Newspaper Page Text
CHAPTER VII.—Continued. "Called, Olivo?" His tones were •tartled. Ho looked at her In bewil derment. What did she mean?" "Yes," she said, in feverish excite ment, "he muBt He shook his head. The look of pain that came into her face made him wince. "But he will come when he knows I have no bitterness loft against him, when he knows that I have forgiven everything. Oh, tell me you think he will come, Stephen!" she cried, piti fully. "You shall go to him from me, and he will come. I am glad I haven't lost my looks I made the nurse bring mo a glass, I was so afraid, be cause lie used to say I had the most beautiful eyes lie had evei* seen. And when he conies I want him to see the '-7oinan he used to care for." Stephen Ruthen gave a sharp in drawn breath like a sob. The tragic revelation that had broken upon him took him by *he throat. Living, l'hilip Hume had come be tween him and the woman he loved dead, thiB man still stood between them. But it was not that. Though he had given to Olive the one supreme love of his life, a love capable of any sacrifice to serve on her or spare her pain, he had realized three years ago .—-he had realized again when she eame to him with the night and the •bortn to tell him of her wrongs—that he and she were set apart as by fate that his must be an austere love, giv ing and seeking no return. It was an other thought, the unconscious revela tlon of her pitiful appeal, that stirred Stephen Ruthen by its strangeness. Not only had her frenzy of humilia tion and despair, the fierce sense of bitterness and wrong at this man's cruelty, faded Into the background of her memory, but the sense and stain of that guilt, which in her distraught state had hardly been guilt, had fallen off her soul. She had forgotten it as though It had not been! In some providential and inexplica ble way all recollection of stealing out on that night to tajte a wild vengeance had been sponged''.out, from her mind. She still thought of Philip Hume as living she loved him still—her love that had been great enough to forgive. She still clung to the dream of win ning him ljack to his broken allegl wee—the tfuli* died by her hand! This was the revelation that swept in upon Stephen Ruthen. He had never dreaiiied of Its possibility. Forgotten! If only Olive never remembered! That was Stephen's prayer, .as he look ed down at the beautiful face. If only she never remembered! She was still In the flush of youth the grief would pass, her grief and horror when she learned of Philip Hume's faite—for time 1B 'very merciful to youth, even |n a great sofYow that white face would yet be radiant again with Joy and laiightefr. but only so long as that sleeping lay unstirred. Through a Woman's Heart. She must never know-what she had done ,, the knowledge that would sure ly drive her to despair, strike bank rupt of hope and'happiness' all her ftP ture.-If he could not guard-her from. It. The man she still lovdd—the. man •he had killfe'd! "Stephen, why dofi't you speak?" He looked down, into the wide, pa thetic eyes. He had to prevaricate. "Olfve, I—I haven't seen Hume for weeks. He has been away from hotno all the time you have been- 111 be* Is. stllliaway,"he By Sidney 'Warwick. have known I was ly ing here III. Has ha called to ask after me? He cared for me once— *t- least, he once cared: and he must have been a Iittie sorry. Ou, it I couM only think that he had been a little The thaw was temporarily arrested •orry when he knew how 111 1 was! "But, Olive, can you have forgot ten?" he broke out, In & strangled rolce. He could go no farther. The words seemed to choke him. oue shook her hssd. "No, I have not forgotten how I came to you full of passionate anger, how I spoke of him bitterly—wildly only In my heart 1 cared for him all the time, Stephen. Deeper than all the bitterness, deeper than all my an ger was still my love," she cried, with a tenderness In her voice, a tremu lous wistfufyess about her mouth. "When a woman gives her love as I gave mine, nothing can kill It.. Ste phen. Oh, I know he wrote that cruel letter to me, but perhaps he didn't mean It perhaps he is sorry now that he knows I have been ill. Has be been or asked after me?" appeal ing. said, speaking with tn effort. Then, to prevent further ques tion*^ he added, quickly, "I miist not stay an&Umger I have exceeded the HmJ the doctor allowed me—he.said I mtfeht only see you ior a minute or two'and that I was not to let you talk. We^wiuit you to get strong and well ouldltly. you know." He stole out of the,darkened room. O0ve had forgotten! It was like a miracle. A load seemed to have sUp nedlfrom bis shoulders. It only tee V.ndtagoff of the dead man did not that sleepiJM .WPfnory to life •:was the oolSf««»fr H? prayefc rould never remember! Or If she iber ttid this man who was !»i she must bo convinced in spite of her self that it was only some fancy of her delirium that had never touched nor real life that it was absolutely im possible she could have killed Philip Hume. He was a minister of God—but he wag also a man, the man who loved her. And if a lie could save her f'no Hay passed, bringing no news. that night by a brief return of the frost—It was thawing again the noxt morning but the frozen snow of those three weeks only surrendered slowly. Another day passed. It was on the third morning that the doctor with some reluctance gave per mission for his patient to go down stairs for a little while. She was still loo weak to walk more than a few stops she had to be carried down. In the study a great Are of logs reared cheerfully up the chimney Olive sat, looking white and frail, staring Intent ly into It. Outside the rain beat on the window panon now an then a clod of snow would slide over the gut ter of the roof and fall with a thud. Stephen sat In his chair by his writing desk. Hilda was busy in the kitchen cook ing. She put a gay, smiling face in at the door al intervals snatched from her duties she made such a charm ing picture, with hci sleeves rolled up almost to the shoulder, her pretty rounded arms covered with flour, that I it was a pity Jack Lathom could not I have seen her then. When the door had closed on her on one of these fl ing visits, Olive had spoken again of Philip Hume. "To all my questions you only say that lie is not at. home," she broke out presently. "1 believe you are keep ing something hack from me—I am sure you are keeping something back!" she cried. "What should I be keeping from you?" he asked, evasively. "He has not been in the village for three weeks." The rector had averted his face to avoid meeting her questioning eyes the unexpected challenge of her words had disconcerted him. He bent down as if to examine one of the keys on the tiny bunch hanging from Hie key hole of the top drawer he was afraid she might read in his face how much her words had disconcerted him. That top drawer of his desk Stephen Ruthen had for three weeks kept locked, although he was a man who seldom locked up anything had kept It locked and the key in his pocket. He had had occasion to open the drawer that morning: the sight of what lay inside had made him wonder again how he was effectually to get rid of it—that sinister piece of evi dence connected with an as yet undis covered crime. It was so difficult to dispose of such pieces of evidence they had a way of turning up again almost miraculously, as criminal rec ords so frequently showed, as though fire could not destroy them, nor earth or water hold them. He had closed the drawer and locked It. Now on an impulse he turned the key and pulled open the drawer again, and looked at the thing lying there as though it possessed a horrible fascination for him—the re volver that he had brought hack on that fatal night, a tiny weapon, rusted in places. There was a marie of rust staining the top sheet of a pile of ser mon paper on which it lay. The brown splash in the center of the white sheet gave It a grotesque resemblance to an ace of hearts. Stephen had feared te leave the weapon near the scene of the tragedy, afraid lest In some unforeseen way It might prove a clue implicating Olive. How was he to dispose of it? He had asked himself that question a dozen times. At flrst signt it had appeared a slm pie matter so small an object had seem«d a thing easily made, away with yet It had presented difficul ties. One night he had stolen out, intending to make a hole in the ice and drop it Into the river but rivers have ^ven up similar secrets before and he dared run no risk But it must be disposed of, and so effectually that no Chance could bring, it to light again. "Stephen!" He looked up quickly from the 'draw er where that grim thing was. The desk, plied with books, was between them, and it was impossible that Olive .could see It' or even the open drawer yet he started and Instinct ively made a movement to close it,\as the sound- of her voice reached him. "Stephen, what is it you are keeping from me? Your manner tells mi Her words ended abruptly. Some one had come up the garden path, passing the window hurriedly there was a loud knock on the door, starftiijg Olive by Its suddenness she had not seen the man passthe win dow.. Stephen-had caught a glimpse of the man's.figure—Burrow, the verger of the church. The knock was quick ly repeated—the urgent, Insistent sum mons of an Impatient pr agitated hand. Why the thought should have in stlnctively flashed across his mind Stephen could scarcely have told, yet he was sure that that knock only meant one thing, it was the news at last that had been three weeks com ing—news at last tha tthe dead man was found. Burrow, when business brought him to the rectory, usually went to the side door and knocked in an almost apologetic way. Only some thing that had startled hiin very much would have made him depart so far from his usual rule. Rat-tat-tat! For a moment a heavy hush of expectation hung in the room where the man and the woman were. Stephen heard the maid open the front door, could hear Burrow's voice, startled and unlike its usual tones "Is the master in? I must see him at once, If he is. A terrible discov ery's been made." Stephen leapt to his feet and, not waiting for the servant, to bring the message, strode out quickly into the hall, shutting the door after him. On the threshold of the front door Burrow v.a« standing. He burst out excitedly, almost incoherently, in a flood of w/irds, as the rector came towards him "There's terrible news, parson 1 came at once to tell you. They've found him lying dead, shot—not sui cide: the doctor says he couldn't pos sibly have fired the shot himself— half buried in a drift by the Cross Ways. It was Jim the Carrier made the discovery ho saw the hand stick ing out of the snow, as though the dead man was pointing! It gave him a rare turn and then when he saw It was Mr. Philip Hume, missing these three weeks "Hush, man!" cried the rector. The man's voice was raised excited ly, and Stephen Ruthen had remem bered that, only a wall and a closed door divided them from Olive. His warning was too late. As the exclamation left his Tips a wild cry broke from the room1 Ste phen Ruthen had just left. Olive had heard the words' Olive knew! With a blanched face he rushed back to the study. Olive had left her seat by the fl're perhaps she had risen to catch the news the verger brought. She was standing by his desk—by that drawer that Stephen remembered he had barely closed. The drawer was more than half open' now, and Olive was standing as though turned to stone, with a look of intense horror frozen on the white face, one hand holding the half-rusted weapon, her dilated eyes riveted upon it, as though the sight of the revolver seemed to fit in with some dream that had haunted her delirium. Stephen Ruthen caught his breath. For an instant he thought that the memory of her act had swept back on Olive at the hearing of Burrow's news—at the sight of that weapon that her fingers had clasped or.ee be fore. Her first words undeceived him the look in her face undeceived him. as he paused aghast on the threshold. Shot—murdered—the man I loved!" she broke out, wildly. Her eyes fastened themselves on his face there was suspicion in their depths mingling with their horror. The fierce, gleaming eyes were like an accusation. Shaking all over, Ste phen Ruthen sprang forward and snatched the revolver from her hand, almost roughly. The action seemed to confirm the suspicion that her face expressed. "And you—you she began, wildly. What other words she would have said died on her lips. She swayed forward. Stephen Ruthen caught the fainting woman as she was falling. (To Be Continued.) WHALE STOLE THEIR LINE. The Monster Also Made Away With'a Good Harpoon. Up among the torn bergs of the Arctic a monster whale is cruising about with a harpoon embedded in his thick \ack and something less than half a mile of stout hempen rope trailing after him. The crew of the steam whaler Thrasher, which returned Sunday night front an eight months' cruise in the icy north, declare that "Mister Whale got all that was coming to him." "He got away from us," muttered the mate, spitting viciously into the scuppers, "but we will get him next season. It was good rope we used, and he'll get tangled up on something so we will be one whale to the good when we get back there. "He was a bad one though. You see Silva, the boat steerer, slung the hook into him when we- were in open water between two big bergs. Off he goes with the stick in his back, and the rope went out like a man tum bling from the loft. He ducked and dived until one tub of rope was gone, and he did the same with another. He was making for the nearest floe and when he reached It he spit a lot of Water into th? air and took a deep dive. The edge'of the ice cut the rope like a knife and he was off for good, with 2,000 feet of the Thrasher's line and a good harpoon with him." Life In Rural France. Time nr.d labor are the only things of which the dweller in provincial France Is lavish. He will spend hours In chaffering over the most trifling bargain, and would deem the demand for an elgbt-bour day the request of a lunatic.- The thrift of the French peas antry Is omnipresent. Hemmed In. "Convention hems UB in, after all." "How now, .girl?" "I want to wear a green hat, and that shade is not a match tor my hair. Yet I haven't the nerve to get my hair dyed green." Souths. Dakota Omni •tat* Ktwi tat Paragraph*. Peter Warness, mail carrier on Ru ral Route No. 2, died suddenly at Vol ga of heart failure. He leaves a wife and eight children. Arlington has a full-fledged volun teer fire department. The following of ficers were elected: Chief, Aimer Carlson assistant chief, Fred Mas sai'. William Raseh, convicted of rape at Huron, who was sentenced to seven years and seven months, has succeed ed in obtaining a stay of judgment for sixty days. The ease of Norman A. Nelson, who contested the election of Lewis Berke ley as county commissioner from the Third district of Yankton county, has been decided in Mr. Berkeley's favor. Miss-Alta Potts, formerly a resident of Spearfish, and who for a year or more was a member of a Minneapo lis orchestra and achieved a great deal of fame as a trombone player, is at the home of her mother at Sheri dan, Wyo., suffering from the effects of a paralytic stroke in her right arm. At. Trie annual business meeting of the members of the Germania verein of Sioux Falls the following officers were elected: President, A. J. Yeager vice president, F. Schumacher secre tary, Ed Baumheier treasurer, N. D. Rosier librarian, Adolph Ziska over seer. Car! Brucker. The verein is the leading German-American organiza tion of its- kind in South Dakota. J. W. Ratfibun, a wei'S known home steader, residing near Kadoka, was fortunate enwtigh to recapture a genu ine Rocky mountain sable, which doubtless had' wandered to this re gion from the Rocky mountains. It was the first animal of the kind ever seen in this part of the country. It fs the most valuable of th? producing animals, a single fur being worth from *20 to $50. Just as the Chrismas gayety at Lead was at its height, Mrs. George L. Inman, a well' known resident of that city, breathed her last after a two-years' illness. Death was due to tuberculosis. Mrs. Inman was a Black Hills girl, having been reared in the local schools and at the Lead high school, where she attained high hon ors. She leaves four young children besides lier husband. Peter Marquardt of. Madisoa was run over by a switch engine and in stantly killed in the railway yards, where he went to mail a letter in a mail car. While returning he was struck from behind by the engine, in full view of the crowd: on the depot platform. The body was literally ground to pieces. Marquardt was a pioneer settler of the county and one of the most prominent Odd Fellows of the state, having been, a past grand master. Clever irnparsonations of the best known nursery characters ill ancient childish rhymes was the feature of the Christmas entertainment given by the tiny pupils ot the Hearst Memorial kindergarten at Lead. The children took the parts of Little- Red Riding Hood, Little Bo Peep and a score of other well known figures and acted with unusual skill. The school is the gift of Mrs, Phoebe Hearst of New York, and1 has accomplished a wonder ful work, among the children of the city. The total return ©t. state taxes on the December call has brought to the state treasury $343,883.26. Of this $261,339.50 goes into the state general fund',, and' out of it there has been a call' made of $180,000. The balance will go into the hands of the new treasurer. The twine plant revolving fund is practically all in with this call. It amounts to $316,509. Out of this $170,000 is deposited to the credit of the state and draws 3 per cent inter est for the fund. After the call of this month the outstanding debt of the state will be over $600,000 In gen eral fund and emergency warrants. Sick and alone, George Maxwell1, a recluse and old-time settler living north and east of Spearfish, died In his cabin, and for six days the body lay without being discovered. People who were accustomed to see the old man in front of his place finally started an investigation, which led to the finding of his remains. Maxwell was sixty years of age, and had been here over fifteen years. He owned sQme little property, but took no notice of the world efceept to come to town to make necessary purchases. He is said to have relatives at Strawberry Point, Iowa, who have been wired. In view of the .fact that a new trial ot Mrs. Emma Kaufmann, on a charge of having murdered her young, domes tic, Agnes Polreis, is expected to take place at Flandreau In March, the pub lic will be interested in information received from Parkston to the effect that negotiations are in progress be tween a committee of Parkston busi ness men, which provided special counsel tor the prosecution at the flrst trial, and Congressman Frank M. Nye of Minneapolis to have him take charge of the prosecution at the ap- proachtng new trial. if ft VOUCHED FOR THE BARKEEPER. 'Vashfngton Temperance Official Was Put In a Tight Place. There comes aver a certain official in this city a feeling of sadness that bis soul cannot resist when he consid 3is the misfortune attending him who seeks to aid his brother man, writes a Washington correspondent. Last week an individual from Ire land, verdant as the grass of his Em erald Isle, drifted into Washington and besought aid of friends that he might land a position lightly tossing mixtures across the festive bar. He met a friend, also Irish, and to this 'riend lie confessed his ambition to be come a first-class mixologist in the zapital of the nation. The friend re membered the official, who is a proper prohibitionist, and called him up over '.lie phone. "I've a friend just arrived from Ire land," said he, "aim 1 want you as a personal favor to write him a neat iittie letter explaining that you regard him as an ideal concoctor of mixed bug juice. Take it from me he is He mixed me a cocktail once that, floated me for a week. I know what I'm talking about." So the dear, kind official who never drinks—never, never drinks, mind you —agreed to write for the ardent mix ologist a letter of effusiveness that would touch the heart of any barkeep in town. Toward'a business office, where the official and numerous co-workers and the man who hires him were gath ered, the man with the ambition wended his weary way. The official' was seated in a calm state delivering an eloquent address on the beauties of lemonade to an ap preciative audience, when from with out the door came a booming voice, inquiring whether Mr. was around. The official looked up on hearing his name called and inquired who desired the pleasure of his company and con versation. In walked ilie• man with the ambi tion to mix them for Washington citi zens, his genial face aglow with sun burn and perspiration. "O'm lukin' for a man by the name of Mistiier reiterated' the man with ihe ambition, "are you him?" "I am he." replied the official, im pressively and gramattieally. "Oi'm the bahr-thinder thol's lukin' for a letti-r of testimonial." an nounced the man from tile lumeruld Me. Somebody snickered. The official let out a noise nice rhe snort of a wounded walrus. "My man." he protested, "I— "Yis, I know," remarked the son of IOrin, "but yez see they told me thot if Oi could git tl-ot litter of reconi inindashim from ye. Oi could sdt a job at any place in town." The official—the official who never drinks—gazed at the apoplectic faces of his dear friends, and at the look nf mild, sad "how could you db it" reproach on the face of (lie man who hires him, and he turned toward' the fatuously happy searcher for a: posi tion as dispenser of drinkables "Come, with me. my man: come with me," he said in a slightly choked voice, taking the seeker after a. posi tion by the arm. Together they walked away to a lit tle office, where the official, sat down and wrote the letter. And since that time he has been debating whether he would do best to kill the searcher for a position or the man who got him to write the letter, or both. All Saw to Dog's Comfort. Is it possible—can it be possible— that Washington has a bad name in the south with respect to its treatment of dogs? Of course in the south there are—according to perfectly unreliable statist.ics-^-14 hound 'dogs to every square foot-of territory, and if they all were muzzled—according to the same statistics—'twould take the leather and hide output of the entire middle west for three years. But to the point. A newspaper man was down in the freight yards of the Union station just the £)ther day and passed a baggage car in which was a box with a slatted front containing tWo handsome collie dogs, the kind one-sees in Landseer's paintings. The box was addressed to New York and bad been shipped from a North Caro Tina point. Tacked on the front of the box was a placard containing a crude ly printed sign which read: "When we're in Washington please give us a drink of water. We won't bite- you." I wonder if that was a slur on the town? But however it was intended, the suggestion was most efficacious. Hardly a man, woman or child passed that crate and saw the sign without stopping to peer in and note if the tin pan in one corner had plenty of water in it.—Washington Post. Special Quarters for President. President Roosevelt, returning to Washington from Oyster Bay to re sume his final season's work as pres ident, informally dedicated the "Pres idential Station." During the absence of the chief magistrate from the cap ital the finishing touches were put I upon the great railway terminal which has been nicknamed the President's station by reason of the fact that for the flrst time there has been provided in an edifice of this kind special apart ments for the use of the president of the United States when setting out upon or returning from a journey. Length. Rivers—No I've no time to go and play golf. Can't you see I'm up to my ears in work? ®,®ok•—Ye8 but that leaves a con siderable margin unoccupied. Better icon**, qlfl..man.—Chicago Tribune HURT IN A WRECK. Kidneys Badly Injured and Haalth Se riously Impaired. William White, R. R. man, 201 Con stantine Street, Three Rivers, Mich., says: "In a railroad collision my kidneys must have been hurt, as I passed bloody urine with pain for a long time after, was weak and thin and so I could not work. Two years after I went to the hos pital and remained al most six- months, but my case seemed hopeless. The urine passed involun tarily. Two months ago I began tak ing Doan's Kidney Pills and the im provement has been wonderful. Four boxes have done me more good than all the doctoring of seven years. I gained so much that my friends won der at it." Sold by all dealers. 50c a box. Fos ter-Miibiirn Co., Buffalo, N. Y. Harvard's Ydumg Medical Dean. A year ago Henry Asbury Christian, who is now only thirty-one years old, was a mere assistant in the theory and practice of medicine at the Har vard medical school', and three weeks ago he began bis work as dean of this same school. What is more, he is a regular professor, giving courses of instruction. He is a very busy mna these days, and! is takiug hold of the many sides of his new work with en thusiasm bordering on- avidity. Har vard often pushes forward an able young man, and already this one i» showing his worth. High' Knock. O'Toole He iiisuited tae to ste face. Harrigan Awn' vez didn't make him measure the floor? O'Toole-—Bedad, no! OI hit him- so harrud he measured th* ceilin'. HANDS RAW AND SCALY. Itched and Burned Terribly—CouW Not Move Thumbs Without Flesh Cracking—Sleep Impossible Cuticura Soon Cured His Eczema. "An itching humor covered' both my hands and got up over my wrists and even up to the elbows. The itching and burning were terrible. My hands got all scaly and when I scratched, the surface would be covered with blis ters and then get raw. The eczema got so bad that I could not move my thumbs without deep cracks appearing. I went to my doctor, but his medicine could only stop the itching. At night I suffered so fearfully that I could not sleep. I could not bear to touch my hands with water. This went on for three months and I was fairly worn out. At last I got the Cuticura Reme dies and in a month I was cured. Wal ter H. Cox, 16 Somerset St., Boston, Mass., Sept. 25, 1908." Totter Drag Ctaum.^Corp., Sole-Props^ Boston. HARE FOR JURY'S DINNER. Hunted Morning, Served Evening* Ac cording to Old English Custom. The quaint custom of hunting the hare in ihe morning, to be served up for the jury's dinner at the annual Court Baron, has just' been revived at Chard. The custom has heen discarded for the last forty years, but in the old time it excited a great deal of inter est. A local pack of hounds used to lnint the Manor lands in the morning, and the first hare killed was sent back to the chief hotel for the dinner of the jury appointed at the Court Baron. It is said that, another feature of the dinner was an enormous bowl of punch, the contents of which would cost as much as £8. The young Earl Poulett, who is the lord ot the manor of Chard, brought: over the Seavington pack of hounds this week and the Mayor presented his lordship with a gold mounted hunting crop as a souvenir of the occasion. Later in the day the Court Baron dinner was held and the hunted hare was served up with all the honors. Judge Beresford held the monthly sitting of the County Court in the morning and in honor of the old cus tom decided: to postpone Judgment summonses till the next court in or der that there might be no commit ment of debtors to prison on that au* spicious. occasion. THEN AND NOW Complete Recovery from Coffee Ills. "About nine years ago my daughter, from coffee drinking, was on the verge of nervous prostration," writes a Louis ville lady. "She was confined for the most part to her home. "When she attempted a, trip down town she was often brought home in a cab and would be prostrated for days afterwards. "On the advice of her physician she gave up coffee and tea, drank Postum and ate Grape-Nuts for breakfast. "She liked Postum from the very beginning and we soon saw improve ment. To-day she is in perfect health, the mother of Ave children, all of whom are fond of Postum. "She has recovered, is a member of three charity organizations and a club' holding an office in each. We give Postum and Grape-Nuts the credit for her recovery." "There's a Reason." _Name given by Postum Co., Battle week, Mich. Read, "The Road to WellvHle," in pkgs. r«7.4:r:Ue'