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It should I help you. | At all druggists. 9 __ B.W WHY *S A COUGH? Coughing h caused by irritation of the mucous surfaces of the lower air passages. Inhaled dust will make you cough, but Inflammation Is generally the underlying cause. NYAL COMPOUND PINE SYRUP . heals the Inflamed surfaces. BOYER DRUG STORE “Once a Trial—Always Nyal” Model Dm* Store ASHDOWN LOOMS N0. 681 F. A A. M j 'T w!Tl see you again, Mrs. Jenks. 1 must have a long talk with you," Ri eardo told her, and passed on Into the palace: whereupon Mother Jenks once more fervently Implored the Almighty to strike her pink, and the Iron re straint of a long, hard, exciting day be ing relaxed at last, the good sou! bowed her gray head In her arms and wept, moving her body from side to side the while and demanding, of no one in particular, a single legitimate reason why she, n blooming old bag gage and not fit to live, should be the recipient of such manifold hlessings •s this day had brought forth. In the meantime Ricardo, with his hand on the knob of the door leading to the room where Webster was having his wounds dressed, paused suddenly, his attention caught hy the sound of n soh, long-drawn and inexpressibly pa thetic. He listened nnd made up his mind that a woman in the room across the entrance hall was bewailing the death of a loved one who answered to the name of Caliph and John, darling. Further eavesdropping convinced him that Caliph, John, darling, and Mr. John Stuart Webster were one and the same person, nnd so he tilted his head on one side like a cock robin nnd con sidered. "By Jingo, thats most Interesting,’ he decided. "The wounded hero 1ms a sweetheart or a wife—and an Amer ican. too. She must be a recent ac quisition. because nil the time we were together on the steamer coming down here he never spoke of either, despite the fact that we got friendly enough for such confidences. Something fun ny about this. I’d hotter sound the old boy before I start passing out words of comfort to that unhappy female.” lie passed on Into the room. John Stuart Webster hod. by this time, been washed and bandaged, and one of the Snrros servants (for the ex-dictator’s retinue still occupied the palace) hnd, at Dr. Pacheco’s command, prepared, a guest chamber upstairs and furnished a night gown of ample proportions to cover Mr. Webster’s hehandaged but otherwise naked person. A stretcher had just arrived, and the wounded man was about to be carried upstairs. The late financial backer of the revolution was looking very pale and dispirited; for once in his life his whimsical, ban tering nature was subdued. His eyes were closed, and he did not open them when Ricardo entered “Well, I have Sarros,” the latter de el a red. Webster paid not (be slightest atten tion to this announcement. Ricardo bent over him. "Jack, old hoy,” he queried, “do you know a person of feminine persuasion who calls you Ca liph?” John Stuart Webster’s eyes and mouth flew wide open. “What the devil!’’ he tried to roar. “You haven't been speaking to her, have you? If you have. I'll never forgive you, be cause you've spoiled my little sunrise party.” "No. > haven’t been sp<"' ;o? to her. hut she's in the next re > ■ •• vine fit to break her heart becnti' -h? ttiinks you've been killed." “You scoundrel I Aren i ,v<.tt -mian? 00 tell her It’s only a coupl< mne tures, not a blowout." H ighed. “Isn’t It sweet of her to weep over an old hunks like me!” he added softly. “Bless her tender heart'' “Who Is she?’’ Ricardo very curious. “That’s none of your ir.tvs. Yon watt and I’ll tell you. she's iln guoat 1 told you 1 was going to bring to din ner, and that’s enough for you to know for the present. Vaya, you idiot, and bring her In here, so I can assure her my head is bloody hut unbowed. Doc tor, throw that rug over my shanks aud make me look pretty. I’m going to receive company." His glance, bent steadily on the door, had In it some of the alert, bright wlst fuluess frequently to be observed In the eyes of a terrier standing expec tantly before a rat hole. The Instant the door opened and Dolores’ tear stained face nppeared, he called to her with the old-time camaraderie, for he had erased from his mind, for the nonce, the memory of the tragedy of poor Don Juan' Oafetero and was con cerned solely with the task of banish ing the tears from those brown eyes and bringing the Joy of life back to that sweet face. “Helle, Seeress," he called weakly. “Little Johnny’s been fighting again, and the bad boys gave him an all-fired walloping." There was a swift rustle of skirts, and she was bending over him, her hot Itttle palms clasping eagerly his pale rough cheeks. “Oh, my dear, my dear I” she whispered, and then her voice choked with the happy tears and she was sobbing on his wounded shoul der. Ricardo stooped to draw her away, but John Stuart bent upon him • look of such frigMfulneM ”that lie drew back abashed. After all. the past 24 hours had been quite exciting, and Ricardo reflected that John’s inamora ta was tired and frightened and prob ably hadn’t eaten anything all day long, so there was ample excuse for her hysteria. “Come, come, buck up,” Webster soothed her, and helped himself to a long whiff of her fragrant hair. “Old man Webster had one leg in the grave, but they’ve pulled it out again.” Still she sobbed. “Now, listen to me, lady," he com manded with inock severity. “You Just stop that. You’re wasting your sympathy ; and wrhile. of course, I en joy your sympathy a heap. Just pause to reflect on the result If those salt tears should happen to drop Into one of my numerous wounds.” “I’m so sorry for you, Caliph,” she murmured brokenly. “You poor, harm less boy! I don't see how any one could be so fiendIffli as to hurt you when you were so distinctly a non-com batant.” “Thank you. Let us forget The Hague conference for the present, how ever. Have you met your brother?” he whispered. “No, Caliph.” “Ricardo.” “Yes, .Tack.” “Come here. Rick, you scheming, unscrupulous, blood-thirsty adventurer, T have a tremendous surprise In store for you. The sweetest girl In the world —and she's right here-” Itlcardo laughingly held up his hand. ".Tack, my friend,” he interrupted, “you’re too weak to make a speech. Don’t do it. Besides, you do not have to.” He turned and bowed gracefully to Dolores. “I can see for myself she’s the sweetest girl in the world, and that she’s right here." He held out his hand to her. “Jack thinks he’s going to spring a surprise," he continued ma liciously, “quite forgetting that a good soldier never permits himself to be taken by surprise. I know all about his little secret, because I heard you monrnlng for him when you thought he was dead." Ricardo favored her with a knowing wink. “I am delighted to meet the future Mrs. Webster. I quite Understand why you fell In love with him. because, you see, I love him ray self and so dries everybody else.” With typical Castilian couttliness he took her hand, bowed low over It, and kissed it. “I am Ricardo Ltiiz Ruey,” he said, anxious to spare his friend the task of further exhausting conversa tion. “And you are-” "You’re a consummate jackass!” groaned Webster. “I’m only a dear old family friend, and Dolores is going to marry Billy Geary. You Impetuous Idiot! She’s your own sister, Dolores Ruey. She, Mark Twain, and I have ample cause for common complaint against the world because the reports of our death have been grossly exag gerated. She didn’t perish when your father’s administration crumbled. Miss Ruey, this Is your brother, Ricnrdo. Kiss her you damn’ fool—forgive me? Miss Ruey—oh. Lord, nothing matters any more. He’s gummed everything up and ruined my party. I wish I were dead.” Ricardo stared from the outraged Webster to his sister and back again. “Jack Webster," lie declared, “you aren’t crazy, are you?" “Of course, he is—the old dear,” Do lores cried happily, “but I’m not.” She stepped up to her brother, and her arms went around his neck. “Oh, Rick,” she cried, “I’m your sister. Tru ly, I am." "Dolores. My little lost sister, Do lores? Why, I can’t believe It!” “Well, you’d better believe It,” John Stuart Webster growled feebly. “Of course, you can doubt my word and get away with It, now that I’m flat on my back, but If you dure east asper sions on that girl’s veracity. Til mur der you a month from now." He closed his eyes, feeling Instinc tively that he ought not spy on such a sacred family scene. When, however, the affecting meeting was over and Do lores was ruffling the Websterian fore top while her brother pressed the Web sterian hand and tried to say all the things he felt, hut couldn’t express. John Stuart Webster brought them both back to a realization of present conditions. “Don’t thank me, sir," he piped In pnthetlc Imitation of the small boy of melodrama. “I have only done me duty, and for that I cannot accept this purse of gold, even though my father and mother are starving." “Oh, Oaliph, do be serious.” Dolores pleaded. Do looked up at her fondly. “Take your brother out to Mother jenks and prove your case. Miss Ruey,” he ad vised her. “And while you’re at It, I certainly hope somebody will remem ber I’m not accustomed to reposing on a center table. Rick, If you can per suade some citizen to put me to bed, I’d be obliged. I’m dead tired, old horse. I’rp—ab—sleepy ” Ilia bead rolled weakly to one side, for he had been playing a part and had nerved hiqtself to finish it grace fully, even In hi* weakened condition. He sighed, moaned slightly, and slipped into unconsciousness. CHAPTER XVII. Throughout the night there was spo radic firing here and there In the city, as the Ruey followers relentlessly hunted down the isolated detachment of government troops which had es caped annihilation and capture In the final rout and fallen back on the city, where, concealing themselves accord ing to their nature and Inclination, they indulged in more or less sniping from windows and the roofs of build ings. The practice of talcing no pris oners was an old one In Sobrante, and few presidents had done more than Sarros to keep that custom alive f er go, firm In the couviettm <J»at to sur render was tantamount to facing a fir ing squad at daylight, the majority of these stragglers, with consummate courage, fought to the death. The capture of Buenaventura was alone sufficient to Insure a brief revo lution. but the capture of Sarros was ample guarantee that the resistance to the new order of things was already at an end. However, Ricardo Ruey felt that the prompt execution of Sar ros would be an added guarantee of peace by effectually discouraging any opposition to the rebel cause In the outlying districts, where a few isolated garrisons still remained in Ignorance of the momentous events being enacted in the capital. For the time being, Ricar do was master of life and death in So brante, and all of his advisers and sup porters agreed with him that a so called trial of the ex-dictator would be a rather useless affair. His life was forfeit a hundred times for murder and treason, and to he ponderous over his elimination would savor of mockery. Accordingly, at midnight, a priest en tered flic room in the arsenal where Semis was confined, and shrived him. Throughout (he night the priest re mained with him, and wfien that ear ly morning march to the cemetery commenced, lie walked beside Sarros, repeating the prayers for the dying. Upon reaching the cemetery there was a slight wait until a carriage drove up an discharged Ricardo Ruey and Mother .Tenks. The sergeant In command of the squad saluted and was briefly ordered to proceed with the matter in hand; whereupon he turned to Sarros, who with the customary sang froid of his kind upon such oc casions was calmly smoking, and bowed deprecatlngly. Sarros actually smiled upon him. “Adlos, amigos,” he murmured. Then, as an afterthought and probably because he was sufficient of an egoist to desire to appear a mar tyr, he added heroically: “I die for my country. May God have mercy on my enemies.” “If you’d rnred to play a gentleman’s game, you blighter, you might ’ave lived for your bally country," Mother Jenks reminded him in English. “Won der if the beggar’ll wilt or will ’e go through smilin’ like my sainted ’Enery on the syme spot.” She need not have worried. It re quires a strong man to be dictator of a roman candle republic for 15 years, and whatever his sins of omission or commission, Sarros did not lack ani mal courage. Alone and unattended he limped away among the graves to the wall on the other side of the ceme tery and placed his back against It, negligently. In the attitude of a devil may-care fellow without a worry in life. The sergeant waited respectfully until Sarros had finished his cigarette; when he tossed it away and straight ened to attention, the sergeant knew he was ready to die. At his command there was a sudden rattle of bolts as the cartridges slid from the magazines Into the breeches; there followed a mo mentary halt, another command; the squad was aiming when Ricardo Ruey called sharply: “Sergeant, do not give the order to fire.” The rifles were lowered and the men gazed wouderingly at Ricardo. “He’s too brave,” Ricardo complained. “D-hlA, I can’t kill him as I would a mad dog. I’ve got to give him a chance.” The sergeant raised his brows ex pressively. Ah, the ley fuga, that pop ular form of execution where the pris oner Is given a running chance, and the firing squad practices wing shooting. If the prisoner manages, miraculously, to escape, he is not pursued! A doubt, however, crossed the ser geant’s mind. "But my general,” he expostulated, “Senor Sarros cannot ac cept the ley fuga. He Is very lame, 'niat Is not giving him the chance your Excellency desires he should have.” “I wasn’t thinking of that,” Ricardo replied. "I was thinking I’m killing Mm’ without a fair trial for ftie rea . Ron that he’s so Infernally ripe for the gallows that a trial would have been a Joke. Nevertheless, I am real ly killing him because he killed my father—and that Is scarcely fair. My father was a gentleman. Sergeant, is your pistol Innded?" ’ res, uencmi. "Give It to Senor Sarros.” As the sergeant started forward to c<*uply Ricardo drew his own service revolver and then motioned Mother Jenks and the firing squad to stand •side while he crowed to the center of the cemetery. “Sarros,” he called, am going to let God decide which one of us shall live. When the sergeant gives the command to fire, I shall open fire on you, and you are free to do the same to me. Sergeant, If he kills me and escapes unhurt, my orders are to escort him to the bay In my carriage and put him safely aboard the steam er." Mother Jenks sat down on a tomb stone. "Gord’s truth!" she gasped, “but there’s a rare plucked ’un.” Aloud she croaked: “Don’t be a bally aw, sir.” “Silence!" he commanded. The sergeant handed Sarros the re volver. “You heard what I saldT" Ri cardo called. - Sarros bowed gravely. “You understand your orders, Ser geant?” “Yes, General." “Very well. Proceed. If this pris oner fires before you give the word, have your squad riddle him." The sergeant backed away and gazed owlishl.v from the prisoner to his cap tor. “Ready I” he called. Both revol vers came up. "Fire!" he shouted, and the two shots were discharged sb (Oontlnued on next page) First, because you only use a level tea- ifiix 11 I spoonful to a cup of sifted flour; Ij a Secondly, because you get perfect results f| Thirdly, because you get a big, full- Ir gv' pound, 16-oz. can for 30c. F. B. 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