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FINGER MARKS OF CRIMINALS LIFELONG AIDS TO THEIR DETECTION. Individual Finger Marks Permanent Through Life-Adoption of System for Identification of V. S. Soldiers and Sailors. A few weeks ago Inspector McLaughlin of the New York City De tective Bureau received remarkable evidence of the value of thumb-print identification. A letter was brought to him through the mails from London containing the picture and record of a noted criminal whose thumb-print, with his name and description, was sent to London to test the efficiency of this new method of recording dis tinguishing marks of criminals. By means of the thumb-print alone, the English police identified the criminal capturjH by the New \ork police, whose record in England includes eight Imprisonments on charges of larceny. The prisoner was caught by Inspector McLaughlin in the corridor of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in April. There were no charges against him in this country at the time, hut the Inspector decided that his captive was an En glish “crook.” It was found that two ; patrons of the hotel had been robbed I and the prisoner was detained for a | thorough investigation of his case, j Meanwhile the Inspector sent the thumb-print to London and the reply brought a photograph of the “crook" and a duplicate photograph of his thumb-print and his record. THE RERTILLON SYSTEM. For some time the criminal bureaus of prominent cities have been using the Bertillon measurement system which also Includes making two pho tographs of the suspicious character, hut the French system and photo graphy have fallen short in many cases, as a scheming criminal can adopt various subterfuges to cheat the law. but there is no way of changing the character of bis thumb-print, for there are no two people whose thumbs are exactly alike, and each person has his own individual thumb-print whose character remains tiie same from the day of birth to the end. OLD AS TIIE HILLS. There is nothing really new in this mode of identification, as from time Immemorial the Chinese have known MAONIFIED THUMB MARK SHOWING DISTINGUISHED LINES.* the fact that every man carries on his finger-tips the proofs of his identity, and passports in the Celestial land have consisted of a government stamped piece of oil paper on which the traveler has to record his digital marks before setting forth on his journey. So in India, where deeds transferring land have for centuries past been signed among the illiterate peasantry by a thumb-mark. W ithin recent years the government of In dia has extended this native custom to postoffioe savings bank books, mili tary and civil pension certificates, emigrants’ contracts, mortgages on growing crops, and other transactions where false personation has to be guarded against or an authenticated acknowledgment of money received has to be made. Naturally, also, the system was promptly adopted for the Identification of criminals, and it was an Indian police officer, E. R. Henry, Inspector-general of police in Bengal, who carried to England his exj>eri euces in the (work, and when appointed ALIKE. chief commissioner of police in Lon don. introduced the method into New Scotland Yard. FINGER PRINTS NEVER CHANGE. Finger-marks continue permanent through life. Injuries may partially destroy them, but as the injury heals the original lines reassert themselves as before. In growing youth the ball of the finger enlarges; so does the pat tern, but its distinctive tracings are absolutely unchanged, whereas the Bertillon method is applicable only to adults, when bone measurements have become fixed. Yet youthful criminals, for their own sake, as well as for society’s are .worth watching at every stage of their career, and the finger print system is the only means of identification yet devised that makes this practicable. Not only is it virtually impossible that any man’s ten finger-prints, one after the other, should resemble in mere general mathematical form each of those of another man, the chance against any such coincidence being calculated by Professor Francis Gal ton, the eminent anthropologist and mathematician, as one hundred and sixty-four million against one, but it is equally impossible that any two finger-prints should be identical in every detail. Recently the United States govern ment has also adopted the thumb print system for identification of the sailors and soldiers in service, as this might become useful not only in cases of desertion, but also to more readily identify the bo.*es of those who have fallen on the field of battle. SHERLOCK HOLMES. (Continned from prpeeedlng page>. what I should do if some sporting kind of publisher were suddenly to stride in and make me n bid of forty shil lings or so for the lo‘ •• When the book at last fell into the hands of Mr. Andrew Lang, then acting for Messrs. Longmans, Green & Company, the success of Mlcah Clarke was assured, and its author’s literary career placed on a firmer footing. The “Sign of the Four” followed in 1881), in which story Sherlock Holmes, who had made his bow to the public in “A Study in Scarlet.” reappeared and increased Dr. Doyle's rising reputation. His hci.rt, however, was in the historical novel, and In 1890 he followed up the success of Micah with “The White Company,” in the preparation of which be read one hundred and fifteen volumes, French and English, dealing with the fourteenth century in England. His delight in the work is expressed in his own words: “To write such books,” he once said, speaking of Micah Clarke and The White Company, “one must have an enthusiasm for the age about which he is writing. He must think it a great one, and then he must go de liberately to work and reconstruct it. Then is "his a splendid Joy.” STUDY IN SCARLET FOR $125.00. However, Dr. Doyle may prefer to write historical romances, and what ever his personal estimate of his great detective may be. the fact remains that in Sherlock Holmes he has created a character whose exploits are as familiar as household words, and who has entered into the very fibre of Anglo-Saxon life and literature. It is actually said that at times Dr. Doyle lias expressed a wish that T V. Watson bad never met Sherlock Holmes. It is on record that be thought so 'little of “A Study in Scar let.” the story in which Sherlock Holmes first appeared, that he sold it outright for $125. The value of Sher lock Holmes has gone up since those days, however. Dr. Doyle acknowledges some in debtedness to Dupin, the detective in Poe’s short stories, “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” and “The Purloined Letter.” This is the more interesting for the reason that in “A Study in Scarlet,” Slierlock Holmes is made to speak rather contemptuously of Dupin’s skill and acumen. To quote Dr. Doyle again: “In work which con sists in the drawing of detectives there are only one or two qualu s which one can use, and an author is forced to hark back upon them con stantly, so that every detective must really resemble every other detect • to a greater or less extent. There is no great originality required In de vising or constructing such a man, and the only possible originality which one can get into a story about a detec tive is in giving him original plots and problems to solve, as in bis equip ment there must be of necessity an alert acuteness of mind to grasp and the relation which each of them bears to the other.” CONSTRUCTION OF SHERLOCK. Dr. Doyle went to work, therefore, to build up a scientific system in which everything might be logically reasoned out. Where Sherlock Holmes differed from bis predecessors w;.s that he had an immense fund of exact knowledge upon which to draw, in consequence of his previous scientific education. He was practical, he was sy ematic, lie was logical, and his success in tiie detection of crime was to * > the result, not of chance or luck, but of bis characteristic qualities. “With this idea,” says Dr. Doyle, “I wrote a book on the lines I have indicated, and produced ‘A Study in Scarlet,’ That was the first appearance of Sher lock: but he did not arrest ranch at tention. and no one recognize! him as being anything in particular. About three years later, howe r, I was asked to do a small shilling book for Llppincott’s Magazine, which pub lishes, as you know, a complete story In each number. I didn’t know what to write about, and the thought oc curred to me. ‘Why not try to rig up the same chap again?’ I did it, and the result was ‘The Sign of the Four.’ Although the criticisms were frvor able, 1 don’t think that even then Sher lock attracted much attention to his Individuality,” But this shows Mr. Doyle’s modesty. GET INTO GOOD COMPANY. ♦- We are preparing for publica tion in this Magazine Section a treat for our readers, and will very shortly present to you that most Interesting novel of Sir A. Conan Doyle's, “ THE WHITE COMPANY,” ftill of excitement and adventure, with a pretty love story running through it, which ends "just right” and leaves everybody feeling good. JOIN US NOW AND GET READY FOR THE OPENING CHAPTERS. In spite of all the talk and rumpus in the House of Representatives over an attempt to eliminate the free seed farce, with Its attendant enormous expenditure, when it came to a yea and nay rote of the members a big majority stood in favor of the appropriation. Each year congress creates a diversion by inveighing against the proposition, and then enthusiastically votes It into the agricultural bill. riTO Parmanentlr Oared, No fits ornervoasness alter (I I O first day’s nee of Dr. Kline’s Great Nerve Re storer. Send for FRER <5.00 trial bottle and treatise. OB- H. B. KUNS, Ltd., 831 Arch SC. Philadelphia, Pa. Crocuses in March, BY EDITH DOANB. “Anne! Whatever in the world—” The speaker, her fur coat white with snow, stood transfixed in the doorway. “Crocuses"’ she gasped. “Crocuses — in early March—with the snow outside an inch deep and more to follow! Cro cuses " Words failing her, she stepped inside the heavy curtains and regarded the scene before her with astonished eyes. It was a pretty room and long, with a blazing fire ot pine logs at one end; a room that bespoae warmth and home and comfort. But the newcomer saw none of these. It was the mahogany table in the centre at which she gazed hypnotically, where masses of yellow crocuses glowed in reckless prolusion. They raised tremendous goiuen heads from a big brass bowl; they nodded from long, slender vases; they flamed over the edges of a pewter jug in riot ous confusion. The girl standing beside the table poked the last slender green stalk into place, and, stepping bacn, regarded her work with fine triumph, fche turned a flushed face toward the doorway. “The only trouble,” she said, impres sively, “will be to make him believe they grew.” “Grew?" “Yes, grew, naturally,” with a vague wave of her hand in the direction of the window and the softly whirling flakes outside. “He won’t believe it.” ■ Who won’t believe it?” “He has the crocus hobby as seriously as daddy, and they kept at it until in a moment of wild enthusiasm Daddy in sisted that his crocus came up in March, Once ” apologetically—“we did have a crocus the last day of March.” “But who ” began Dora again. “Daddy saw he doubted it, but he didn’t care, for by that time he had be gun to believe it himself; so when he said he was coming to New York in March he invited him out, insisted, set the date and all. This is the date, and,” Anne dimpled, “here are the crocuses.” “Anne,” insisted her chum, firmly, “wall you please stop saying ‘he’ and ‘him’ and tell me who and what you are talking about?” “John Rexall,” essayed Anne. “The man daddy met in camp and liked so well that he chummed with him, even though he shot more game than daddy did himself. He has money and good looks and ” “Crocuses,” suggested Dora. Anne dimpled again. “If only I could make him believe they really grew!” The door at the further end of the room opened to admit a gray-haired man, rugged but kindly featured, who came down the room, watch in hand. Anne smiled at him across the crocuses. “You may just as well put that watch out of sight,” she cried, as she placed a bow r l of flowers on the piano. “No more calls to-night. Daddy, in this storm, and ‘company cornin’,’ too.” Slipping her arm through her father’s she led him close to the nodding blos soms. “Pretty fine crocuses —for March," she said, her eyes dancing with mischief, as she reached up and be stowed a kiss upon him so vigorous as to leave him very little breath for pro test. Dr. Nelson pretended great in dignation. “Tut! tut! It isn’t fair to take advantage of an old man,” he chuckled, but his eyes were full of ten derness as Anne laid her cheek softly against his. “You remember Milligan, the flag man?” Dr. Nelson said at last, again glancing at his watch. Anne nodded. “He has been seriously hurt—is dying. I must go at once. I shall be late.” “There is always somebody ” be gan Anne. “Exactly!” Dr. Nelson thrust his watch back into his pocket and smiled at her disappointed face. “Explain it to John Rexall, and take good care of him. With him to look after you I shall not worry as to your safety.” And with a quick goodby he was gone. The sound of his departing horses’ hoofs had hardly died away when John son appeared with a telegram. “For de doctah. Miss Anne,” he an nounced. Anne took the envelope from the out stretched tray and opened it. “Whom is it from?” queried Dora. Anne twisted the missive into a little yellow ball and threw it defiantly among the crocuses. “It is from Mr. John Rexall,” she an swered, with as much indignation as if that young man had just been con victed of some heinous crime, “and it says that great and august personage is delayed by the storm and will not be here to-night.” “And you will be left alone ” “There are the servants, I do not mind,” returned Anne. “But this house is so isolated and the grounds so large,” Dora deliberated. “I will send Tom over to stay with you,” she announced, with the relief of one who has solved a knotty problem. Anne protested faintly. “Yes, I will,” Dora insisted. “He is only eighteen, but he will be company.” “Of course I should like it,” agreed Anne. Dora swept a parting glance over the room. On every side flowers gleamed In yellow splendor, “When I consider these wasted March crocuses,” began Dora. Anne giggled. “And the florist’s bill for the same.” At this Dora gave way and relapsed into a helpless fit of laughter, where upon Anne laughed, too, half hysterical ly, helpless to stop herself —laughed un til the crocuses shook in their tall vases —and both girls sank into chairs, laugh ing and breathless. “It’s a judgment—because I wanted him to believe—they grew,” cried Anne, wiping her eyes. An hour later Anne descended the wide, open staircase. Her trailing gown hung in soft, straight lines; a row of tiny pearls clasped her throat; some crocuses were tucked in her belt, and one crocus nestled in her hair. At the bottom step Johnson waited. “Gentleman to see you. Miss Anne. I done put him in de library.” “What is his name?” “I disremembered to ask him his name. He said yo* ‘all was expectin' him.” Her face cleared; Tom, of course. Only the firelight illuminated the li brary, casting flickering, ruddy rays upon the slender figure that came slow ly toward the centre of the room; a very sweet and attractive figure, indeed. It seemed to the eyes of the man standing waiting in the shadow. Nearer and nearer she came, and the man stepped forward, offering his hand in easy, pleasant greeting, and then stood spell bound. A vision In soft shimmering white pressed close to his side —his hand, his arm, was grasped in a warm though unmistakable hug. “You were a dear, good boy to come,” the vision said. “I ” he began helplessly. The next moment an embarrassed young man faced an equally embar rassed young woman with crimson cheeks and indignant eyes. “Why didn’t you speak?” she de manded wrathfully. “I thought it was Tom.” She stopped in a vain search for words with which to annihilate this presuming Interloper. “You know I thought you were Tom,” she added In dignantly. “Would that 1 were,** fervently thought the new cdmer. Curiosity tempered the wrath in Anne’s eyes as she raised them to the face above her. The face of a gentle man, evidently—and extremely good to look at. Just now amusement strug gled with admiration in the clear-cut features, as he stepped forward and again held out his hand. “Please forgive me,” he began, quite as contritely as if he really were to blame. “I did not know —it was so insufferably stupid of me—He stopped. (“You are altogether charm ing,” said his eyes.) Anne’s face softened. “I am sure Dr. Nelson will intercede for me,” he went on, pursuing his ad vantage. Anne smiled. “Dr. Nelson is not at home. I am his daughter,” she said simply. “Then we are already old friends,” declared the man eagerly. “In camp last September your father—but first allow me to present myself. I am ” “Mistah Rexall,” announced Johnson, at the library door, bowing pompously as he held aside the hangings to admit a slender, dark-eyed man, who ad vanced a step into the room and then stood uncertainly in the dim light. The surprise on Anne’s face was equaled by that of the man beside her. He turned with a quick start, glanced sharply at the newcomer, then stood motionless in the shadow. With a most unreasonable sense of disappointment Anne advanced to wel come the new arrival. “Father will be delighted. He has counted so on your coming—wo were quite distressed over your telegram. So glad you managed to get here after all.” She forced herself to the usual conventionalities. So this was John Rexall. this man, whom she instinctively dreaded —per- haps it was the flickering firelight that that shifting gleam to his eyes. She touched a bell. “A light, John son,” she commanded, half nervously. “Mr. Rexall, allow me to present ” Her words trailed off into amazed si lence. The room behind her was empty. A door closing softly at the further end where the erstwhile admirer had gone. One o’clock chimed the tiny time piece on the mantel. Outside the sound was repeated somewhere in the dis tance to graver, deeper tones. Anne shivered. Two hours had passed since the household had settled into silence, but so far no sleep had come to her eyes. She had not even undressed, but still sat upon the hearth rug in front of the fire in her cozy bedroom, staring into the glowing coals. It was dreary waiting, but some vague fear had kept her awake, hop ing nervously for her father’s return, listening anxiously for the first sound of his horses’ hoofbeats on the gravel outside. Indeed, if he did not come soon she had the horrible conviction that she would scream. In vain she tried to reason it away, sitting, her face in her hands, her eyes on the clear glowing coals. What matter if she in stinctively distrusted the man her fa ther had found companionable? Was that such an extraordinary thing? What if the man she had found con genial—“for you know you did like him,” she said to herself, “even if you did ” Here her cheeks supported by the slim hands grew unaccountably hot. What if this man had chosen to take his departure suddenly? Was that so strange? He had come to see her father, and she herself told him that her father was not at home. But reason as she might, the vague misgiving remained. At the sound of the clock she shivered slightly, and getting up from her lowly position she drew back the curtains of her window. The storm had ceased, and the snow lay lightly on branch and wall; the night was brilliant with moon light, clear as day, full of hallowed softness. She stood for a while, spellbound by the glory of the scene before her, then turned again toward the fire. The crocuses she had worn that evening in her belt, now lying wilted on her dress ing table, caught her eye. “I forgot to look at the flowers —if the fire dies down the library will be too cold for them. I will attend them now; anything is better than waiting here.” She left her room and walked swiftly along the hall, her soft slippers making no sound on the floor. As she reached the staircase a little sensation of fear ran through her; she hastened her footsteps and ran hurried ly along the lower hall, .’ hich was al most as light as day. It was the eerie time of ’night. Not until she -was close to the library did she notice a tiny gleam of light creeping from beneath the door. “Johnson has left a light for daddy,” she thought, going steadily on and de cidedly cheered by the thought that gloom did not await her. Pushing open the door very gently, she entered the room. At first the light dazzled her sight. She advanced a few steps, unconscious ly treading lightly, as she had done all along, lest she would wake some mem ber of the household, and then, pass-, ing her hand over her eyes, looked leis urely up. The fire was nearly out. She turned her head, and then —then —she uttered a faint scream and grasped the back of a chair to steady herself. With his back to her—all unaware of Even an expert cannot distinguish by its appearance roasted Java from Bra zilian Coffee. Then how can you know that you get your money’s worth when you buy loose grocery-store coffee on looks and the price mark ? You don’t know, and the grocer does not know, for “cup’’quality is not visible to the eye, and he cannot show it to you. Refuse loose scoop coffee ! You may be sure that all coffee deteriorates when ex posed to *tEe air, and is easily contamT Sued by dust and impurities. You will find it to your advantage to buy from us direct if your grocer refuses to supply Arbuckles’ Ariosa Coffee. For yourprotection to positively in sure you full purity and the best coffee value for your money, Arbuckles’ Ariosa Coffee is sold in sealed one pound packages only. As the largest coffee dealers in the world, with a busi ness exceeding any four other coffee dealers, we can and do give better coffee than can be bought elsewhere for any thing like the same price—in proof of which the sales of Ariosa for 37 years her entrance—a bull's-eye lantern throwing: its powerful rays on the floor beside him —knelt the late arrival —her father’s friend—before her father’s safe. Facing her, beside a window, from whose curtained recesses he had evi dently just stepped, covering the other with the point of a gleaming pistol-bar rel, stood her nameless cavalier of the early evening. His eyes, bright and steady, were immovably fastened on the man before him. “Hands up!” he said. An inarticulate sound came from the other man’s throat; his face grew livid. He flung up his hands, palm outward. “Who the devil are you?” he cried, be neath his teeth. . His eyes were fixed ■with deadly hatred upon his foe. For a moment no sound but that of the falling embers of the dying fire dis turbed the stillness that reigned within the library. Anne stood motionless, her heart thumping wildly, wondering what the end would be. Then, suddenly the si lence was broken by the distant sound of horses’ roofs coming nearer. A noise of wheels on the gravel outside, a quick-spoken order to the driver, and someone came along the porch, through the hall and into the room. Anne gave a quick little cry of relief and joy. “Daddy!” she cried. He stopped in amazement, looking from the men to Anne, and then from Anne back to the men. The nameless one did nut relax his vigil. He was rather pale, but perfectly self-possessed, and kept his eyes on the man before him, but at Anne’s glad cry of “Dad dy!” a slight smile crossed his face. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, across the grim quiet of that awful silence came an unmistakable Chuckle, and the doctor’s voice: “Nothing surprising, Rexall. I warned you things were pretty lively here —In March.” • ••••• The day, begun so strenuously, was fast drawing to an end. The shadow’s closed softly in on the white world out side; inside the bright light of the great pine fire streamed cheerily over the room. Anne tucked herself comfortably in one corner of the huge Davenport. “If this thing keeps up much longer,” she announced, dramatically, “I shall lose my voice.” “As bad as that?” laughed John Rex all. “Every bit. This last harrowing re cital to Tom makes the third since luncheon. “I can understand,” she went on, re flectively, “that that man might have gotten hold of your telegram in some way, either at the station or on the road, and so discovered that you w’ere expected and delayed, and in that way conceived the idea of impersonating you. That part is clear enough. But what I cannot understand is how he knew we did not know you by sight.” “His face was familiar. I have seen him somewhere before. Probably he was hanging around the camp last fall, and judged I would know only the doc tor. He had to take some risks —prob- ably conceived the whole idea at once when he saw the doctor leave. Sort of ‘spontaneous inspiration,’ as it were.” “His weak point! was in not knowing you had come.” “He did not know It at first. I fancy he had a fairly clear idea of my pres ense later in the game.” “But is he ” “Never mind him now,” he pleaded. “By your own statement you are in danger of losing your voice over him: and I want you to save your voice,” he continued, softly, “for better pur poses.” Anne looked up at him. "Yes?” she queried. • “I want you to save it to talk to me— to promise me something,” he went on, earnestly. A wave of delicate color dyed Anne’s face from brow to chin. Her eyes fell before his. “To let me know you better—to write to me. Then, perhaps, next year, when the crocuses come again, you’ll promise me more—when you know me.” His face w r as very grave. “Well, perhaps,”—Anne’s dimples showed in sudden mischief —“in March.” she added, “when the crocuses come In March—again.”—The Star. SPECTACLES ON TRIAL No Money Required i /<??, We want you to wear a pair of Tru sight Spectacles in your own 'lii&i?rA home 6 days at our, expense. We want you to see the great difference between com- V*\ * A j\ mon glasses such as you now wear and the famous TruslghtX \ \ Spectacles, the marvel of the optician’s art. Thousands of \%\ /r 'yyyt' 5 people who could n be fitted with common glasses have \ \ \ y/A J been fitted with Trusight Spectacles by mall and can now \wK. \ W/w' yS read the smallestprint with ease. It matters not where you live \i“\ YOU CAN TEST YOUR OWN EYES With our Trusight Eye Tester as well as the most skilled optician. ‘‘iffffSy So positive are we that you caasee better with Trusight Spec* r '“ itSLjSl^iOjOT lodes that we offer to send a pair, especially fitted to the eyes. to every reader of this paper on 6 Days Free Trial without one cent In advance — no deposit, not even a reference. If at end of 6 days you like them, send us $1 (our special introductory price). If not, send themiback. We trust you. We couldn’t do this unless we knew the glasses would suit you. Send name and address at once. You have nothing to lose. TRUSIGHT SPECTACLE CO., 647 Eldga Building, KANSAS Cl TY, MO. are greater than the combined sales of all other packaged coffee in the United States. Wherever you may be you get the full advantage of our enormous facilities. By the original “mother’s" process patented by this firm the pores of the coffee bean are hermetically sealed, after roasting, with a coating of fresh eggs and sugar, which preserves intact the delicious flavor and aroma due to our skilled blending and roasting —not to be compared with crude, primitive methods on a smaller scale. We drink Arbuckles’ Ariosa ourselves every day with the best coffee in the world to choose from. If your grocer refuses to sell you Arbuckles’ Ariosa Coffee, send us express or postal money-order for 11.80, and we will send 10 lbs. of Ariosa in a wood box. transportation paid to your freight station. The price of coffee fluctuates— we cannot guarantee the price for any period. 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