Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 13, Number 50, Decatur, Adams County, 27 February 1915 — Page 2

— I "’I THE MASTER KEY. CHAPTER VII. _____ Wilkerzon the Plotter. Will EX he had thoroughly learned his lesson Wilkerson coolly, in spite of the letter he hud received from Jean Parnell in New York, telling him of her willingness to finance her scheme. determined he must he friends with John Dorr, ut least outwardly. So he smoothed out the visible wrinkles in his face, trying to veil the malicious gleam in his eyes, ami spent two days quietly trying to show his nniinW’ty. not only to the miners, but to Dorr himself. Wilkerson was absolutely certain that his old partner, Thomas Gallon, had really made a rich find and that he hud lost the location and accepted •■The Muster Key'’ as a substitute l-n the hope that by working it thoroughly he might tind the mother lode. In other words, careful manipulation of in 7 : A ■ ''X '< “Look here, Wilkerson, maybe both of us have made a mistake.’’ the present mine, painstaking toil in figuring out the trend of the various veins, would lead to that particular pot of gold which had been at the end of Gallon s youthful rainbow of hopes. Wilkerson was determined to be master of “The Master Key.” He needed the skilled aid of John Dorr with bis engineering knowledge. John Dorr knew that there was a tremendous secret in Gallon's life represented by the golden key which he had torn from his neck and handed to Huth when he was dying. That key had figures on it., He understood ,tiiaj those scratches on that golden surface represented something tremendously important, and that the old man had committed Ruth to his charge and had spoken of Wilkerson as his former partner and said, “Wilkerson knows.” What was It that Wilkerson knew? It was better, thought John, to accept his amiable advances and thereby possibly gain his confidence and find out for Ruth's sake that secret which Thomas Gallon had taken to his grave. So on the second day after the restoration of the old scale of wages and his own reappointment as engineer in charge John went down to the office and said bluntly: "Look here. Wilkerson. maybe both of us have made a mistake. I'm sure my only aim is to help out in the promotion of ‘The Master Key.’ ” Wilkerson received him amiably. “I'm sure my only Interest in this business is to fetch into good ore. All that we are digging out now is dirt without any pay In it.” “I think I know where we can strike first class stuff,” Dorr returned. “There is sure pay rock if we travel south from that main tunnel. We may have to go a couple of hundred feet.” Wilkerson looked at him shrewdly. "That will cost money,” he remarked. “But I’ll take this up with Ruth.” John looked at him with a faint trace of the old enmity in his eyes. He did not like to hear the first name of the mistress of "The Master Key” on those lips. “If the mine is not paying it’s up to us to make it pay,” he remarked. When Wilkerson entered the bungalow Ruth perceived a great change in his attitude. He was no longer sullen, and he was evidently worried. It was a clean worry, and she smiled nt him. Had not her father come in with that expression on his face many times? She put her chin in the cup of her hands and asked cheerfully, “What is it. Mr. Wilkerson?” “May I sit down?” he said awkwardly. She motioned to a chair, and he pulled out of his pocket a paper covered with figures. "I think you ought to know how things are going along. Miss Gallon," he said, with unusual formality. “When your father made me superintendent of this mine 1 did not realize that the responsibility was so heavy as it is. We are not making any money. We are losing money. You can see by the reports which I have here that our cleanup lately has been far less than our expenses, and our last one showed practically nothing. We must find the vein again. To do so we must have money. There is no money in ‘The Master Key’ mine.” “That’s what father used to say sometimes,” said Ruth quietly. “But he always got it"

Wilkerson flushed. "Miss Gallon, 1 hope that you don't think that I'm not I doing my best. 1 am. John Dorr and I have gone over this mutter together. He agrees with me that we have absoI lately lost the vein and that if 'The I Master Key' la to pay anything more ' we must tind it again." Ruth's expression softened at the I mention of John Dorr's name. "Whnt ■ does he think?” she demanded. "What ’ is the chance of finding it again?” I “If we run west Dorr thinks," said Wilkerson slowly, "well recover the i vein, but that will cost money, which we haven't got. Do you realize. Miss Gallon, that the pay roll here is over SI,OOO n day? Within a week I have to pay out over $30,000 for the month, and I tell you frankly that when 1 have paid that there will be no more money to the account of ‘The Master Key' in the bank in Silent Valley.” Ruth realized that he was speaking the truth, even lessening the imine diateness of the catastrophe, but her distaste of the man was too great to allow her to discuss the matter with him in the intimate way v. ileh she felt was necessary. She s' <t s. e John 1 iorr. She quickly dismissed Wilkerson and then went to Dorr's office herself, meet lug him at the door, "She bore as a gift a small basket of fruit. Without preliminaries she said, "John, are we broke?” He laughed; then his face grew grave. “The mine is not paying.” he said briefly. “But can’t we make it pay? What is the matter?” "Money.” sntd John. “But why money?” “It will cost SIO,OOO to drive that new tunnel.” John added as they en tered the office. “But Mr. Wilkerson just said he was going to pay over $30,000 to the men,” Ruth said soberly. “If we have that much money, why can't we”— A tenderness flooded Dorr’s eyes. He comprehended her helplessness, understood why old Thomas Gallon had been so insistent that he, John Dorr, should look after her. She was a mere child He tried to explain the exact situation, with the result that Ruth finally push ed him off his high stool, got up on it herself and wrote in a large, childish ■hand right across the face of one of his new drawings, "1 must raise $lO.000!” She swung around to John and asked. “How can I get $10,000?” Dorr hesitated. Ills plan was risky in view of Wilkerson's attitude, but. after all. the money must be raised. He said quietly. "Pledge the stock you own in 'The Master Key.’ 1 know a man in New York who will loan you SIO,OOO on it.” He bent over her ear nestly. “But listen. Ruth. If we spend the SIO,OOO and we don’t find the mother lode, you lose the mine. It’s just like a mortgage on a farm.” “But you wouldn't suggest this if it weren’t the only way out,” she said briefly. “Now, how am Ito do this?” "You must go to New York and see George Everett. I will give you a let ter to him, and he will see to it that you get the extra money we need. Meanwhile I’ll keep the mine going.” Ruth gave him her full eyes. "You don't like Mr. Wilkerson, do you?” "I don't trust him,” he renlied. At this moment the superintendent entered the office and. seeing their two heads close together over the desk, he scowled. “I enme to see what we are going to do about that new tunnel,” he said roughly. “I don’t like to start in anything I can't finish.” Ruth swung around to say "I am going to New York city to see Mr. George Everett, a friend of Mr Dorr's, and I will come back with the slo,ooo.’* “Everett, Everett”—repeated Wilkerson. “who is George Everett?” Despite John's frowns. Ruth volubly explained. When she had finished

;SL . W a. “John, are we broke?” Wilkerson nodded and said: “I’ll put the men to work tomorrow. Dorr. Bet ter have your plans ready’.” He stamp ed out. “You had better go this afternoon,” John told Ruth. “There Is no time to lose.” “All right,” she said, “I’ll be ready th an hour.” John smiled. “AU right; I’ll take you over iu tl>e motor truck or shall we ride to Silent Valley?” “I’ve never been to New York." she said timidly, and with that inconsequential logic which maidens have, she added. “Let’s ride. 11l take Patsy and you can ride Black Joe." Dorr did not understand at all that in leaving her home for the great strange city she wished her last hours

to be filled with sunshine and a familiar zest of scurrying over dry California on half broken horseflesh. “All right, we'll ride,” he said. "While you are getting ready I’ll write a fetter to George Everett.” Ruth laid one slender hand on John’s shoulder. “You’re always doing things for me. John," she snid simply. "Some day I'll do something for you.” She slipped i away without a backward glance. Dorr watched her trip down the hill toward her own little bungalow, an<f it seemed to him as if he held one end of a golden thread that she was spinning through sunshine. It was anchored in his heart. That thread would ■be 3,(XX) miles long before she saw 1 good old Everett. He picked up his pen and wrote rapidly: “Master Key" Mlns, June — ' George Everett, 111 Broadway. New York I City: Dear George—When a young, slender, brown eyed, golden haired girl walks Into your office and says, “I'm Ruth Gallon,* and hands you the papers that she will have in her little hand bag. please see that she gets SIO,OOO. Ever yours, JOHN DORR He would have added more. His liner instinct told him that Ruth should be the first to put the whole scheme before the cool headed, rather cold hearted George Everett. lie addressed I the envelope and sealed it. Then he I went to the telephone and called up the station at Silent Valley. “Bill,” he said quietly after listening a moment to see if any one was on the line, “I want to send a telegram. Take it over the wire, please. I'll be down In a little while and pay you.” “Sure.” floated back a cheerful voice. “I wish my credit was as good as yours, ten miles away, but it seems as if I have to be always present when I nsk for it. Go ahead, John!” “This is it. Bill,” said John: George Everett, 111 Broadway, New York City: Miss Ruth Gallon leaves tonight to see you about "Master Key" stock. Meet her and wire me on her arrival. Take good care of her or I’ll take care of you. JOHN DORR. The operator repeated the message and Involuntarily adopted a little of John’s savage intonation on the hist four words. It woke him up to the fact that he was allowing his feelings to become public. He begun to see why it was that men looked at him strangely at times, when it was a question of Ruth s interests. He must restrain himself. The operator did not hang up inane diately, but said hesitatingly: “Say. John, there's a wire here; just came in from ‘The Master Key’ mine. It does not seem to jibe with yours. Wilkerson sent it.”

“I’ll play fair,” said John to himself, and he called back over the wire, “Billy, that’s yours and Wilkerson's business, not mine.” If he had listened to the tenor of the message directed to Jean Darnell, in New York, he would have learned what Wilkerson was plot ting. For years Wilkerson had built up for himself a golden image in Jean Darnell. No one realized better than himself that she was a creature of appe tite. a lover of silk and velvet. A woman whose eyes widened at sight of a Persian cat. Feminine in every degree. womanly in none. But he himself, dominated absolutely, utterly and completely by his desires, had fallen under her spell, and he was going to win her, no matter how. It is a strange thing that when a dishonest man finally yields to an honest passion nothing will satisfy him but the ut most observance of the ritual of society. Harry Wilkerson’s vision was of walking up the aisle of a great church to meet his bride at the altar. Yet lie had always thought of her in terms of gold: that was a contrast—the pallid, satiny, blue eyed woman, voluptuous, soft—and his image of her built of yellow gold, dragged out of the bowels of "The Master Key" mine. This image was now before his eyes: Instead of the warm, sun blessed California hills, with their faint scent of sage aud cactus, he saw a richly furnished room and breathed the odor of attar of roses. Let us not follow him in his dreams. But looking over his shoulder an hour later we read: “Master Key" Mine. June — Jean Darnell, Astor House, New Y'ork City: Find George Everett at 111 Broadway and meet Ruth Gallon in Chicago on Sante Fe express leaving here this evening. Introduce Drake ns Hverett after you have seen Everett and keep the girl to yourself until I can arrange matters. HARRY. “I can’t send this through any office near here.” be thought, “so I guess I’ll ride down to Valle Vista and hand it to the conductor. He can send it from Los Angeles.” Three days later Ruth Gallon settled herself in the seat of a Pullman that was soon to leave Chicago for New York. She was excited, in crossing town from one depot to another through the streets roaring with traffic she had heard sounds that had never met her ears before—the sounds of the world’s business which, oddly enough, seemed to be mostly hauled over cobblestones. The faint echo of that noise still rang in her ears. It appalled her to think that she must dwell with men who lived in such an atmosphere: also she felt very lonely. She thought of the mine, of Tom Kane in the door of his cook shanty, of the great ore bucket swinging across the gulch toward the mill, of John, bending over his blue prints and papers; of the grave on the hill where her father lay. still within the precincts of “The Master Key." It had been so impressed upon her that her mission was of vital importance to the mjne. Hint these tendet emotions flowed into the same channel with her rjitliy keen business instinct. Übe pulled the key. warm from het losom. out of Its hiding place and took «1 at it. x

CHAPTER VIII. Jean Darnell's Ruse. JIIIS must be Miss Gallon,", 1 said a pleasant voice. gMBBS Ruth looked up to see a woman of liiu'id beauty and dressed in somewhat extravagant style • looking down nt her out of great, taw-1 ny, velvet eyes. Western bred. Ruth responded amiably to this salutation, though she had' not the faintest idea who the woman was. “Yes, I am Miss Gallon." “I tun Mrs. Darnell.” said the woman. "May I sit down? 1 am an old friend of your friend, John Dorr's, lie wired me that 1 would find you on this train." The lie was so plausible that Ruth merely blushed, thinking that it was one more token of John Dorr's carefulness of her comfort and safety. To her inexperienced eyes this woman represented the tremendous city to which she was going. Her dress, her manner, her Jewels, the evasive perfume that she affected were all strange and impressive to her. She moved over a little to allow Mrs. Daniell to sit down. "John never spoke of you,” said Ruth simply. "1 did not have the faintest notion that 1 was to meet any of his friends. Do you live in New York?" "Yes, I live in New York. 1 happened to be in Chicago, and through Mr. Everett I heard from John.” “Oil, you know Mr. Everett!" cried Ruth. "He is the man I am going to see in New York." and she went on to tell, aS best she could, the gist of her mission. It was typical of the woman to whom she was talking that she did not interrupt this naive narrative. She sat in silken silence, occasionally allowing her great eyes to rest on Ruth's fair face witli an assumption of affection. As a matter of fact, she was profoundly interested. Life had taught Jean Darnell a great many things, and among them had been the great lesson of self preservation—the saving for herself of money, of comfort, of health and of good looks. Now it was a question of money, prime among them all. and her rather keen wits saw precisely the chances which Wilkerson was taking. She recalled his oft repeated statements that there was money in “The Master Key” and his latest letters imploring her to help him get control of the stock. When Ruth ended up with a gentle “And so I told John I'd come and see what I could do," Uie elder woman smiled gently. Times were not so good with her as they had been, and if Harry Wilkerson could put this deal through and make money for them all it would simplify many a problem which she dully pondered at night. "Mr. Everett will meet us at the train,” she said briefly, “and then you can tell him all this. Meanwhile, suppose we talk about something else.” “But I can't think of anything else.” said Ruth. “Oh, you will.” said Mrs. Darnell. ‘You can combine the pleasure of seeing New York with your- little business. Mr. Everett will quickly settle that part of it. apd I shall take great pleasure in showing you about Manhattan. I presume you are fond of opera ?” “I have never been to the opera,” Ruth responded. "I should love to go, but when I do go I must go ail alone," 'he went on impulsively. “I think opera must be like church—one wants to go all by oneself." Mrs. Darnell turned very slowly and for the first time in many years revealed a secret thought: "Doyon know that my only pleasant memories, my dear, are of myself?” The bitterness of that confession, with all its implication, wholly escaped Ruth's sensitive but inexperienced mind. Yet there was something in the tone that warmed her heart to this effulgent creature. At least, she was not going into the great city all alone, nor confront Mr. Everett by herself. Mrs. Darnell made her feel that she was competently protected. When they arrived the next morning nt the Grand Central station in New York city Mrs. Darnell quietly introduced her to a slim, rather handsome young man. who seemed ill nt ease until be had drawn Ruth's companion aside for a moment for a chat while the porter collected their luggage. “I don't just like this game," he said. "In the first place. Everett is a big man in the city, and this Miss Gallon doesn't look to me like a girl you could fool long. Anyway, I can't understand what you are trying to do. Jean. You must know what sort of a fellow Harry Wilkerson is by this time. Why play his hand for him?” "I don't notice you holding any trumps in your hand," she returned gently, but with a faint gleam in her eyes which made him draw back. “This is my game, aud I expect you to play your part. You come on -now and be George Everett. The ghi is as ignorant as a pigeon. Remember what I told you.” “About that stock?” lie said sullenly. "Yes. the stock. You understand that she came to New York simply to raise money for this mine. You are supposed to handle the business for her. If you don't learn al! that is to be learned about ‘The Master Key’ mine in the next two days you are more than the fool I take you for." She drew lifen back to where Ruth stood amid the suit cases and hand bags and said. “Miss Gallon. Mr. Everett lias been telling me that lie. too. has heard from Jqhn Dorr about your coming." Ruth scanned Him politely. But the interest died in her eyes when she saw what sort-of a man he was. He might be a friend of John’s: lie might lie tile man to rescue "The Master Key” from bankruptcy, but be did not interest her. Drake, trying to play the part of the

busy broker and, being thoroughly aud leiniMirn mentally an actor, felt the chill of this hick of interest and would certainly have fallen down on hl* port had he not been prompted by Mrs. Darnell. He was glad to hasten away to find the elusive tuxi. The real George Everett got out of ids limousine on the corner of \ underhilt avenue and hurried through the revolving doors: brisk, debonair, alert, decidi-d. with that happy style which denies foppery and avoids surveillance. It. seemed strange that he should have a photograph in his hand at which he looked intently until lie got In the eoncourse. There he stopped and, with the picture still In his hand, commenced watching the faces of the people thronging through the gates under the vast dome. As he waited he frowned slightly. “Why had John Doit sent him during business hours on a wild goose chase?” He thought of this rrtlffiilately and then smiled to himself. “A wild goose!" he muttered. It brought up darkling sunset vistas, lakes smooth as quicksilver under the evening sky, nnd slim, gray, beautiful birds homing downward. The frown left his forehead. “After all it will be good to see somebody from out of doors,” he said to himself. Half an hour later he discovered that he bad irretrievably missed the arrival of the Chicago express and with it Ruth Gallon. He went back into his car and drove to his office. Once there he called his head clerk, an ancient nnd fragile man. as crisp and bloodless as the money that passes on Wall street, and told him to see at what hotel Miss Ruth Gallon was stopping. Then he wired John Dorr: 111 Broadway, New York. John Dorr. “Master Key" Mine. Silent Valley, Cal.: Could not find Miss Gallon at train. Am seeking for her, as it is important that the business be settled immediately. W ire any possible address. GEORGE EVERETT. Far out on Broadway, above the eighties, an operator was ticking off another message addressed to Harry Wilkerson. It read: 25 A West Eighty-fourth St., New York. Harry Wilkerson, “Master Key" Mine, via Valle Vista, Cal.: Everything all right. George met Ruth. She is now with me and waiting further particulars. Have seen Everett under guise of prospective purchaser of stock. The girl is charming. JEAN DARNELL. Some houses, like some people, should uever be illumined with sunshine, and Mrs. Darnell’s residence, overlooking the Hudson, was of this type. Its dull, red stone front, marked by windows that seemed blind to all that went by. was not distinctive in that neighborhood. A thousand doors within a mile would have suggested to the passerby nothing more nor less than the great oak portals within which she lived. To Ruth Gallon, of course, the house seemed tremendously formal and stately. Within she found an atmosphere so absolutely strange and alien to all she had ever known that she shrank within herself and had nothing to say until she had been conducted to her own room on the third fffror and a discreet maid was busy unpacking her things. Ruth felt that society had already laid its restrictions ou her. She recognized the maid as the “gown and hat” policeman. This silent, but exceedingly obtrusive personage having retired at last, Ruth studied her surroundings. When she had completed her survey she thought to herself that there were two things wanting. One was a silk haired Persian cat and the other a flaming colored scarf across the bed that completed the altogether of an apartment severely luxurious. Then she tried to analyze the odor, delicate yet insistent, which she was ever afterward to associate with Jean Darnell and her experience in New York. At last she traced it to some pallid flowers in the great green and dark red vase, whose unwholesome beauty was that of plants whose roots have never been in good, sound soil. They looked to her much like lilies, whose pads had Boated on some dark and opalescent pool, viscid with odors of the night She was still staring at these aud sniffing their scent through widened nostrils when Mrs. Darnell knocked on the door and entered slowly. Site had changed her street gown for a negligee, which instantly caught the girl's appreciative eye. “You look beautiful,” she said quickly. Jean Darnell turned her tawny eyes on her and smiled faintly. “I am not usually up until noon," she responded, “and—l am getting ?ld, my dear.” She threw out her jeweled hands with a sparkling gesture of half comic resignation. Ruth laughed. “John Dorr says everybody gets old in New York. Don't you like him?” Mrs. Darnell looked into the clear eyes of the girl and almost failed to foilow her baser instinct. Hut at that loose throat she saw the heavy gold of “The Master Key." As if it had supernatural powers, the sight of that key lacked the door of her heart. "Os course I like John.” she said easily. “We must get everything fixed up now. George will be here—George Everest. of course. I mean—tonight, mid you and he can talk the business over." “You know, we simply must have the money,” Ruth returned earnestly. “The mine isn’t paying now, hut John knows where we can <bid the mother lode agaiu; then we'll nil be rich." “Ah!" said Jean Darnell. "You're selling stock. I presume?” "I own it ail.” Ruth returned proud ly.' “It’s my mine. My father left it to me when he died.” She did not see 1 the sullen hatred that slowly flamed until Jean Darnell’s eyes fairly blazed. In her own room she stood a moment breathless. Then she tore off her fleeejnegligee in an intensity of silent rage and despair, seen only by the unexcited eyes of the god whom she had defied, i It is wickedness, not virtue, which ' is theatrical, and at this moment Jean > I

Darnell Hung herself Into her eyl slon with all the abandon o I’ t£ diau. only her voice was almost in dlble: "Tom Gallon. Tom GuHou. though you are, I'll have reienWhen her fury had s|*ut lllike nil physically Ind nt womeffi < could not yield long to emotion ■ prepared her campaign. . First she called up George Dm made certain that he would be nt h home for dinner that she called up two old ne.pi n ' . who were always glad to Oil > l >} chairs nt her well set table tied, she again sought Ruth " 1 suaded her from going down itmuedl ately to Everett’s office. “You must be very tired, my <!«»'■ Mi>. Darnell purred. “And. any''. ■ you know, in New York young Indie do not go nbo.it unescorted to me business offices, and I cannot go win you until tomorrow or next day. “That will be too late." cried Ruth. Mrs. Darnell opened her eyes " ns if in surprise. “Mr. Everett is ' ing to dinner tonight." she said sooth ingly. “You can talk business to you. heart’s content right here. “That will be much better, suit Ruth. When her hostess wns gone six stood by the window trying to tlnnK more calmly of all that had happ< n. i since she had left "The Master v..' mine, but one thought was “What was John Dorr doing?' > k recalled that there was three hoars difference in time. It was now 2 o cio< in New York, and it was only 11 in Silent Valley. Tom Kane would be just making his final preparations for dinner. and she could almost smell the odor of his coffee. These homely de tails occupied her mind tenderly for ar hour; then she caught up aud dresser, herself for the street again. She had barely finished when the maid came in with tea, followed Dy Mrs. Darnell. "My child, what in the world arc you going to : do?” asked Jean. "Look, we’ll have tea together.” "I was going out for a walk." Ruth responded. “You know I have never

BBS nwiwiK- 1 “What was John Dorr doing?” been in New York, and it seems a shame to waste this tine afternoon. Anyway, I want some fresh air." Mrs. Darnell looked at her thoughtfully and smiled presently in away that made Ruth flush, it seemed to convict her of discourtesy to her hostess. "You had best have tea!" and the girl obediently removed her hat and jacket and sat down. It seemed to her that the rest of the afternoon passed in flashes of such entertainment as she had never known. It must be remembered that Ruth, living in the mine nearly all her life since leaving school, had not had the advantages or the society of trained, alert, smart, clever women. Mrs. Darnell was very clever and she used her every art to keep Ruth’s attention. She succeeded. That night at dinner George Drake, posing as George Everett, suddenly flushed darkly and turned to the girl at his left. “Miss Gallon," be said in a whisiier, flashing his dark eyes toward Ills hostess to see if she were watching, “1 really hope that the trust you put in me you won’t find misplaced. I’ll do everything I can to help you, even if it is funny that 1 didn't know that John, Dorr has red hair," Ruth looked at. him very soberly. “I don’t just understand a great many things,” she said. “It all seems so strange. Mr. Everett, and. yon know I am worried. I ought to go to the i Ritz Carlton and see if there are telegrams for me. for that's where John would wire me. I'm afraid Mrs. Dar- ’ nell thinks I'm awfully impolite lie cause I want to go and make sure for myself that John has not wired." “I’ll go myself.” said the false Everett, looking at his plate, “m night. In fact. I’ll go right now* He caught Mrs. Darnell’s eve and snid apologetically: “I'm afraid, my dear hostess. I’ll have to leave you. 1 have just remembered my solemn promise to be nt the club nt 9 o’clock, and lieshies, I’ve promised Miss Gallon to go to the Ritz and get her mail nnd telegrams." He turned to Ruth, nnd she liotieed a very grave look in his eves WMrii she wns to understnnd ia'icr’ He bom gallantly over her hand and lightly k-ssed her fingers. “Yon may trust mo.’’ he said. (Continued next week)

ON THE LINE OF DEATH WHAT THE FIGHTERS IN EUROPE are suffering. Correspondent at the Front Tell. o1 Conditions That Prevail In the Trenches—Desolation Marku Path of War. *t the end of the village the roa<! climbed again from the ravine and emerged on open fields. A wall «»t timber dark and impenetrable as the woods round an old chateau, rose at the farther end of these fields—the road cutting through it like a tunnel—and on the brow of the ravine, commtndlng the road and the little plain, was a line of trenches. Here evidently they had fought. XVe walked on down the road Below the northern horizon, where they were fighting now along the line of the Afsne, rolled the sullen thunder of artillery, as it had been rolling since daylight, writes Arthur Ruhl in Collier’s Weekly. And the autumn wind, cold with the week of equinoctial rain, puffing out of thickets and across revines, brought, every now and then, the horrible odor of death. Ahead, to the right, one caught the glint of French infantry’s red trousers. A man was lying there, face downward, on the field. Then across the open space appeared another—and another— they were scattered all over that field, bright as the red popffies which were growing in the stubble and as still. They were in various positions. One lay on his back, with one knee raised like a man day-dreaming and looking up at the sky. Another was stretched stiff with both hands clenched over his chest. One lay in the ditch close beside us, his head jammed into the muddy bank just as he had dived there in falling; another gripped a cup in one hand and a spoon in the other, as if, perhaps, he might have tried to feed himself in the long hours after the battle rolled on and left them there. All these were French, hut just at the edge of the thick timber was a heap—one could scarcely say of Germans, so utterly did the gray sodden faces and sodden gray uniforms merge into anonymity. A squad of French soldiers appeared at a turn in the road. Two officers rode beside them, and they were just moving off across the fields carrying shovels instead of rifles. Looking after them, beyond the belt of timber, one could see other parties like theirs on the distant slopes to the left, and here and there smoke. Two more French soldiers appeared pushing a wheelbarrow filled with castoff arms. With the boyish good nature which never seems to desert these ’ little men in red and blue, they stopped and offered us a few clips of German cartiklges. They were burying their own men, they said, burning the Germans. The dead had been lying here for nearly a fortnight now while the battle line rolled northward, clear across France. . . . Through the coquettish little towns along the Marne, through the champagne country and the country just west of it, where we now were—everywhere were deserted, perhaps demolished, villages; the silent countryside with dead horses, bits of broken shell, inashed bicycles or artillery wagons along the road; and the tainted autumn wind. An Oriental Meal. There was nothing in the meal that looked or even tasted like an American dish The meat, folded up into small squares, was cooked in oriental ways, unknown to American cookery, while the little rice concoctions, rolled up in grapevine leaves, were as delicious as spinach, and the tiny summer squash, filled with an appetizing stuffing, made a pleasing dish. Pastry, cheese and sweets were also different from the customary American delicacies, and, lastly, the great Turkisn pipe, with its long smoke cooling tubs filled with Persian tobacco, replaced the American cigar. The bill of fare, written in Arabic, backward, as is the custom with that language, looked like a stenographer's notebook. —National Magazine. Hare Lip Hereditary. V illiam F. Blades of the Eugenics Record office, Cold Spring Harbor, L. I-. is making a special study oT hare lip and cleft palate, in which he is carrying on breeding experiments with several harelip strains of Boston terriers. He finds that both hare lip and cleft palate are highly hereditary in both man and animal, but he has been unable to determine in what way they are inherited. Mr. Hindes finda great difficulty in getting reliable statistics, owing to the fact that man.” persons do their best to conceal slight cases of hare lip and cleft palate, especially if these have been partially or completely remedied by operation. Now Live Fifteen Years Longer. The average length of life in the nited States is 15 years greater now t an it was 35 years ago, according to a statement made by Dr. Victor C. aughn of the University of Michigan, president of the American Medical association, in an address before the City c’ub at St. Louis. Crime he characterized as a disease, ue to heredity and environment, and >e way to eradicate crime was to treat it as a disease and to disinfect its breeding places. Doctor Vaughn said the death rate rr, m tuberculosis had decreased 54 | Per cent since 1880.