Newspaper Page Text
spurred cock and new-hatched « hicken!
tliy lighting days may soon l»e over.'* • lludst ask<d me in the name of charity 1 would have Riven fieely!’* cried Alleyne. "As it stands, not one farthing shall you have with my five will, and when 1 see my broth r. the Socman of Minstend, he will raise hue and cry from vi 11 to vlll, from humlnd to hundred, until you are taken as a common robber and a scourge to the country.” The outlaw sank his club. "The Socman's brother!" he gasped. "Now, by the keys of Peter! 1 hud rather that hand withered and tongue was palsied ere 1 had struck or miscalled y« u. If you are the Socman's brother >ou arc one of the right side, l war rant. for all your clerkly dress.” .“Ills brother 1 am.” replied Alleyne. ‘‘Put even if 1 were not, is that reason why you should molest me on the king’s ground?” "I give not the pip of an apple for king or for noble.” cried the serf passionately. "Ill have I had from them, and ill I shall repay them. 1 am a good friend to my friends, and. I>y th« \ irgin, an evil foemun to my foes." ‘‘And therefore the worst of foeman to thyself,” said Alleyne. "Put I pray you. since you seem to know him, io point out to me th<- shortest path to my brother’s house.” He was following the track, his mis givings increasing with every step which took him nearer to that home which he had never seen, when of a sudden the trees began to thin and the sward to spread out into a broad green lew, where five cows lay In the sun shine and droves of black swine wan dered unchecked. A brown forest stream swirled down the centre of this clearing, with a rude bridge Hung across it. and on the other sid * was a second fi« Id sloping up to a long, low lying wo <: n house, with thatched roof and opt n squares for windows. Al leyne gazed across at it with Hushed cheeks and sparkling eyes f<>r this, he knew, must be the home of his fathers. Alleyne was roused, however, from his pleasant rovery by the sound of volets, and two people emerged from the forest some little way to his right and moved across the field in the di rection of the bridge. The one was a man with yellow flowing beard and very long hair of the same tint droop ing over his shoulders. By his side walked a woman, tall and slight and dark, with lithe graceful figure and clear-cut, composed features. Her Jet JL__ guidon hair, his fierce blue eyes, and hlb large, well-tnark* *1 features, h • was the most comely man whom Al 1* yne had < ver seen; and y» t there was something so sinister and so fell in id ' |expression that child or least might well have shiunk from him. His brows wore drawn, his cheek flushed, and there was a mad sparkle In his eyes " hlch spoke of a wild, untamable nature. “Young fool!" he cried, holding the w< man still to his side, though every line of her shrinking figure spoke her abhorrence. “I redo you to go on your way, lest worse befall you. This little w ench has < omc with me, and with me she shall hide." “I.iar' ' cried the woman; and, stoop ling h< r head, she suddenly hit fiercely Into the broad brown hand which held !*• r. H<- whipped it buck with an oath, while she tore herself free and slipped !>• hind Alleyne, cowering up against him. “Stand off my land!" the man said fiercely, heedless of the blood which trickled freely from his fingers. “What have you to do here? liy your [dress you should be one of those cursed |clerks who overrun th»- land like vile rats, poking and prying into other nien's concerns, too caitiff to light and too lazy to work." “Is this your land, then?" gasped ' Alleyne. I “Would you dispute it, dog? Would you wish by trick or quibble to Juggle me out of these last acres? Know, base-born knave, that you have dared ibis day to stand In the path of one whose race have been the advisers of 1.mgs and the lenders of hosts, ere over this vile cr--w of Norman robbers came Into the land. ..r such half-blood In-iinds as you were let loose to preach that the thief should have his booty I and the honest man should sin If he strove to win back his own." ''Non arc the Socman of Mlnstead!” | “That I sim; and the son of Kdric the Socman, of the pure blood of God I f I * V ti»c thane, by the only daughter I of the house of Alurie, whose fore fathers held the white-horse banner at the fatal fight where our shield was broken and our sword shivered. My folk held this land from Brnmshuw Wood to the Hlngwood road. Begone, I say, and meddle not with my affair!” “If you leave me now.” whispered the woman, “shame forever upon your I manhood!" "Surely, sir,” said Alleyne, speaking in as persuasive and southing a way as he could, "if your birth is gentle, -= house, blowing the whll* upon a shrill whistle. “Come!" gasped the woman "Fly, friend, ere he come baek.” They ran together to the cove- of the woods. As they gained the edge of the brushwood, Alleyne, looking baek, saw his brother come running out of the house again, with the sun gleaming upon his hair and his beard, lie held something which Hashed in his rl ht hand, and he stopped to unloose the black hound. "This way!” the woman whispered, in a low eager voice. “Through the bushes to that forked ash. Do not h« ed me; I can run as fast as you. I trow. Now Into the stream—right in. over ankles, to throw the dog off. As she spoke, she sprang herself Into the shallow stream and ran swiftly up the < < litre of it, with the brow n w ater bubbling over her feet, and h*-r hand outstretched to wurd off the clinging branches of bramble or sapling Al ii yne followed close at her heels, with his mind In a whirl at this black wel come and sudden shifting of all his plans and hopes. Yet, grave as were his thoughts, they would still turn to j wonder as he looked at the twinkling feet of iiis guide and saw her lithe figure bend this way and that, dipping under houghs, springing over stones, with a lightness and ease which made it no small task for him to keep up with her. At last, when he was al most out of breath, she suddenly threw herself dow n upon a mossy bank, I etween two holly-bushes, and looked ruefully at her own dripping feet arid bedraggled skirt. Alleyne, still standing In the stream, glanced down at the graceful plnk and-white figure, the curve of raven black hair, and the proud, sensitive face, which looked up frankly and conii di ntly at his own. “Why did you not kill him?” "Kill him? My brother?” "And why not?”—with a quick gleam of her white teeth. "He would have killed you. I know him, and I read it in his eyes. Had I had your staff I would have tried—aye, and done It. too." Rhe shook her clench'd white hand us she spoke, and her lips tight ened ominously. “I am already sad In heart for what I have done,” said he, sitting down on the bank, and sinking his face Into his hands. “Clod help me! ail that is worst in me seemed to come upper most. Another Instant, and T had smitten him; the son of my own mother, the man whom 1 lrave longed i • IF YOU LEAVE ME NOW, SHAME FOKEVEU UPON YOUR MANHOOD. ® bla^*k hair was £at!u*n d hack under a light |>ink coil, h*T in ml |mis U proudly upon her neck, und her step long and aj ringy, like th.it of some wild tireless woodland creature. Alleyne sto d in the shadow of an oak staring at h> r with parted li j>h. for this woman seemed to him to be the most beauti ful and graceful creature that mind could conceive of. Su< h had he imag ined the angels, but here there was something human, which sent a tingle und thrill through his nerves such as no dream of radiant und stainless spirit had ever yit been able to conjure up. The two walked swiftly ncross the meadow to the narrow bridge, he in fr< nt and she a pace or two behind. There they paused, and stood for a f-vv minutes face to fa< e. talking earnestly. Alleyne had rend and h< ard of love and of lovers. Such were tie •. doubtless— this* golden-bearded t :.r and the fair dams-1 with the cold proud face. Why else should they v .- r together In th<- woods, or be s > lost la talk by rustic streams'* And jet a he watched, uncertain whether t > advance from the cover or to choose r--m* ether path to the house, he so--n f; m<- io doubt the truth of his con jecture, The mart stood, tall and ■‘-diiar-. blocking the entrance to the l ridge, and throwing out his hands as h<- spoke In a wild, eag*r fashion, while the deep tones of his stormy \ dec r- - <* at times Into accents of menn-' arid of anger. She st Kid fear b v In front of him tint twice she thr- a a *--w|ft questioning glance over h< r shoulder, as of one w ho Is in s< ar< h of aid. So moved was the young clerk by these mute appeals, that h< came forth from the trees and cros»- <| the meadow, uneerf in what t « do. and yet loath to hold l- ick fr >m one who might need his aid. So Int'-M were th»y upon each oth r that neither to'-k note of his approach; until, when he was close upon them, the man thr< w his arm roughly round the damsel's waist and drew her toward hm. she straining her lithe supple figure away and striking fiercely at h m. The maid, however, had but little chance against her assailant, who. laughing loudly, (aught her wrist In one hand while he drew h r toward him with the r ther. 'The o» t rope has ever the longest thorns,” paid he. "Quiet, little on*-, or J ou may do yourself a hurt’ Must pay Saxon toll on Saxon land, mv proud Maude, far nil your air-i nn-l graces.* Yotl boor”’ she hissed. "Yott ba«e, underbred clod' Is this your (.ire arid your hospitality ' I would rath-r v< d a branded serf from mv father's fle'd*. l/iivo go, f say—Ah. good youth. Heaven has sent you. Make him loose me' Hy the honor of your mother. I pray you to stand hy me and to make this knave lo'rse me. "Stand by you t will, and that blithely,” said Alleyne. "Surely, pir, you should take ehnm<* to hold the damsel against h»*r will ” Th** man turned a face upon him which was llon-Hke in Its strength and In Us wrath. With his tangle uf there is the more reason that your manners should be gentle too. I am well persuaded that you did but Jest with tliis lady, and that you will now permit her to leave your land either alone or with ine as a guide, if she should need one, through the wood. As to birth, it does not become me to •'<ast. and there is south in what you say as to tin- unworthiness of clerks, but it is none the less true that 1 am as well burn as you." "I >og:" cried the furious Socman, "there Is no man in the south who cun i sa> as much.” ‘A • t cun 1," said Alleyne, smiling; for indeed 1 also am th son of l-Jdric | the Socman, of the pure blood of (Jod fiey the thane, by th" only daughter of Aluric of Hrockenhurst. Surely, dear brother,” he continued, holding out his hard, "you have a warmer greeting than this for me. There are but two boughs left upon this old Saxon trunk.” His elder brother dashed his hand o’ide with an oath, while an expression f malignant hatred passed over his passion-drawn features. "You are the > -ling < 111. of I tea ulieu, then?" said he. I might have known it by the sleek f ee and slavish manner, too monk l ridden and craven in spirit to answer ba.k a rough Word. Thy father, shaveling, with all his faults, had a man « heart, and there were few who i c uld look him in the eyes on the day | of hi3 anger. Hut you! Look there, rat, on yonder field where the cows igiaz". and on that otlor beyond, and n the orchard hard by the church. Do you kn ow that all these were . (1J z-d out of your dying father by gteedy priests, to pay for your up bringing in the cloisters! f. the Soc man. am shorn of my 1 inds th it you may snivel Latin and eat bread for | wh!< h you never y< t did a hand a turn. I Knave, my dogs shall be net upon |> u, but meanwhile, stand out of my ' path, and stop me at your peril!” As he spoke he rushed forward, and, throwing the Ind to one side, caught l*h- woman's wrist. Alleyne, however, a« active as a young deer-hound, j sprang to her aid and seized her by i th othc r arm. raising his iron-shod j stuff as he did so. "You may say whnt you will to me.” I h» said be tween his clenched tee th - | it may be no h> tier than I d<- :< rvo | but, brother it i ", I swear by rn\* hopes of salvation that I will break vour arm if y a <1 i t leave hold . f 'the mnId.*’ There was a ring 1n hi* voire and a *a«h In his eyc-s «vb 'h promts d tfiil the blow would follow fjUPk at the her-t* r,f thr- word. For a moment the Mood of the long line Of hot-headed 1 than ■* was too strong for the soft ! whisperings of the doctrlre , f meek ! ness and mercy. He was conscious of a fierce wild thrtll through h'a nerve 1 and a throb of mad gladness at hs In art n« hb‘ real human self hurst for an in=tant the t .ml* of custom ar d of b aching wh h had he’d it so long Th« s < man sprang bar k looking to !• ft an cl to right for some* stick or stone which might serve him for weapon; l,pt finding n<>n>-. h" turned I and ran at the top of his spee d for the I'c take to my heart. Alas! that I liould still he so w’eak.’’ Weak! she exclaimed, raising her '■lack eyebrows. "I do not think that my father himself, who is a hard judge of manhood, would call you that. Hut it is, as you rnay think, sir. a very pleasant thing for me to hear that you are grieved at what you have done, and I can but rede that we should go back together, and you should make your peace with the Socman by hand ing back your prisoner. It is a sad thing that so small a thing as a woman should come between two who are of one blood.” Simple Alleyne opened his eyes at this little spurt of feminine bitterness. Nay. lady,” said he, "that were worst | ■of all. What man would he ho caitiff | and thrall as to fall you at your need? |1 have turned iny brother against me, iand now, alas! I appear to have given y< u ofTence also with my clumsy tongue. Hut, indeed, lady. I am torn both ways, and can scarce grasp In my mind what It Is that has befallen." "Nor can I marvel at that," said she, with a little tinkling laugh. “You <urne in as the knight does in the | jongleur's romances, between dragon and damsel, with small time for the asking of questions. Come,” she went rn, springing to her feet, and smooth ing down her rumpled frock, "let ns walk through the shaw together, and may come upon Bertrand with the horses. If poor Troubadour had not >ast a shoe, we should not have had this trouble. Nay, I must have your arm. "You have no wish, then, to hear iny story?" said she at last. Nay.” said he eagerly, "I would fain h< nr it." x “You have a right to know it. If you have lost a brother’s favor through It. This man has been a suitor for my hand, less as I think for my own sweet I s ik»• than because he hath ambition, and had it on his mind that he might (Improve his fortunes by dipping Into my father's strong-box—though the Virgin knows that he would have found little enough therein. “But, to be brief over the matter, i my father would have none of his won jing, nor In sooth would I On that he I swore a vow against us. and ns he is known to be a perilous man. with 'many outlaws and others at his bark, my f.ith< r forbade that I should hawk [or hunt In any part of th< wood to the north of f 'hrlstchnreh road. As It | chanced. how< ver. this morning my little falcon was loosed at a strong i winged heron, and page Bertrand and 1 rode on with no thoughts but for the «T orf. until we found ourselves In Min ! "trad worsls. Small harm then, but (that my horse Troubadour trod with a [tender foot upon a sharp stick, rear ing and throwing me to the ground. Then away ran Troubadour, for belike I spurred him in falling, and Bertrand rode aft<r him as hard as hoofs could i b< ar him When l rose there was the ! Socman himself by my side, with the j news that I wpas on his land, but with (many courteous w ords besides, and such gallant bearing, that he prevailed | Upon me to crime to his house for Don’t take scoop coffee when vou want! Arbuckles’ ARIOSA Coffee, which is (inly in sealed packages and never loose out of a “ scoop.” A grocer may recommend a loose eof-, fee at so much a pound. He is all right. He means well. If he handled the coffee Intnself. from the tree to you, you might well trust him implicitly. But he does not ! He may Know something about coffee. He may think he does, but let that pass. | He buys it loose ! From whom? You don’t know—if you did it would not mean anything. He trusts the man he buys it trom—maybe a salesman, maybe a wholesaler, mavbe a little local roaster It does not matter. What do they know about coffee? More than the grocer?i Perhaps. W here do they get their coffee ? W here does it come from ? W hose hands touched it last ? W here had they been ? J hey can t ted Java from Brazilian by I the looks after it is roasted, and it takes | a n an, expert by years of practical ex- i penenee, to select sound, sweet green i coffee of high cup merit ; and another man " ffh t;:' • knowledge and experience shelter, there to wait until the page's tl2'-‘ grace of Virgin and the help of my patron St. Magda *• n* 1 stopped short ere I reached his door, though, as you saw, he strove to hale ine up to it." "But your father?” “Not one word shall I tell him. You not know him; hut I can tell you he Is not a man to disobey as I have disobeyed him. He would avenge rile it is true, but It is not to him that I shall look for vengeance. Some day perchance, in joust or in tourney’ some knight may wish to wear my colors, and then J shall tel! hirn that if he does indeed crave my favor there is w rung unredressed, ami the wronger the Socman of Minstead. So mv knight shall find a venture such us bold knights love, and my debt shall be paid, and my father none the wiser and one rogue the less In the world.” 1 hen down the glade there came a little green-clad page with laughing eyes, and long curls floating behind him. lie sat perched on a high bay horse, and held on to the bridle of a spirited black palfrey, the hides of both glistening from a long run. "1 have sought you everywhere, dear Lady Maude,” said he, in a piping voice, springing down from his horse and holding the stirrup. "Troubadour galloped as far as Holmhill ere f could catch him. I trust that you have had no hurt or scath?” He shot a questioning glance at Alleyne as he spoke. "No, Bertrand,” said she, "thanks to this courteous stranger. And now. sir she continued, springing Into h* r saddle, "it is not tit that I should Pave you without a word more. You ha.ye acted ^this day as becomes a true knight. King Arthur and all his couM not have done more. It may he that, as some small return, my father or his kin may have power to advance your interest. He is not rich, but he is honored and hath great friends. Tell me what is your p>urpose, and see if he may not aid it.” "Alas, lady! I have now no purpose. I have but two friends in the world and they have gone to Christchurch’ where it is likely 1 shall Join them.” “And where in Christchurch "At tile castle which is held by the brave knight. Sir Nigel Loring, con stable to the Earl of Salisbury." To his surprise she hurst out a Iatighing, and spurring her palfrey, dashed off down the glade, with her page riding behind her. Not one word did she say. hut as she vanished amid the trees she half turned in her saddle and waved a last greeting. Long time no stood, half hoping that she might again come back to him; but the thud of the hoofs had died away, ami there was no sound in all the woods but the gentle rustle and dropping of the leaves. At last he turned awny and made his way back to the highroad - another person from the light-hearted boy who had left it a short three hours before. (To bo Continued Scxt Week.) Synopsis of PrecedingIChapters. Thr scene* Of the story arc laid In IhMtlh century. Morale John, a lay brother of the Cistercian Mo* nri-t. rv Abbey of It. nulieu flees from tie mi r.a-tery after b*-tng found guilty .»f ocrtnln serious < bar we* brought agmn.it him by a number of tl,u monks The-nme day. another of the lay brethren of the mnna-trry, A lleyne Kdrtoenn. tnkee hi* ilctnirturr in accordance with a provision of his fattier’* will •leslgrmtlng thnt he should, when ho I* earn, twenty year* old. go forth for one ycai to choose f,.r him self hi* future calling In sn ipe** he wander* from the monastery to visit hi* brother, tho Socman or rcpututton I- n ni" f uiinnvnri on? At niirbtfnn Alleyn* w. k» • hHt.r In n r* ml nlflr Inn when# hr;mr. tn Ilnrdto John, lie U tv much In trn-ffH InavIHtcrtn the inn. 4.<iniktn .%% 1 wr«rrf nn h» ifl»*h ftrrtor tart b .ok from th« Kr. nrh II- rnlf John sn-ffintr frit** a contr-.o r*v with Arl wnrff pnirfifr* « In a wrostlln* Unit with tti# f.. wnuin ffortllo John off* nnir t<> j«ln Ibr < nnii'Afi? In Wh'eh Arlwar.1 Is enlisted. If be do* * m t threw the latter Ihe oth. r In turn w ag.-r*a fenlbei I* .1 After a couple of iiii'Ucce**ful trials, 'vlwsr.J rueresd* by a trick In throwing the giant Ifortlln John, who Is tlius bound to Join tho White Company. The Story of Mary. diaries R. Barnes, in tho Now Yr>rk World. 1. Mnry had a llttlo lamb; Ono tiny It got tho croup; She sold it to a packing house— It s now canned ux-tuil soup. 2. M iry had to hnvo a pot; Hh<- bought ;t cunning o..w, Which died of splitting headaches soon; It's country sausage now, 2. Mnry wept and wept and wept. And then a pigglc got; Tho pigglc died of lummy ache— It'll boned ham. like as not. 4. Mary saw the packers make A fortune from lier pets. Put she could hnrdlv clear enough On them to pav her debts. 'Miry bought an ailing sheep — Phe knew It was a sin — And when it died sh*i promptly called An undertaker In. * This precious pair embalmed the sheep And sold It nil for cash. The folks who bought It of them said: "What lovely corned-bee/ hash!” 7 The undertaker and the girl Decided then to hitch. They organised a packing house. And, gee, hut they ar% rich! to proportion and blend for uniform re sults in the cup. First they must have the supply to preserve uniform quality. Arbuckles buy more coffee than anv four other concerns in the world com bined, and their coffee is the most uni form. Then ihc rousting. “The Brazilian Ambassador tells me that coffee-roasting is an art,” was the court testimony of a world famous chem ist. Where are artists more likely to find employment—manipulating a little roast er or in the Arbucklo mills, where the 1 yearly roast amounts to the hundred 1 million pounds? ——— Eon t take scoop coffee, but buy a ■ package of Arbuckles’ ARIOSA. Take it home and keep the bean intact until ready to use. We hermetically seal each bean after roasting with a coating of fresh eg£s and granulated sugar to close : the pores and preserve the flavor. A lit tle warming makes it easy to grind and develops the flavor. Coffee deteriorates if exposed to the air—it also collects dust and absorbs impurities. That is why you should “BEWARE OF THE i SCOOP.” If your grocer will not sell von the genuine Aibuckles’ ARIOSA Coffee it will be greatly to your advantage to buy from us direct. Send us SI.SO, postal or express monev order, and we will send 10 pounds of Arbuckles’ ARIOSA in a strong wooden box, transportation paid to your freight station. Price fluctuates and cannot be guaranteed for any period, You cannot buy as good coffee tor the money under any other name or loose by the pound. More - the coffee will come in the original packages bearing the signature of Arbucklc Bros., which entitles you to free presents—10 pounds —10 signatures. New book with colored pictures of U? beautiful useful presents will be sent free if you write. You can write und see the book before you order the coffee. ^ The present department is an old in stitution with us to add a little senti ment to the business. PRICE IS NO EVIDENCE OF QUALITY ! ARIOSA is just as likely to suit your taste as coffee that costs io or 55 cents a pound, It aids digestion and,increases the power and ambition to work.j Address our nearest oflicc : ARBUCKLE BROTHERS. 71 Water Street, New York City. Dept. 9 ll*J Michigan Avenue. < hlcago 111. Depe 9 I.lherty Ave. ami Wood St., Pitta burgh, Pa. Dept. 9 1-1 South Seventh Street, St. Loula. Mo. Dept, 9 Will Munufuelure Own Pennies, T ncle Sam will make his own pen nies In future. The treasury has taken over the business from private concerns, which for many years manu factured those small coins for the government, and intends for all time to come to turn them out with its own machinery. The treasury has always stamped its own pennies with the design of the Indian’s head and the wreath on the reverse enclosing the words “One cent’’; but tlie coins, lacking only this finishing touch, have been made for many years in Waterbary. Conn., whence they were shipped in the shape of “blanks” (otherwise known as "planchets") In strong wooden boxes. They used to cost the government, in this form, only twenty-four cents a pound, whereas to-dav, owing to the rise in the price of copper, they can not Ik* manufactured, even when homemade, for less than twenty-nine <•<■111s. A pound of blanks represent l id pennies. if a cent a pound be added for the expense of stamping them with dies, it will be obvious that Uncle Sam is able to manufacture -ISb pennies for a dollar—a very profitable enterprise, inasmuch as he disposes of that num ber for $1.8d. During the last year the treasury minted MO.TId.H!3 pennies, of which New York State absorbed ulxmt 15, (MM).ouO, the demand from Illinois be ing next in point of size, while Massa chusetts was third and Pennsylvania fourth. To make tlds number of cents required 525.22.8 pounds of copper, 1d.5x<; pounds of tin and 11,257 pounds of zinc, the two latter metals entering Into the composition of these coins to the extent of three per cent, uud two. Music Lessons Free IN YOUR OWN HOME. A wonderful offer to every lover of music, whether a beginner or an advanced player. Ninety-six lessons (or a less number if you desire) for either Piano, Organ, Violin, Guitar, Banjo, Cornet or Mandolin will be given free to make or.r home study courses for these in struments known in your locality. You will get one lesson weekly, und your only expense dur ing the time you take the lessons will be the cost of postage and the music you will use which is small. Write at once. It will mean much to you to get our free booklet. It will plr.ee you under no obligation whatever to us if you never write again. You and your friends should know of this work. Hundreds of our pupils write: *• \\ :sh I had known of your school before” “Have learned more in one term in my home with your weekly lessons than in three terms with private teachers and at a great deal less expense.” •* Everything is so thorough and complete.” *• The lessons are marvels of simplicity, and my 11 year old b..” lias not had the least trouble to learn,” Ore minister writes:'* As each succeeding lesson comes I am more and’ more fully persuaded 1 muue no mistake in becoming your pupil ” We have been established seven years—hav* hundreds of pupils from eight years of age to seventy. I>on t 6ay you cannot learn music till you send for our free booklet and tuition offer. |t will be sent bv return man free Ad dress U. S. SCHOOL OF MUSIC, 15\ Union Square, New York City. freckles removed I ««• ran rrmo.r an. ^UM- of IrrrLlrt utlh STIUJU.VS I l(M KI.K t UL.4)1 TbU I* m tfmnr minion, bnl «••• Will rrR,i..| V..nr m.im-t If not •iitUnnl. Our rcm«Ht« ]« |,rr» fMinnl for thU om .illiurnf. »rltf for |mrt imlur>. Mlllman I ritklp ('rr.'ui C o* ... III. What Does This Mean? 7 ♦HL* ^ these puzzling ^5 things, roughly displayed in Fresh Blood upon the wall of a house where a great crime had been committed, stared \ you in the face, could you ' explain their meaning? Such was the problem which Sherlock IIolmf.s had to solve in his first chronicled adventure , “The Study in Scarlet” A book which made t'onon Doyle the first of detective writers in the world. In Holmes* next adventur£, he wa? »_ confronted by the cabalistic image in “The Sign of the Four” Those two, the first and best of the Sherlock Holmes novels. 300 pat'es of ren-b ing. Inuind elegantly in a single big volume in illuminated cloth board f Harper & Bros.’ regular fl.50 linen imperial edition), sent postpaid with this coupon for 50 Cents Here is a rhanec to get two of the moot intensely interesting of adventure* in a most beautifully printed and bmind edition for just one-third price. FREE WITH THIS BOOR. sSi Bo sure and use this Coupon, Rending 50 rents in Stamps, Coin or Money Order.