened, and in a short time the eggs were hatched, the chickens proving quite healthy and unharmed by the strange experience of their ear ly homes. Women Talk in Wireless. Quite abreast of the times is the Principia, a co-educational college in St. Louis, where wireless telegraphy is included in its curriculum. would have been over. But even at the moment of his triumph he stopped dead and staggered backward. For the door had opened, and there, confront ing us, fully attired, a lantern in her hand, her eyes wide witn suspense and terror, was the lady of the miniature And thg three waited motioules~ as figures carved out of stone, till Brod. sky stepped up and broke the silence. He took the pistoi from John Sykes' unresisting hand. "Let us go in and talk over the mat ter," he said. If tears are akin to laughter, trag edy is surely akin to comedy. For hours, as it seems to me now, the four of them sat in the little cottage parlor, laughing incoherently, listening at first incredulously to the account that Brodsky unfolded. For the merest chance words let drop by John Sykes during theit first interview had set him upon the track of 'his daring hypothesis, which he had co::rageous ly verified, even at the risk of murder. Afterward they began to believe. I am not sure that Philip Sykes believes it yet; as for John, his joy at the res toration of his confidence in the lady drowned all baser emotions of rage or resentment. For, whatever other ex planation there might have been, he knew that his wife could not possibly have been inside his brother's house in person, when she had met him at his own door. "I was not sure until the end that my hypothesis was correct," said Brod sky. "But it was your statement of the sentimental regard which Mrs. Sykes felt for the old mansion, and her deep disappointment at the loss of it, that put me upon the track. Do you recollect the tenth commandment, which begins: 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's house?' Many people have wondered at 'the inclusion of so comparatively-as it seems-venial a sin among those of theft-and murder. "Yet, like most things, that com mandment exists with very good rear son, for undoubtedly the Great Law giver was acquainted with the physi cal results of spiritual things. There was a ghost in the mansion." He turned to Mrs. Sykes. "Have you not dreamed of it continually?" he asked. "Often and often ' she answered. "You were the ghost," said Brodsky. "It was you, who by the strength of your longing, were nightly transplant ed there. You were there in spirit, but not in body, when we watched in the gallery. And had that pistol bul let pierced through your ghostly form it would have killed you none the less surely, so intimately associated are the body and that psychical envelope which men miscall the soul, which is the body of desires and emotions. And unless you can overcome this longing; I confess I fear that you will continue to haunt the mansion." "I shall haunt it no more," replied Mrs. Sykes, laughing. "My brotherin. law was willing long ago to dispose of it to my husband." "Indeed, I have been most anxioue to do so," said Philip, "but my broth er, who has inherited the Sykes tem per, refused all overtures for reconcili ation until your happy intervention this evening. But now I shall insist upon his taking ihe place oft my hands upon any terms he will accept, for I confess I am a practical sort of man and don't want to be troubled by ghosts, even when they are the per. sonal property of a very charming and newly-discovered sister-in-law." The Frank Cabby. Miss Maud Allan, the well-known dancer, said on the L.sitania, apropos of comic valentines: "They are too frank, and frankness is a bad thing. There is nothing more dangerous than to encourage it. "A prince in London last year went about incog. You'd see him chatting with a waiter in Frascati's, or playing dominoes at the Cafe Royal, or argu ing heatedly with a cabman over a shilling fare. "Prince X., feeling very good one night after supper, said to his cab man, as he paid the reckoning: "'Do you know this Prince X., cabby?' "'Yes, yer honor,' the cabby an swered, touching his hat. "'Well, what sort of a chap is he?' "'Why, sir,' said the cabby, 'some says as he's a goJA 'un, and some says as he's a bad 'un, but I say he's only a bass.'" The "Apaches." The name Apache was applied first to a tribe of the North American In dians owing their origin to the Atha pascans. It is a tribal name that harks back far into the ding past of the red man. A good many years ago the police department of Paris found itself in daily conflict with certain semi-or ganized bands of youthful vagabonds and ruffians who gave no end of trou ble by their thieving depredations. They have their counterparts in large cities by way of the tough gangs of boys and young men who revel in end less warfare with law and order as represented by the police. These Parisian bands soon came to call themselves the "Apaches," and from all accounts they are worthy of the name. They belong to the under ground world of Paris, where every vice and crime is bred and nurtured. Ban on Use of Wireless. Great Britain has forbidden all ves sels, British as well as of other na tionalities, from using their wireless apparatus in the harbor of Gibraltax except by permission of the gdvernor. Strictly Nautical. Mrs. Hoyle.-My husband is a man of queer tastes. Mrs. Doyle.-How so? Mrs. Hoyle.-A schooner looks bet ter to him than a whole naval parade. The instructors claim (entirely without intimating that women are especially clever at methods of ex pressing their thoughts) that the girls show unusual facility in mastering the code. They are being taught the use and the reason for the use of each in strument. Their wireless station is complete in every detail and messages can be sent from St. Louis 250 miles -nearly to Kansas City. This is probably the only school in this sec tion of the country which boasts a course of wireless telegraphy. A FILLIP IN SFUTURES This is not to prove that Lysdon is eccentric. He isn't. Concentric might hit the mark, for-but we'll drop that. There's no telling where a long-handled word will lead one. He was out of money on a certain date-almost as penniless as a beg gar; and he fell back on his wits to make good, which he did. Straightest fellow in Seldridge college, Lysdon was; there's no disputing that. Lysdon's remaining two months in college he looked forward to with real pleasure, but the string of bills at tached to the finish made the corners of his mouth drop to an angle of 45 de grees. That facial expression, however, fled from his countenance like frost before a summer sun when the idea lodged in his brain. It took ten min utes to put it in printable shape. It read like this: "Wanted-Philanthropic person to drop a fat pocket book on the streets of Forreston and permit me to find it and claim reward. I need it. Worthy Young Man, Box 92, Herald." The thing done, he hurried it off to the Herald office, took supper at a cheap restaurant, returned to his room and pored over his books till midnight, then rolled into bed and slept like a log. Of course, box 92 wasn't. neglected for a day or two. Lysdon had hoped for an early reply, and was inclined to be disappointed after three days had elapsed without a response. The fourth day proved a lucky one. He opened his letter eagerly, but the only happy thing about it was that no one was present to see the chagrin that spread over his face. The single parar graph ran as follows: "Would gladly accommodate you, but I dropped my purse some time ago, and it made such a noise that it open ed the eyes of a blind beggar, who seized it and ran off with it. He hasn't returned it." This was a sample of a half dozen that found their way into box 92 in the next forty-eight hours. Lysdon was settling down to the conclusion that the plan was doomed to failure, when i a tastefully addressed envelope found its way to his table. With a new cour age he made out these words: "Dear Sir-In accordance with your request, I will drop my purse at the corner of Castle avenue and Third street, Wednesday, the 2d inst., at 4:15 p. m.. Fifty dollars reward if safely returned to 11 Ashelot avenue be fore 7:30 p. m. Failure on your part will be serious. Miss McK-" For Lysdon, the remainder of that Wednesday was full of interest-an interest that grew ins proportion as the interval to the appointed hour di minished. A wide margin before the time ar rived he was sauntering resolutely past the specified corner, his eyes never omitting a movement of the pe destrians that hurried past the place. There was a ladies' wallet directly under his face and eyes, but how it got there was a mystery he didn't wait to solve. r Quickly seizing the purse, he went down the street, too much dazed to voluntarily direct his steps. Collecting his scattered wits, he found his way to his room, and threw the thing on the table and himself on a chair. His curiosity soon got the better of his inertness when he re called that he had neglected Fto open the find. Pulling it open, he brought to light a fragment of embroidered work, and a diminutive scrap of paper on which was penciled: "Remember the hour 7:30." Nothing more. It was enough-esufficient. Quickly responsive to his ring, a smiling young lady opened the door. "You are the worthy young man?" she decided, before he had time to speak. "You are so prompt. It would have helped me out finely if my plans hadn't gone wrong." "Your plans?" "Yes;" she admitted, a twinkle in her eye. "You see, we were going to have a curiosity party, and I was go ing to introduce you as my offering. Of course, it's all too ridiculous' for anything; but your ad. struck me as so odd I simply couldn't resist But the party has fallen through at the last moment. Wait a moment and I'll get your, reward." "Wait!" broke out Lysdon. "It's a' poor conundrum that hasn't two solu tions. Listen to mine. "I don't need the reward-" "Then why your advertisement in the Herald?" "Well, what I really wanted was an excuse, and-" "An excuse!" echoed the girl. "I don't understand. I'm afraid I'm com promising myself by listening to this." "Not at all," answered Lysdon. "I've a few weeks more in college, and I promised the old man I wouldn't send for any more funds to carry me through. I've tried my best, but it won't hold out. That ad. was Just a -diversion. Now as to the excuse; I've missed your party; why not you take in mine?" "Your party? I know of no such event." "It's like this," Lysdon went on briskly; "the old folks live at Ledg mont-eslx miles beyond the car line. I'll phone to Tenny to run down wbth the auto and I'll take you out to dine with mother and myself. That will be a working excuse. I'll get the money, Shall I phone at once?" The party of the second part rum inated a moment. "Yes," she decided. A Proof of Genlus. "TIhe author of genius," said William' Dean Howells, at a dinner in New York, "expresses the thoughts of his time. He speaks out those things that his generation has all along been think ing--but thinking silently and, pe haps, a little mistily. "An author of transcendent eniaus speaks the thought of all time. For ex* ample-One summer at Shmnapee I loaned a volume of Plato to a lean, shrewd farmer. When the volume was returned I said: "'Well, how did you like Plato?" " 'Fast rate,' the farmer ansswe.... ' see he's got some oat my .~ie."