Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 133, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 June 1912 — Page 2

BYNOPSIB.

Enid Maitland, a frank, free and unspoiled young Phalladelphla girl. Is taken to the Colorado mountains by her uncle, Robert Maitland. James Armstrong, Maitland’s protege, falls in love with her. His persistent wooing thrills the girl. "I «d>e hesitates, and Armstrong on business without a definite answe • Enid hears the story of a mining eng neer, Newbold, whose wife fell oft a cliff and was so seriously hurt that w compelled to shoot her to prevent her lag eaten by wolves while he went help. Klrkby, the old guide who tells the atory, gives Enid a package of letters which he says were found on the woman’s body. She reads the letteisana at Klrkby’s request keeps them, wnue bathing in mountain stream Enid is tacked hy a bear, which Is mysteriously ■hot A storm adds to the girlis te<™£ A sudden deluge transforms brook into raging torrent, which sweeps Enid into gorge, where she Is rescued bya® tain hermit after a thrilling „ V .I Campers In great confusion upon disco lag Enid's absence when the s breaks. Maitland and Old g that search of the girl. Enid discovers that her ankle Is sprained and that she Is un able to walk. Her mysterious rescuer carries her to his camp. Enidgoea sleep in the strange man’s bunk. Miner cooks breakfastfor Enid, after whicn they go on tour of inspection. , T b e mt mlt tells Enid of his unsuccessful attempt to find the Maitland campers. Heaamug that he Is also from Philadelphia. Ine hermit falls in love with Enid. The man comes to a realization of his lov . e • but naturally in that strange soUtude the relations of the girl and her rescuer be come unnatural and strained. The strang er tells of a wife he had who *8 dead, and says he has sworn to ever cheris her memory by living In solitude. He and Enid, however, confess their lov ® for each other. She learns that he Is .the man who killed his wife in the mountain. Enid discovers the writer of the letters to Newbold’s wife to have been James Armstrong. Newbold decides to start to the settlement for help. The man Is racked by the belief that he is unfaithful to his wife’s memory, and Enid is tempted to tell him of the letters in her possession. Armstrong, accompanied by Klrkby and Robert MaltlandL find a Jsete that Newbold had left In the deserted cabin, and know that the girl is In his keeping. Fate brings all the actors together. Newbold returns from bunting &pame and sees a man near the , u * i to James Armstrong, who has at last located the missing girl, and he enters the cabin. Armstrong pleads his love for Enid, but she reminds him of his atiection for Newbold’s wife. He grows insulting and Enid orders him from presence. Newbold returns opportunely.

CHAPTER XXII.—(Continued.)

Armstrong confronted Newbold therefore, lustful of battles; be yearned to leap upon him, his fingers itched to grasp him, then trembled slightly as be rubbed them nervously against hjs thumbs; his face protruded a little, his eyes narrowed. “My name is Armstrong,” he said, determined to precipitate the issue without further delay and flinging thewords at the other In a tone of hectoring defiance which, however strange to say, did not seem to effect Newbold in any perceptible degree. The name was an illumination to him, though not at all in the way the speaker had fancied; the recollection of it was the one fact concerning her that rankled in the solitary’s mind. He had often wanted to ask Enid Maitland what she had meant by that chance alTusion to AnfittfMlg WCTCtr she had made in the beginning of their acquaintance; but he had refrained. At first he had no right to question her; there could be no natural end to their affections; and latterly when their hearts had been disclosed to each other in the wild, tempestuous, passionate scenes of the last two or three days, he had had things of greater moment to engage his attention, subjects of more importance to discuss with her. He had for the time being forgotten Armstrong and he had not before known what jealousy was until he had entered that room. To have seen her with any man would have given him -aeate-paln, perhaps just .because.-ha had been so long withdrawn from human society, but to see her with this men w ho flashed instantly into his recollection upon the utterance of his name was an added exasperation. Newbold turned to the woman to whom Indeed he had addressed his question in the first place, and there was something in his movement which bespoke a galling almost contemptuous obliviQusneas to the presence of the other man which was indeed hard for him to bear. Hate begets "hate. He was quite conscious of Armstrong’s antagonism, which was entirely undisguised and. open and which was growing greater with every passing moment. The seore against Newbold was running up in the mind of his visitor. “Ah,” coolly said the owner of the cabin to the first of his two guests, *1 do remember you did mention that name the first day you spent here. Is he a—a friend of yours?” “Not now," answered Enid Maitland. She too was in a strange state of perturbation on account of the dilemma In which she found herself involved. She was determined not to betray the unconscious confidence of the dead. She hoped fervently that Newbold would not recognize Armstrong as the man of the locket, but If he did she was resolute that be should not also be recognized as the man of the letters, at least not by her act IWtfbold was Ignorant of the existence of those letters and she did not intend that be should be enlightened so far Os she could prevent It

But she was keen enough to see that the first recognition would be Inevitable; she even admitted the fact that Armstrong would probably precipitate it himself. Well, no human soul, not even their writer, knew that she bad destroyed them, she had determined to do so at the first convenient opportunity. Before that, however, she intended to show them not to Newbold but to Armstrong, to disclose his perfidy, to convict him of the falsehood he had told her and to justify herself even in his eyes for the action she had taken. Mingled with all these quick reflections was a deadly fear. She was quick to perceive the hatred Armstrong bore on the one hand because of the old love affair, the long cherished grudge breaking into sudden life; on the other she realized that her own failure to come to Armstrong’s hands and her love for Newbold, which she neither could nor had any desire to conceal, and the cumulation of these passlonatp antagonisms

would only make him the more desperate. Whether Newbold found out Armstrong’s connection frith his past love, there was sufficient provocation in the to evoke all the oppugnation and resentment of his nature. Enid felt as sfee might if the puncheons of the floor had been sticks of dynamite with active detonations in every heel that pressed them; as if the slightest movement on the part of any one would bring about an explosion. The tensity of the situation was bewildering to her. It had come upon her with such startling force; the unexpected arrival of Armstrong, of all the men on earth the one who ought not to be there, and then the equally startling arrival of Newbold, of whom perhaps the same might have been said. If Newbold had only gone on, if he had not come back, if she had been rescued by her uncle or old Kirkby—But “ifs” were idle, she had to ’ face the present situation to which she was utterly unequal. '*’■ She had entirely repudiated Armstrong. that was one sure point; she knew how guilty he had been toward Newbold's wife, that was another; she realized how he had deceived her, that was the third. These eliminated the man from her affections, but it is one thing to thrust a man out of your heart and another to thrust him out of your life; he was still there. And by no means the sport of blind fate Armstrong Intended to have something to gay as to the course of events,, to use his own powers to determine the issue. ; Of but one thing beside her. hatred for Armstrong was Enid Maitland absolnteiy certain; she would never dlsclose to the man she loved thg fact that, the, woman, the memory of whose supposed passion he cherished, had besii unfaithful to him in heart if

The Chalice of Courage.

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not in deed. Nothing could wrest that Becret from her. She had been Infected by Newbold’s quixotic Ideas, the contagion of his perversion of common sense had fastened itself upon her. She would not have been human either if she had not experienced a thrill of pride and joy at the possibility that in some way, of which she yet swore she would not be the Instrument blind or otherwise, the facts might be disclosed which would enable Newbold to claim her openly and honorably,without Hesitation before or remorse after, as his wife. This fascinating flash of expectant, hopeful feeling she thought unworthy of her and strove to fight it down, but with manifest impossibility. It has taken time to set these things down; to apeak or to write is a slow prooess, and the ratio between outward expressions and Inward is as great as that between light and sound. Questions and answers between these three followed as swiftly as thrust and parry between accomplished swordsmen, and

“Your Picture?” He Asked.

yet between each demand and reply they had time to entertain these swift thoughts—as the drowning compass life experiences in seconds! S ® “I may not be her friend,” said Armstrong steadily, “but she left me in these mountains a month ago with more than a half way promise to marry me, and I have sought her throughthe snows to claim the fulfillment” “You never told me that,” exclaimed Newbold sternly and again addressing the woman rather than the man. “There was nothing to tell,” she answered quickly. “I was a young girl, heart free; I liked this man, perhaps because he was so different from those to whom I had been accustomed, and when he pressed his suit upon me, I told him the truth. I did not love him, I did not know whether I might grow to care for him or not; if I did, I should marry him and if 1 did not no power on earth could make me. And now— l hate him!” She flung the words at him savagely. Armstrong was beside himself with fury at her words, and Newbold’s cool indifference to him personally was unendurable. In battle such as he waged he had the mistaken idea that anything was fair. He could not really tell whether it was love of woman or hate of man that was most dominant; he saw-at oncethe state of affairs between the two. He could hurt the man and the woman with one statement; what might be its ulterior effect he did not stop to consider, perhaps if he had he would not then have cared greatly. He realized anyway that since Newbold'e arrival his chance with Enid was gone; perhaps whether Newbold were aUve or dead it was gone forever; although Armstrong did not think that, he was not capable of thinking very far into the future in hla then condition, the present bulked too large for that.

By Cyrus Townsend Brady.

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“I did not think after that kiss in the road that you would go back on me thiß way, Enid,” he said quickly. ‘‘The kiss In the road,” cried Newbold staring again at the woman. “You coward,” repeated she, with one swift envenomed glance at the other man, and then she turned to her lover. She laid her hand upon his arm, she lifted her face up to him. “As God is my judge,” she cried, her voice rising with the tragic intensity of the moment and thrilling with indignant protest, “he took it from me like the thief and'the coward he was and he tells it now like the liar he Is. We were riding side by side, I was utterly unsuspicious, I thought him a gentleman, he caught me and kissed me before I knew It. I drove him from me. That’s all.” “I believe you,” said Newbold gently, and then for the first time, he addressed himself to Armstrong. “You came doubtless to rescue Miss Maitland, and in so far your purpose was admirable and you deserve thanks and respect, but no further. This Is my cabin, your words and your conduct render you unwelcome here: Miss Maitland is under my protection; if you will come outside I will be glad to talk with you further.” “Under your protection?” sneered Armstrong beside himself. "After a month with you alone I take it she needs no further protection.” Newbold did not leap upon the man for that mordant insult to the woman; his approach was slow, relentless, terrible. Eight or ten feet separated them. Armstrong met him half way, his impetuosity was greater, he sprang forward, turned about, faced the. full light from the narrow window. “Well,” he cried, “have you got any? thing to say or do about It?” - But Newbold had stopped, appalled. He stood staring as if petrified; recognition, recollection rushed over him. Now and at last he knew the man. The face that confronted him was the same face that had stared out at him from the locket he had taken from the bruised breast of his dead wife, which

Sank His Fingers Around the Other's Throat.

had been a mystery to him for all these years. "Well,*’ tauntingly asked Armstrong again, “what are you waiting for, are you afraid?” From Newbold’s belt depended a holster and a heavy revolver. As Armstrong made to attack him he flashed It out with astonishing quickness and presented it The newcomer/was unarmed—hla Winchester leaned against the wall by hla fur coat and he had no pistol. “If you move a step forward or backward,” said Newbold with deadly calm, “I will kill you without mercy.” “So you’d take advantage of a weaponless man, would your sneered Armstrong. /-:•• ... X “Oh, for God’s sake,” cried the woman “don’t kill him.” ’ . - % **r . >*-

“You both misjudge me,” was the answer. “I shall take no advantage of this man. I would disdain to do so if it were necessary, but before the last resort I must have speech with him, and this is the only way in which I can keep him quiet for a moment, if .as I suspect, his hate measures with mine.” “You have the advantage,” protested Armstrong. "Say your say and get it over with. I’ve waited all these years for a chance to kill you and my patience is exhausted.” Still keeping the other covered, Newbold stepped over to the table pulled out the drawer and drew from it the loeket. Enid ..remembered she. had hastily thrust it there when he had handed it to her, and there it had lain unnoted and forgotten. It was quite evident to her what was toward now. Newhold had recognized the other man, explanations were inevitable. With his left hand Newbold sought the catch of the locket and pressed the spring. In two steps he faced Armstrong with the open locket thrust toward him.” “Your picture?” he asked. “Mine!" “Do you know the locket.?” “I gave it to a woman named Louise Rosser five or six years ago.” “My wife.” "Yes, she was cra'zy in love with me, but—” With diabolic malice Armstrong left the sentence uncompleted. The inference l?e meant should be drawn from his reticence was obvious. “j took it from her dead body,” gritted out Newbold. “She was beside herself with love for me; an old affair, you know,” said Armstrong more explicitly, thinking to use a spear with a double barb to pierce the woman’s and the man’s heart alike. That he defamed the dead was of no moment then. “She wanted to leave you,” he ran on glibly. “She wanted me to take her back and—” “Untrue,” burst forth from Enid Maitland’s lips. “A slanderous, dastardly, cowardly untruth.”

But the man paid no attention to her in their excitement; perhaps they did not even hear her. Newbold throat hla platol violently forward. “Would you murder me as you murdered the woman r gibed Armstrong in bitter taunt Then Enid Maitland found it in her heart to urge Newbold to kill him where he stood, but she had no time if aha could have carried out her d» aign, for Newbold flung the weapon frorft him and the next moment the two men leaped upon each other, straining, struggling, daring, battling like savage beasts, each seeking to clasp hla lingers around the throat of the other and then twist and crush until life was gone. Saying-nothing, fighting in a grim alienee that was terrible, they reeled

crashing about the little room. Notwo men on earth could have been better matched, yet Newhold had a slight advantage in height and strength, aa he had also the advantage in simple life and splendid condition. Armstrong’s hate and fierce temper counterbalanced these at first, and with.. arms locked and legs twined, with, teeth clenched and eyes blinded and. pulses throbbing and hearts beating* they strove together The girl shrank back against tho wall and stared frightened. She feared, for her lover, she feared for herself. Strange primitive feelings throbbed in her veins. It was an old situation* when two male animals fought for supremacy and the ownership of a female, whose destiny waß entirely removed from her own hands. Armstrong had shown himself in biztrue colors at last She'Vould have nothing to hope from him if he was the victor; and she even wondered in. terror what might happen to her if the man she loved triumphed after the passions aroused in such a battle? She grew sick and giddy, her bosom rose and fell, her breath. qame fastr as she followed the panting, struggling, clinging grinding, figures about the room. At first there had been no advantage to either, but now after five minutes—or was it hours?—of fighting* the strength and superior condition of her lover began to tell. He was forcing the other backward. Slowly, inch, by inch, foot by foot, step by step* he mastered him. The two interwinIng figures were broadside to her now* she could see their faces inflamed by the lust of the battle, engorged, blood red with hate and fury, but there waa a look of exultation on one and the shadow of approaching disaster on the other. But the consciousness that he was being mastered ever so little only increased Armstrong's determination and he fought pack with the frenzy, the strength of a maddened gorilla, and again for a space the issue was in doubt. But not for long. The table, a heavy, cumbersome, four-legged affair, Bolid almost as a rock, stood in the way. Newbold at last backed Armstrong up against it and by superhuman effort bent him over it, held him with one arm and using the table as a support, wrenched his left hand free, and sunk his fingers around the other’s throat. It waa all up with Armstrong. It was, only a question of time now. "Now,” Newbold gutfered out hoarsely, “you slandered the dead woman I married, and you insulted tho living one 1 love. Take back what you said before you die." "I forgive him,” cried Enid Maitland. “Oh, Jor God's sake don’t kill him before my eyes." ' ,;t Armstrong was-past-apeech..-—That, inveteracy of his hatred could be seen even in his fast glazing eyes, the lndomitableness of hid purpose yet spoko in the negative shake of his head. Ho could die, but he would die in his hat* and in his purpose. Enid ran to the two, she grappled Newbold’s arm with both her own and strove with all her might to tear it away from the other’s throat Her lover paid no more attention to her than if a summer breeze had touched him. Armstrong grew black in tho face, his limbs relaxed, another second or two it would have been over with him. 0 Once more the door was thrown open; through it two snow-covered men entered. One swift glance told them all. One of them at least had expected it. On the one side Klrkby, on tho other Maitland, tore Newbold away .from his prey just in time to save Armstrong’s life. Indeed the latter was so far gone that he fell from tho table to the floor unconscious, choking, almost dying. It was Enid Maitland who received his head in her arms and helped bring him back to life while Hie panting Newbold stood staring dully at the woman he loved and tba man he hated on the floor at his feet, - •(TO BE CONTINUED.)

Latest German Fad.

Germany’s latest fad seems to be the "Undaaabad,” destroyed by a Berlin engineer, and claimed to be the first transportable covered swimming bath which affords a practical sube% tuts for the usual expensive building*. The swimming basin is inexpensive and may be easily transported to any convenient location. The water supply may be obtained from a lake, river, springs, or from the town water works, as the nae of the Ultra minimizes the amount of fresh water neoeasary and so reduces the number of germs that the water is purer than when freshly introduced. The bath la sheltered by a eanvas roof and furnished with a motor so that the air and water can be warmed and the temperature regulated. The motor’s star plus power can also be utilized in generating waves of three feet or less by simulating the ocean. ,