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The Sentinel=record. (Hot Springs, Ark.) 1900-current, October 11, 1914, SECOND SECTION, Image 9

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn89051285/1914-10-11/ed-1/seq-9/

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I lie ! rey 0* Hearts
A Novelixed Verelon of the Motion Picture Drama of the SamotNaroo
Produced by the Universal Film Co.
By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
Author of "The Fort,me hunter," "The Frau Bout.'”' Tire Fll.uk Bai." otc.
Illoitratrd with Photographi from the Pictare Production
i't Name Bj
Copyright, 1914, by Louis Joseph Vance
(Continued From Last Sunday.)
CHAPTER XXII.
The House Divided.
Alone in that strange place of si
lence and shadows—that den of the
devil's livery, crimson and black—
chained to the invalid chair wherein,
day in, day out, for years on end, he
had suffered the Promethean torments
of the life that would not die out of
his wretched, wrecked carcass, though
without ceasing sharp-beaked envy,
hatred, malice and all uncharitable
ness pecked insatiably at his vitals:
Seneca Trine sat waiting, with the im
passivity of a graven ligure waiting
on the imminent hour of ultimate
avengement for the wrong that uau
made him what he was.
“Another hour! ... In sixty
minutes more they will be here, Judith
and Marrophat and Rose—poor fool!
•—and him! ... In sixty minutes
more they will put him down before
me, bound and helpless, if not dead
A slight pause prefaced words that
were a whimpered prayer: “God send
that he be not dead! Have I lingered
r
i
Rose Turned on Her Passionately.
here in anguish all these weary years
for the fulfillment of my revenge only
to be cheated at the end by Death?
God grant that Alan law may bo laid
flown still living here at my feet!
. \ . Then . .
A bitter smile twisted his tortured
features: "Then shall my will be done
to him! And then, when I have seen
him die as his father died—then—Ah,
God!—then at last I too may die!
There was a long silence, then a
groan of exasperated protest: "Why
do they not come? Why does Judith
delay, when she knows how I suffer?
Why have I been put off from day to
day with her telegrams that begged
for more time and promised every
thing but told nothing!—until yester
uaj. . . . w licit* are wonts mt'a- i
Bilges she sent, mo yesterday?"
His one sound hand groped out like
a claw and sought a mass of papers
nri the desk beside him, sorting out |
from among them two yellow forms.
Painfully he blinked over these and
slowly his pain-bent lips conned their
wording;
“'Alan and Rose safe with me—will
tiring both home tomorrow night with
out fail,’ ” he read the first aloud; and
then the second: "‘Have motorcar
waiting for me tomorrow morning
from three o'clock till called for New
Bedford waterfront—Judith.’ ”
"Not" lie affirmed with the fervor
rtf one persuaded by his own desires:
“I must not doubt the girl! She has
promised, she has performed:
So still was he, Indeed that he
seemed to sleep, but so deceptive was
that semblance that he was alert for
the least sound. The girl entered soft
ly, as if fearful of disturbing his slum
bers; but she found him with bead
erect and eyes a blaze.
"Judith!” he cried, his great voice
vibrating like a brazen bell. “At last!
Where is he? Y*>u have brought him?
Where Is he?"
With no more answer than a sigh,
the girl drooped her head and let her
hands hang limply with palms ex
posed.
Afttw an instant of incredulous dis
appointment the man shot a single,
frigid question at her:
“You have failed?”
“1 have failed," she confessed.
“Why?"
She shrugged slightly. "Wha knows
why one fails? 1 did my best: he was
too much for me, outwitted me at
every turn. Time and again I thought
I had him, but always he escaped,
either by his own wit and courage or
With another's aid. Only yesterday
Bight they were all three in the hol
Mtw * f my hands—but now I bring you
only Rose."
She faltered, awed by the glare of
his Infuriated eyes. "Let me explain,”
-ve begged.
He snapped her short: "You cannot
explain. The thing is impossible, that
you should have failed. There is some
thing beneath this, something you
will not tell me.”
She endeavored to speak, but he en
forced silence with a sonorous "No!”
His hand sought the row of buttons
on the desk and pressed one long.
Almost instantly a servant glided
noiselessly into the room.
"My daughter Rone—have her
brought here to me at once!”
In another moment the replica of
his daughter Judith was ushered Into
his presence.
Upon this one he loosed the light
nings of his wrath without ruth.
Hose suffered him in silence. His
most galling recrimination educed no
retort from this one.
In a lull In Trine’s tirade, Judith
chose to interject: “Don’t be so hard
on the silly fool: she's not responsible;
she’s sjck With love for that good-look
ing simpleton!"
"And you!" Rose turned on her
passionately—“what about you? If I
love Alan Law, at least I love him
openly. I am not ashamed to own It—
and I don’t pursue him, as you do, pre
tending I mean to sacrifice him to a
wicked family feud, and then spare
him every time I meet him, to lead
him to believe I hawen’t the heart to
injure him—as you do, hoping so to
work upon his sympathies and earn
a kindly word and a pat on the head
from his hand!”
Fiercely she leveled a denunciatory
arm at her sister. "There!" she cried
to her father—"if you need to know—
there stands the daughter who has
betrayed your faith—as I have not,
who have never even pretended to
approve your villainy!”
"I think,” Trine announced In a
voice of ice—”1 have learned now
what I needed to know.”
His fingers sought the now of but
tons; and when a servant responded,
he inquired:
“Mr. Marrophat has returned?"
"He 1b in the waiting room, sir.”
"Conduct Miss Judith to him and
tell him I hold him personally respon
sible for her safe-keepdng. He will
understand.”
And for a long time thereafter the
father, alone with the daughter who
had been estranged from him since
birth by every instinct of her nature,
essayed in vain to break down her
mutinous silence.
At last Trine summoned two of his
creatures and had her led weeping
from the rooms to be held prisoner in
her bedchamber on the topmost floor
of the house.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A Sporting Offer.
Some two hours later, that same
evening. Mr. Alan Law, very much
alive and. In spite of a complete new
outfit of ready-made clothing, looking
much more like himself than he had
In a fortnight. Issued forth from the
Grand Central station, hailed a taxi
cab, and had himself conveyed to the
Hotel Monolith.
Hut If he looked his proper self once
more. It speedily was demonstrated
that his wish was otherwise: for after
learning from the room-clerk of the
Monolith that a suite was being held
In the name of Arthur Lawrence, that
was the name Mr. Law Inscribed on
the register.
On the other hand, it was his true
name that he gave to the person whom
he called upon the telephone Immedi
ately after being shown to his rooms.
Hut then he was speaking to his old
friend and man of business, Mr. Digby.
Within another ten minutes this last
was in conference with hi3 employer:
"I think you must be out of your
head," he insisted nervously, once
their first greetings were over. "You
might Just as sensibly throw yourself
from the top of the Metropolitan tower
as come to New York while Trine lives
and knows you’re this side the water.”
"Nonsense!" Alan laughed. "Remem
ber this is New York—not the back
woods of Maine!"
Alan paused and smote his palm
with a remorseful fist. "Hy the Eter
nal, I'm forgetting Barcus!”
"Barcus?"
"Chap whose boat I chartered in
Portland-sheer luck on my part: he’s
one of the salt of the arth. First,
something must be done for the boy.
You’ve got influence of some sort in
New Bedford, surely?"
Digby reflected: "Some. There’s
George Blaine, justice of the peace—”
"The very man. Telegraph him in
Barcus’ interests Immediately. And
telegraph Barcus as well—send him
a hundred for expenses, and tell him
to Join me here in New York as quick
as he can!"
"Your friend’s address?” Digby in
quired, mildly ironic as he sat down
at the desk and fumbled with the sup
ply of stationery.
"New Bedford Jail, of course!” Alan
chuckled—but cut his laugh In two as
a:
something fluttered from the pack of
envelopes which Digby had disturbed
and fell to the floor between the two
men.
Pace up, it grinned sardonic mock
ery of Alan’s confidence: It was a trey
of hearts.
With an ashen face and a trembling
hand, Digby stooped to pick tlio
damned thing up; but Alan was be
forehand with him, and got his fingers
first upon the card.
"Now will you believe?” Digby de
manded huskily.
"In what? A simple coincidence?”
Alan flouted. "Not I! Who knows I'm
In New York—or that the Arthur Law
rence for whom your agent engaged
these rooms was Alan Law. No, my
friend: it’s a bit too thick for ine. Take
my word for it, this is nothing more
nor less than a souvenir of a poker
party held by yesterday’s tenant of
this suite.’*
"Perhaps—perhaps!” Digby assent
ed, stroking tremulous lips. “Hut I'm
afraid for you, my boy. Who knows
that Trine's spies were not watching
my man when he made this reserva
tion? Who knows but that 'Arthur
Lawrence’ was too thin a disguise for
Alan Law? I tell you, I’m frightened
to the marrow of my old bones! Do
me this favor at least, my boy: now
that you’ve been warned, whether by
accident or design—wo won’t argue
that—do leave town—go Incognito to
some quiet place near by and wait
thero for the sailing of the next trans
atlantic steamer. Oh, surely you can't
deny me this one wish of my fond old
heaat, my boy!”
W ith a gesture of unfeigned nffoe- ;
tion Alan dropped a hand on Digby's
shoulder.
“There’s nothing on earth I would
not do for you,” he said: "you’ve been
a father and a mother to me ever eince
I can remember, even If we were sepa
rated, most of the time, by three thou
sand miles of salt water. But this
thing—1 can’t do it, even for you. 1
can't do it even for myself. Rose
Trine is here in New York, in the
hands and at the mercy of her father
and sister: and you may judge what
their mercy will be when you learn
all that she has done for me. I won’t
go and I can't go until I find her and
take her with me. And that is final.”
"Then,” Digby struck in, grasping
wildly at a straw of hope, "I have your
word you'll go, providing I find and re
store Hose to you?”
"You have my word to that, unques
tionably. Bring Rose to me, and I’ll
gladly shake the dust of New York
from my shoes, and never return till
Trine is put away comfortably in his
grave."
"It shall be done,” Digby promised.
"It must!”
"You believe that?”
"In twelve hours Rose shall be re
stored to you.”
"Will you make a book on it? I'll
bet you something happens—and hope
1 lose into the bargain. If you believe
you can carry out your promise, wire
the White Star line to reserve the
best available suite on the Oceanic,
Bailing tomorrow morning at ten—
and make arrangements for a mar
riage before the boat sails.”
‘‘I'll go you,” Digby agreed: "and if
I fail, I forfeit the cost of the reser
vation. But about this marriage—”
He hesitated.
“You'll have to have a license in
this state—and can’t get one except
corner.
Ilia preliminary reconnoisnnce pro
vided little more than comfortless ex
ercise. Huge, still, its wall bathed in
the milk and ink of moonlight and
shadow, all its windows dark but
one—and that one, in the topmost tier,
showed only a feeble glimmer, so slight
that Alan almost overlooked it.
Hut once discovered, it focused upon
itself his thoughts with a power little
less than hypnotic.
He believed with small doubt that
Hose was a prisoner within those
walls; that Judith must have con
veyed her there with all speed.
And, this being the presumptive case,
that small, high window' of the light
might well be hers.
Directly across tlio street from the
Trine residence, on the opposite cor
ner, a colossal apartment structure
stood half-flnislied, stonework to its
second story, gaunt iron skeleton rear
ing above.
To his infinite disgust, Alan found
the guardian very wide awake, very
much on the job: no chance here to
steal unseen into the building.
This in itself might have been
deemed a suspicious circumstance:
not for nothing does an honest night
watchman so deny the laws of nature
and the tenets of his craft. But Alan
merely praised the man while cursing
the very fact of his existence; and, ac
costing, overcame with bank-notes
what seemed an uncommonly stuooorn
reluctance, and got his way.
He could not know that another
skulked behind a barrier of lime bar
rels and overheard all that passed and,
when Alan had ducked smartly into
the unfinished building, rose and stole
after him with footsteps as noiseless
as a cat’s and a face that had the sav
agery of a tiger's when it was tran
siently revealed in a shaft of moon
lignt.
At length Alan gained the gridiron
of girders on a plane with the lighted
window across the way, and crept
along one of these, gingerly on his
hands and knees, until he came to its
end and might, if ho cared to, look
down a hundred feet to the sidewalks.
That view, however, did not tempt;
he kept his eyes level; and was re
warded with a bare glimpse of a pret
tily-papered wall, framed in the lace of
half-drawn curtains.
And of sudden—whether through
fortuity, or instinct, or the psycho
logical attraction of his steadfast con
centration—the tenant of tlie room
came to the window and stood there
for a little, looking pensively out, alto
gether unconscious of the watcher in
bis aerial coign.
Again a horrible uncertainty har
assed him. Was the woman Rose
or Judith? That she was one of these
he could plainly see. Rut which? Dared
he assume his hopes fuUllled?
With difficulty he detached his
hungry vision from her, and drawing
from liis pocket a small notebook, tore
out a blank page, placed this flat on
the girder, found a pencil, and with
the assistance of a ray or two of
moonlight scrawled a message of al
most stenographic brevity.
When he looked up from this task,
she had vanished.
Sitting up, astride the girder, he
took his watch—a cheap affair he had
picked up when reclothing himself in
the garments of civilized society, at
Providence, that moriiir.g—opened the
back of the case, and closed it upon
_J
Alan's Appearance at the Hotel Monolith.
by applying In person wiin your nriae
to-be. There won't bo time—"
‘‘Then we'll marry In Jersey!" Alan
Insisted. "Dig up some clergyman over
there, if you don’t know one your
self—"
"Oh, I’m well acquainted with the
very man!"
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Time o' Night.
Not ill-pleaeed to be left to his own
devices (whose proposed character
Digby would never have approved had
he so much as suspected them) Alan
none the less deferred action until
after midnight.
And espionage wae all he feared—
save and except always, of course, fail
ure to find his Rose.
It was about one in the morning
when he arrived inconspicuously (but
not so much so as to seem deserving
of police surveillance) in the neigh
borhood of the Riverside drive home of
his mortal enemy, a grim white houso
that towered, stark and tall, upon a
tho folded message.
Then drawing back his arm. he
breathed a silent prayer to the god of
all true lovers, and cast it from him
with all his might—with such force
that it almost unseated him at the end
of the swing. But nothing less would
have served to bridge that yawning
chasm.
And the watch flew straight and
true, squarely through the lighted win
dow and to the further wall. . . .
At that very instant of his exultation
over an obstacle overcome, he heard a
sound behind him of heavy breathing.
The assassin had come that close
upon his prey when Alan turned and
discovered his peril.
The same moonbeam which had
aided Alan in the composition of his
message struck across the other's face,
and showed it like a hideous Chinese
mask of deadly hatred, with its eye
balls glaring and its lips drawn back
from the naked blade gripped between
its teeth—a stiletto nothing short of a
foot in length.
With a sharp, startled movement
Alan swung himself bodily about, so
that, seated again astride the girder,
ho fared the assassin who sat up,
straddling the girder, his feet hooked
beneath it a stiletto poised in his
right hand to strike.
Hut even now' Alan was in little or
no better case than before. If he faced
the thug, he faced him with no arms
other than his bare hands. He Jpid not
even a pen knife in his pockets.
With a low cry of desperation Alan
snatched off his hat, n soft and shape
less felt affair, and flung It squarely In
the fellow's face.
Before he could recover- before,
that is, it dropped away and cleared
his vision, Alan had bent forward and
grasped the wrist of the hand that
held the knife.
He snatched simultaneously ut the
other hand, but it eluded him.
Alan had this advantage, as long ns
the knife might not strike—that his
right arm was free, while the assassin
had only his left. With this he strove
persistently to reach his knife-hand
and possess lulmself of the weapon.
As persistently Alan foiled his purpose
by drugging the knife hand toward him
and swinging it far out to one side. At
the same time he struck repeatedly
with his clenched right fist at the oth
er's face. His blows did little dam
age beyond disconcerting the other;
hut tills proved a very considerable
factor In the duel. In the end, they
served together with that steady, re
sistless downward and outward drag,
to break the grip of the man's locked
legs.
Abruptly he pitched forward on his
face along the girder, V.irking wildly,
grasping at the air. The stiletto fell
from an instinctively relaxed grasp,
and disappeared. And before Alan
could release his hold, or ease the
strain upon the right arm of the as
sassin, this last Imd slipped bodily
from the girder and hung helpless in
space, dangling at the end of Alan's
arm-—with no more than the grip of
live fingers between him and death.
The shock of that unpreeaged turn
brought Alan forward and flat on his
stomach. And the strain on his left
arm was terrific. He doubted if he
could maintain it for another minute
Nor was there any reason why he
should retain it. The end he had de
signed for his victim was merely his
just desert.
And yet Alan could not let him go.
Thus the battle began aaiew—but
now It was a battle with a man half
crazed and struggling so mjully that,
he well-nigh frustrated the efforts of
his rescuer.
In tile upshot the assassin lay like a
limp rag across the girder, head and
arms dangling on one side, legs and
feet on the other, spent with his ter
rific exertions and physically sick with
terror.
And In this state Alan left him: he
had done enough; let the man shift
for himself from this time on.
CHAPTER XXV,
Changeltng.
In the vague, chill gray of that dull
and desolate dawn, Judith stirred ab
ruptly on the couch of a sleepless
night, and with the rapidity of one
who has arrived at a settled purpose
after a long period of doubt and per
plexity, rose and bathed and dressed
herself in negligee.
In the adjoining room she could hear
small, stealthy noises—the sounds
made by her sister moving about and
preparing against the unguessable mo
ment when her rescue would be at
tempted, according to the information
conveyed in that midnight message.
For chance had conspired with her
insomnia to station Juddth in the re
cess of her darkened window, idly
viewing the gaunt framework of the
unfinished building from an angle
which, when Alan edged, out along the
girder, showed him plainly in silhou
ette against the sky.
In Judith's eyes his identity was un
mistakable. She had hardly needed
the night-glasses which presently Bhe
brought to bear upon him at the mo
ment when he was laboriously inditing
his message while grim death stalked
him from behind.
She had seen him throw the watch
and had heard the double thump of its
impact with the wall and floor of
Rose’s bedchamber.
And she had witnessed with wildly
beating heart that duel in the air
able to surmise its outcome only from
the fuel that the victor spared tho life
of the vanquished.
The clock was striking six as she
left her room: across the street work
ingmen were streaming into the build
ing to begin the labors of the day.
Brushing unceremoniously past the
drowsy and indifferent guard in the
corridor outside the door to Rose’s
room, Judith turned the key that re
mained in the lock on the outside, re
moved it, entered, and locked the door
behind her.
Without any surprise she found her
sister already dressed to the point of
donning her outer garments.
Rendered half-frantic by this unex
pected interruption, threatening as It
did the perilous scheme that Alan had
I proposed. Rose greeted her sister with
a countenance at once aghast and
wrathful.
"What do you want?” she demanded
tensely.
"To come to an understanding with
you,” Judith told her coolly.
"There is no understanding possible
between us: you know that as well as
I.”
“Yet one there must be.”
"1 insist that you leave this room at
once!”
"Insist by all means—and be
damned! I may leave this room—and
1 may not, dear little sister. But one
of us will never leave It alive.”
With a start of terror, Rose shrank
back from this strange, wild thing
that wore the very shape and sem
blance of herself.
“What do you mean? You cannot
mean to murder mo in cold blood,
Judith?”
“Not I!" Judith laughed harshly,
“nut, since it has pleased Destiny to
decree that we must both love one
man—let Destiny decide between us
and bear the blame of murder!”
“Judith!”
"One moment!” Crossing to a side
table, Judith took up a glass from a
tray that, held a silver water-pitcher,
and returned with it to the table that
occupied the middle of the floor. At the
same time she opened a hand till then
fnst clenched and disclosed a small
blue bottle with a red label shrieking
the warning "POISON!”
"Strychnine," she explained com
posedly, “in solution.” And emptied
the bottle into the glass.
A measure of courage returned to
Rose. “Do you expect to be able to
make me drink that?” she demanded
contemptuously.
“Not I but Destiny, if It will! Reo
here.” From a pocket of her dressing
gown Judith produced a sealed dock of
playing cards. “Let these declare the
will of Destiny toward us. I will brook
tlie seal, shuffle the cards, and deal,”
ahe explained, suiting action to word.
“The one who gets the trey of hearts
will drain that glass. Is it a bar
gain?"
Never: on, now 1 Know tnat you
arc altogether mad!”
"Perhaps. Are you ready?” And
Judith made up if to deal.
"No—never! I tell you I refuse!”
Hose chattered, terrified.
"You dare not refuse.”
"Why ?"
"Because of this.”
Whipping a small revolver from an
other pocket cf her dressing-gown, Ju
dith placed it on the table, ready to
her hand.
“You will shoot me if I do not con
sent?”
“Not you—but him. If you refuse,
little sister, I will shoot Alan Law
dead when he comes to keep his ap
pointment with you.”
"Ab!” Hose cried in mingled fright
and amazement. "How did you find
out?"
“Never mind, is it a bargain, now,
ubout the trey of hearts? Remember,
I shall keep my word about this pis
tol.”
With a shudder Rose bowed her
head.
"Deal,” she muttered fearfully, “and
may God judge between us!”
One by one she stripped the cards
from tho top of the deck, dealing first
to Rose, then to hereelf.
One by one they fluttered to the
table on either side the glass of poison,
and fell face uppermost.
Tho trey of hearts fell to Judith.
There was an instant of silent dread,
ended by Rose, as Judith's hand moved
steadily toward the glass.
"Judith!” she implored. "Don’t—I
beg of you—I didn't mean it—1 take
back my consent—”
"Too late!" said Judith, lifting tho
glues and eyeing its contents with a
strange smile.
"Judith! you cannot mean to drink
it?"
"Can’t I, though?” the other laughed
mirthlessly. "Just watch me!"
With a strangled cry Rose covered
her face with her hands to shut out
the sight, stood momentarily swaying,
and dropped to the f.^or in a complete
faint.
Delaying only to recognize this phe
nomena with a pitying smile for the
weakness of spirit that caused it, Ju
dith's glance darted through the win
dow and saw that which caused her to
stay her hand an instant longer.
On the topmost tier of girders of the
building opposite, Alan Law stood
amid a little knot of amused and ani
mated laborers, one foot in tho great
steel hook of the hoisting tackle, both
hands clasping the chain thut linked
it to the gigantic block.
And ue Judith stared, he smiled at
something said by one of those about
him, looked back, and waved a hand
to some person Invisible.
Immediately the arm began to lift,
the tackle to move slowly through the
blocks. Very gently he was swung up
and outward. . . ,
With a cry Judith flung tho poison
heedlessly from her, leaped across the
room, and snatched up the street gar
ments Rose had dropped at'her sister s
entrance.
In another moment she was strug
gling madly into them.
Before the shadow of Alan, clinging
to the hook and chain, fell athwart the
l
tW
si
"Not I
but Destiny, If
It Willi”
f Next Installment of the “Trey 0’ Hearts” Will Appear in the Sentinel-Record Next Sunday Morning Oct. 18
window, she was dressed and clam
bered out upon the sill.
•'Sweetheart! My bravest little
woman!’'
The hook hung steadily within six
inches of the window-ledge. Alan ex
tended his arm.
"Nothing to fear, except lest I hold
you too tight, dear one!”
Without a word Judith set her foot
beside his in the hook, surrendered to
his embrace, and closed her eyes.
Immediately they were swung away
I Min tile window, over toward the op
posite sidewalk, and gently lowered to
the street.
"Maybe this isn’t a good scheme!”
Alan exulted in the innocence of his
heart. “But I think it is. And those
workingmen think it a great lark—I
told them the simple truth, you see:
that we were eloping!”
By way of answer Judith breathed
only a word of tenderness.
And that instant the hook paused
nnd Alan stepped off upon the side
walk.
"Safe and sound- and not a soul
over there the wiser as yet!” he de
clared with a derisive nod toward the
home of Trine “Come along. Here's
a limousine waiting. In twenty min
utes we ll he at the ferry, in forty over
in Jersey, within an hour married,
within four hours safe at sea!”
NOTICE
BUILDERS and
CONTRACTORS
For “I” Beams,
Lintels, Anchors,
Fire Escapes,
Structural Iron
Work, Smoke
stacks and Boiler
Casings.
Write or Wire
BEMBERG - BLANZ
IRON WORKS
2ND AND ROCK STREET
LITTLE ROCK, ARK.
LORI DiSTilCE PHOIF 2227
Hot Springs
Confectionery
Where Quality Counts.
Cool days are coining. A cup
of our famous
FAUST BLEND COFFEE
Will make you feel fine. The
finest coffee In all the land.
CALIFORNIA FRUITS.
HOME-MADE CANDIES.
From guaranteed pure iiugredi
ents. made by an expert.
You’re always safe in dealing
with us.
"JIM” AND GEORGE,” Prop.
714 Central Ave. Phone 291.
Chiropractic Adjustment
THE WAY TO GET WELL
Chiropractic Is de
fined by Webster as '
"A system of adjust- 4
Ing the joints, espe
cially of the spine
for the curing of
DISEASE.”
This science ac
counts for, locates
and removes the
cause of most all
human ailments.
Why not have the
cause of your trou
ble explained and
relieved from your
•pine.
Consultation and ex
amination freely ex
tended to all with- j
out charge. ^
I. A. WILLIAMS
CHIROPRACTOR
Moved to
706 1-2 CENTRAL AVE.
PHONE 1118.
TRY OUR MEDICINALLY PURE
ALSO CROUP SUET FOR BABY
HOGABOOM’S
717 CENTRAL AVE.
We ipeclallze In compounding drum
and dispensing physicians' prescription*.
HOT SPRINGS, ARKANSAS.
FURNITURE
228 OUACHITA AVENUE
Highest price* paid for second-hand fur
niture, stoves and sewing machines.
Qeo. R. Gower. Chaa. H. William*,
INDEPENDENT FURNITURE CO.
NEW AND SECOND HAND.
Jalaphona 1M7.

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