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II ®e VALIANTS ZVMNIAII Wm C#' LIALLIE EDMINIE DIVES ,?• iiftj J ' ~j ILLUSTRATIONS &-• LAUREN STOUT —c ofr/f/avr ay aoaa^ -/wr/wtz cro/r/wyy O SYNOPSIS. John Valiant, a rich society favorite, •utMinily dlsrovi-ra that tin* Valiant cor poration. which life father founded and which was ih< principal source of his wealth, had failed lie voluntarily turns Over his private fortune to the receiver for tho corporation. Ills entire remaining possessions consist of tin old motor car. a white hull ilok and Itatnory court, a netc lected estate In Virginia. On the way to Dainory court ho me. is Shirley Uand rldife, an nuhurn-haired beauty, anil de cides that he Is Koine to like VlrKlnia Im mensely, Shirley's mother. Mrs, Mand rltlffe. and Major llrlstow exchanKe rein Inlsccncea during which it Is revealed that tin major, Valiant's father, and a man named Sassoon were rivals for the hand of Mrs liandrldip In her youth. Sassoon mill Valiant fought a duel on tier nri oiint In which the former was killed. Valiant Hilda I inmory court overirrown wly; weeds and creepers anil decides to rehabilitate the place Valiant saves Shirley from the Idle of a snake, which bites him. Knowing the deadliness of the bile. Shirley sucks the poison from the wound and saves his life. Valiant learns for the first time that his father left Vlr gnla on account of a duel In whleh Tate ►r Southall and Major llrlstow acted as hie father's seconds. Valiant and Shirley become good friends. Mrs, I landrldce faints when she meets Valiant for the first time. Valiant discovers that he has a fortune in old walnut trees. The yearly tournament, a survival of the Jousting of feudal times, Is held at Dainory court. At tho lost moment Valiant takes the place of one of the knights, who Is sick, and enters the lists. He wins and chooses Bhlrley Dandrldgo ns queen of beauty to the dismay of Katherine Fargo, n former Sweetheart, who ts visltlnK In Virginia. The tournamont hall at Damnry court draws tho elite of the countryside. Shir ley ! s crowned hy Valiant as queen of beauty. Valiant tells Shirley of his love and they become engaged. Katherine wargo. determining net to give up Vall •( without a struggle, points out to Shlr- how terrible K would be for the worn who caused the duel to meet Valiant. Vo looks so much like his father. CHAPTER XXVlll.—Continued. "Young mars’ feel 'way up In de clouds dls day,” he said to Aunt Daphne. "He wake up ez glad ez ef ho done 'feesetl 'llglon las’ night. Well, all do folkses ccrt’n’y 'Joyed deyselvos. Ol’ Mistah Fargo done eat 'bout forty uh dom jumbles. Ah heah him talkin’ ter Mars’ John. ’Reck’n yo’ mus’ hab er crackabjack cook down heah,’ ho say, Hyuh, hyuh!” “O’way wld yo’ blackyardln’!—” •nlffed Aunt Daphne, delighted. "Don’ need ter come eroun’ boney-caffuddlln’ me!” "Dat’s whut he say,” Insisted Uncle Jefferson; “ho did fo’ er fac’!" She drew her hands from the suds nd looked at him anxiously. "Jeffeon, yo’ rock’n Mars’ John gwlneter fotch dat Yankee ’ooman heah ter Dam’ry Co’ot, ter be ouah mlstls?" “Humph!" scoffed her spouse. “Dat highfalutin’ gal whut done swaller de Jain rod ? No suhree-bob-tall! De oldah yo’ gits, de mo’ foolishah yo’ citations Is! Don’ yo’ tek no mo’ trouble on yo’ back den yo’ kin keek off’n yo’ heels! She aln’ gwlneter run dls place, er ol’ Devll-John tuhn ovah In he grave!” Sunset found Valiant sitting In the music-room before the old square pi ano. In the ehadowy chamber the keys of mother-of-pearl gleamed with ■dull colors under his fingers. He •truck at first only broken chords, that became finally the haunting barcarole of "Tales of Hoffmann.” It was the air that had drifted across the garden when he had stood with Shirley by the sun-dial, In the moment of their first kiss. Over and over he played It, improvising dreamy variations, till tho tender melody seemed the dear ghost of that embrace. At length he For an Instant He Stared Unbellev- Inflly. went Into the library and In the crim soning light sat down at the desk, and began to write: "Dear Bluebird of Mine: "I can’t wait any longer to talk to you. Dess than a day has passed elnco wo were together, but It might have been eons, If one measured time hy heart beats. What have you been doing and thinking, 1 wonder? 1 have •pent those eons In the garden, Just wandering about, dreaming over those wonderful, wonderful moments by the un-dlal. Ah, dear little wild heart born of the flowers, with the soul of a bird (yet you are woman, too!) that old disk Is marking happy hour* now for me! "How have I deserved this’ thing that has come to me?—sad bungler that I have been! Sometimes It seems too glad and sweet, and I am suddenly desperately afraid 1 shall wake to find myself facing another dull morning In that old. useless, empty life of mine. 1 am very humble, dear, before your love. "Shall I tell you when it began with me? Not last night—nor the day we planted the ramblers. (Do you know, when your little muddy boot went (rumpling down the earth about their roots, I wanted to stoop down and kiss it? So dear everything about you was!) Not that evening at Rose wood, with the arbor fragrance about us. (I think I shall always picture you with roses all about you. Red roses tho color of your lips!) No. It was not then that If began—nor that dreadful hotlr when you fought with me to save my life nor the morning you sat your I horse in the box-rows in that yew green habit that made your hair look like molten copper. No, It began the first afternoon, when I sat in my mo tor with your rose In my hand! It has never left me since, by day or by night. And yet there are people in this age of airships and bonking high ways am) typewriters who think love at-flret-sight Is as out-of-date as our little grandmothers’ hoops rusting In the garret. Ah, sweetheart. I. for one. know better! "Suppose 1 had not come to Vir ginia—and known you! My heart Jumps when 1 think of It. It makes one believe In fate. Here at the Court I found an old leaf-calendar —It site at my elbow now. Just as I came on It, The date It shows is May 14th, and Its motto Is: ’Every man carries hls fate upon a riband about his neck.’ I like that. "That first Sunday at St. Andrew's, I thought of a day—may It be soon! when you and I might stand before that altar, with your people (my people, too, now) around us, and I shall hear you say: TANARUS, Shirley, take thee, John— ’ And to think It Is really to come true! Do you remember the text the minister preached from? It was 'But all men perceive that they have riches, and that their faces shine as the faces of angels.’ I think I shall go about henceforth with my face shining, so that all men will see that I have riches—your love for me, dear. “I am so happy I can hardly see the words—or perhaps It Is that the sun has set. I am sending this over by Uncle Jefferson. Send me back Just a word by him, sweetheart, to say I ■may come to you tonight. And add the three short words I am so thirsty to hear over and over—one verb be tween two pronouns—so that I can kiss them all at once!" He raised hls head, a little flushed and with eyes brilliant, lighted a candle, sealed the letter with the ring he wore and dlepatched It Thereafter he sat looking Into the growing dusk, watching the pale lamps of the constellations deepen to green gilt against the lapls-lazull of the sky, and listening to the Insect noises dulling Into the woven chorus of evening. Uncle Jefferson was long In returning, and he grew Impatient finally and began to prowl through the dusty corridors like a leopard, then to the front porch and finally to the driveway, listening at every turn for the familiar slouching step. When at length the old negro ap peared, Valiant took the note he brought, hls heart beating rapidly, and carried It hastily In to the candle light. He did not open It at once, but sat for a full minute pressing It be tween hls palms as though to extract from the delicate paper the beloved thrill of her touch. Hls hand shook slightly as he drew the folded leaves from the envelope. How would It be gin? “My Knight of the Crimson Rose?" or “Dear Gardener?” (She had called him Gardener the day they had set out the roses) or perhaps even "Sweetheart?” It would not be long, only a more “Yes” or "Come to me," perhaps; yet even the shortest missive had Its beginning and Its ending. He opened and read. For an Instant he stared unbeliev ingly. Then the paper crackled to a ball In hls clutched hand, and he made a hoarse sound which was half cry, then sat perfectly still, hls whole face shuddering. What he crushed In hls hand was no note of tender love phrases; It was an abrupt dismissal. The staggering contretemps struck the color from his face and left every nerve raw and quivering. To be "noth ing to her, as she could be nothing to him?" He felt a ghastly Inclination to laugh. Nothing to her! Presently, his brows frowning heav ily, he spread out the crumpled paper and reread It with bitter slowness, weighing each phrase. "Something which she had learned since she last saw him, which lay between them.” She had not known It, then, last night, alien they had kissed beside the sun dial! She had loved him then! What could there be that thrust them Irrev ocably apart? Without stopping to think of the darkness or that the friendly doors of the edifice would be closed, he caught up hls hat and went swiftly down the drive to the road, along which he plunged breathlessly. The blue star spangled sky was now streaked with clouds like faded orchids, and the shadows on the uneven ground under his hurried feet made him giddy. Thrqugh the din and hurly-burly of hls thoughts ho was conscious of dimly moving shapes across fences, the sweet breath of cows, and a negro pe destrian whjj greeted him In passing lie was stricken suddenly with .ths EAST MISSISSIPPI TIMES. STARKVH.LE, MISS. | thought that Shirley was suffering, j too. It seemed Incredible that he should now be raging along a country road at nightfall to find something that so horribly hurt them both. It was almost dark—save for the starlight—when ho saw the shadow of the square Ivy-grown spire rearing stark from Its huddle of foliage against the blurred background. He pushed open the gate and went slowly up the worn path toward the great iron-bound and hooded door. Under the larches on cither hand the outlines of the gravestones loomed pallidly, and from the bell tower came the faint inquiring cry of a small owl. Valiant stood looking about him. What -eould he learn here? He read no answer to the riddle. A little to one side of the path something showed snow-like on the ground, and he went toward It. Nearer, he saw that it was a mass of flowers, staring up whitely from the He Bent Over, Suddenly Noting the Scent; It Was Cape Jessamine. semi-obscurity from within an' Iron railing. He bent over, suddenly noting the scent; it was capg Jessamine. With the curious sensation of almost prescience plucking at him, he took a box of vestas from his pocket and struck one. It flared up illuminating a flat granite slab In which was cut a name and Inscription: EDWARD SASSOON. “Forgive us our trespasses/* The silence seemed to crash to earth like a great looking-glass and shiver Into a million pieces. The wax dropped from his fingers and in the superven ing darkness a numb fright gripped him by the throat. Shirley bad laid these there, on the grave of the man his father had killed—the cape Jessa mines she had wanted that day, for her mother! He understood. • *•••*• It came to him at last that there was a chill mist groping among ihe trees and that he was very cold. He went back along the Red Road stumbllngly. Was this to be the end of the dream, which he had fancied would last forever? Could It be that she was not for him? Was It no hoary lie that the sins of the fathers were visited upon the third and fourth gen eration? When he re-entered the library the candle was guttering In the burned wings of a night-moth. The place looked all at once gaunt and desolate and despoiled. What could Virginia, what could Damory Court, be to him without her? The wrinkled note lay on the desk and he bent suddenly with a sharp catching breath and kissed It. There welled over him a wave of rebellious longing. The "candle spread to a hazy yellow blur. The walls fell away. He stood under the moonlight, with his arms about her, his lips on hers and his heart beating to the sound of the violins behind them. He laughed—a harsh wild laugh that rang through the gloomy room. Then he threw himself on the couch and buried his face In his hands. He was still lying there when the misty rain wet dawn came through the shutters. CHAPTER XXIX. The Coming of Qreef King. It was Sunday afternoon, and under the hemlocks, Rickey Snyder had gath ered her minione—a dozen children from the near-by houses with the usual sprinkling of little blacks from the kitchens. There were parents, of course, to whom this mingling of color and degree was a matter of conven tional prohibition, but since the ad vent of Rickey, In whoso soul lay a Napoleonic Instinct of leadership, this was more honored In the breach than In the observance. “My! Ain’t It scrumptious here cow!” said Cozy Cabell, hanging yel low lady-slippers over her ears. “I wish we could play here always." "Mr. Valiant will let us," said Rick ey. "1 asked him.” "Oh, he will," responded Cozy gloom ily, "but he’ll probably go and marry somebody who’ll be mean about It." "Everybody doesn't get married," said one of the Byloe twins, with mas culine assurance. “Maybe he won’t." “Much a boy knows about It!” re ported Cozy scornfully. "Women have to, and someone of them will make him. (Greenville Female Seminary Simms, If you ulap that little nigger again, I'll slap you!)” Oreenle rolled over on the grass and tittered. “Miss Mattie Sue dldn’,” she said. “Ah heah huh say de yuddah day et wuz er moughty good feelln' ter go ter bald Mlstls en git up Mars tah!” "Well," said Cozy, tossing her head till the flower barrings danced, "I’m going to get married If the man hasn't got anything but a character and a red mustache. Married women don’t have to prove they could have got a husband If they had wanted to.” "Let’s play something," proposed Rosebud Meredith, on whom the dis cussion palled. “Let’s play King. King Katlko.” “It’s Sunday!”—this from her small er and more righteous sister. “We’re forbidden to play anything but Bible games on Sunday, and If Rosebud does, I’ll tell.” "Jay-bird tattle-tale!” sang. Rosebud derisively. ’’Don’t care If you do!” “Well,” decreed Rickey. “WeTl play Sunday school then. It would take a saint to object to that. I’m superin tendent and this stump’s my desk. All you children sit down under that tree.” They ranged themselves In two rows, the white children, In clean Sab bath pinafores and go-to-meeting knickerbockers, In front and the col ored ones. In ginghams and cotton prints. In the rear—-the habitual ex pression of a differing social station. “Oh!” shrieked Mias Cabell, “and IT! be Mrs. Merry weather Maeon and teach the infants’ class." “There isn’t any infant class,” said Rickey. "How could there be when there aren’t any Infants? The lesson is over and I’ve Just rung the bell for silence. Children, this Is Missionary Sunday, and I’m glad to see so many happy face* here today. Cozy,” she said relenting, “you can be the organ ist if you want to.” “I won't,” said Cozy sullenly. "If I can’t be table-cloth I won’t be dish rag." "All right, you needn’t,” retorted Rickey freezlngly. “Sit up, Greenle. People don’t He on their backs in Sunday-school." Greenle yawned dismally, and right ed herself with Injured slowness. "Ah diffuses ter ’cep’ yo’ Insult, Rickey Snydah," she said. “Ah’d ruthah lose mah llglon dan mah laz’nese. En Ah ’splses yo’ splssable dlsslsltlon!” "Let us all rise,” continued Rickey, unmoved, "and sing ’Kingdom Com ing.’ ” And she struck up lustily, beating time on the stump with a stick, and the rows of children Joined In with unction, the colored contingent cqmtng out strong on the cborue: De yerf shall be full ob de wunduhtul story As wataha dat covah de seal The clear voices In the quiet air startled the fluttering birds and sent a squirrel to the tip-top of an oak, from which he looked down, flirting hls brush. They roused a man, too, who had lain In a sodden sleep under a bush at a little distance. He was ragged and soiled and hls heavy bru tal face, covered with a dark stubble of some day*’ growth, had an ugly scar slanting back from cheek to hair. Without getting up, he rolled over to command a better view, and set hls eyes, blinking from their slumber, on the children. “We will now take up the collec tion," said Rickey. (“You can do It, June. Use a flat piece of bark.) Re member that what we give today Is for the poor heathen In—ln Alabama.” The bark-slab made Its rounds, re ceiving leaves, acorns,' and an occa sional pin. Midway, however, there arose a shrill shriek from the bearer and the collection was scattered broad QUESTION RIGHT TO SWORD Historic Relic Now In Possession of University of Pennsylvania Has Evoked Discussion. The gold sword that Louis XVI pre sented to John Paul Jones In recogni tion of the fight he with the Bon Homme Richard against the Serapls has been presented to the University of Pennsylvania by Edward C. Dale, son of the late Richard C. Dale, a for mer president of the Society of Cincin nati. The sword has been In the pos session of the Dale family for more than a century. This Is the sword which Charles Henry Hart, a local historian, de clares now should be In possession of Admiral Dewey. It- had been gen erally accepted that the sword passed by will of Commodore Jones to Com modore Dale, a forbear of Richard C. Dale. Mr. Hart denied this. He de clares that the sword was In posses sion of John Paul Jones when he died In Paris, in 1792, and that Jane Tay lor of Dumfries, Scotland, a sister of Jones, went to Paris and took posses sion of everything laft hy the sea cast. "Rosebud Meredith,” said Rick ey wltherlngly, "It would serve you right for putting that toad in the plate If your hand would get all over warts! I’m sure I hope It will.” She rescued the fallen piece of bark and an nounced: "The collection this attei noon has amounted to a hundred dol lars and seven cents. And now, chil dren, we will skip the catechism and I will tell you a story.” Her auditors hunched themselves nearer, a double row of attentive white and black faces, as Rickey with a pre liminary bass cough, began In a drawl ing tone whoee mimicry called forth giggles of esetasy. “There were once two little sisters who went to Sunday-school and loved their teacher ve-e-ery much. They were always good and attentive—not like that little nigger over there! The one with hls thumb In his mouth! One was little Mary and the other was little Susy. They had a mighty rich uncle who lived In Richmond, and once he came to see them and gave them each a dollar. And they were ve-e-ery glad. It wasn’t a mean old paper dollar, all dirt and creases; nor a battered whltey silver dollar; but It was a bright round gold dollar, right out of the mint. Little Mary and little Susy could hardly sleep that night for thinking of what they could buy with those gold dollars. “Early next morning they went down-town, hand in band, to the store, and little Susy bought a bag of goober peae, and sticks and sticks of striped candy, and a limber Jack, and a gold ring, and a wax doll with a silk dress on that could open and shut Its eyes—” "Huh!” said the captious Cozy, “You can’t buy a wax doU for a dollar. My llttlest, llttlest one coil three, and she didn’t have a stitch to her back!" “Shut up!” said Rickey briefly "Dolls were cheaper then." She looked at the row of little negroes, goggle eyed at the vision of such larges*. “What 'do you think little Mary did with her gold dollar? She loved dolls and candy, too, but she had heard about the poo-00-r heathen. There was a tear In her eye, but she took the dol lar home, and next day when she went to Sunday-school, she dropped It in the mlsslonJky-box. "Little children, what do you reckon became of that dollar? It bought a big satchelful of tracts for a mission ary. He had been a poor man with six children and a wife with a bone felon on her right hand—not a child old enough to wash dishes and all ol them young enough to fall In the fire— eo he had to go and be a missionary. He was going to Alabam—to a canni bal Island, and he took the tracts an i sailed away In a ship that landed hiir on the shore. And when the heathea cannibals saw him they were ve-e-ery glad, for there hadn't been any ship wrecked sailors tor a long time, and they were ve-e-ery hungry. So they tied up the missionary and gathered a lot of wood to make a fire and cook him. "But ts had rained and rained and rained for so long that the wood wai all wet, and it wouldn’t burn, and the) all cried because they were so hungry. And then they happened to find the satcheltul of tracts, and the tracts weft ve-e-ery dry. They took them and etuck them under the wet wood, and the tracts burned and the wood caught fire and they cooked the mik sionary at id ate him. "Now, little children, which do you think did the most good with her dol lar —little Susy or little Mary?” The front row sniggered, and a slgk came from the colored ranks. “Delb ar’ can’bals." gasped a dusky Intanl breathlessly. dey done eat up all dat candy and dem goober-peas, too?" (TO BE CONTINUED.) lighter. Later the sword was sent t* Robert Morris. According to Mr. Hart Mr. Morrti later presented the sword to Com modore John Barry, senior officer a the American navy In 1795, but thtv the presentation was only a llf legacy, and that It should have beet handed down to Barry’s successor u senior officer, eventually reaching th* possession of Admiral Dewey. Phil* delphia Press. Bird Man Has Arrived. On the day after Christmas a Ru slan aviator at St. Petersburg flew * new machine cf his own making tin hours, carrying ten passengers In addl tl°n to a heavy load of bal'ast. Thl establishes the aeroplane as a sure adjunct of modern transportation, In eluding passengers and freight.’ A few days before this even we heard of the successful use of the flying mi chine by the French army operatlni In Morocco, which puts this new mod* of warfare among the arms of mllltan operations of our day, and hereaftel when we use the expression "a'/ arms” we shall have to laded* tl; flying machine. Children’s clothM should be fresh a K sweet this meaiulA big wash—never mJ --use RUB-NO-MfiSi CARBO NAPTHA SO® Washday then has®* terrors. 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