Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 61, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 March 1913 — Page 2

SYNOPSIS. Robert Cameron, capitalist, consults Philip Clyde, newspaper publisher, regarding anonymous threatening letters he has received. The first promises a sample of the writer’s power on a certain day. On that t day the head Is mysteriously cut from a portrait of Cameron while the latter is In the room. Clyde has a theory that the portrait was mutilated while the room was unoccupied and the head later removed by means of a string, unnoticed by Cameron. Evelyn Grayson, Cameron’s niece, with whom Clyde is In love, finds the head of Cameron's portrait nailed to a tree, where It was had been used as a target. Clyde pledges Evelyn to secrecy. Clyde learns that a Chinese boy employed by Phtlatus Murphy, an artist living nearby, had borrowed a rifle from Camerons’ lodgekeepr. Clyde makes an excuse to call on Murphy and is repulsed. He pretends to be investigating alleged Infractions of the game laws and speaks of finding the bowl of an opium pipe under the tree where Cameron’s portrait was found. The Chinese boy is found dead next morning. 'While visiting Cameron In his dressing room a Nell Gwynne mirror is mysteriously shattered. Cameron becomes seriously 111 as a result of the shock. The third letter appears mysteriously on Cameron’s sick bed. It makes direct threats against the life of Cameron. Clyde tells Cameron the envelope was empty. He tells Evelyn everything and plans to take Cameron on a yacht trip. The yacht picks up a fisherman found drifting helplessly In a boat. He gives the name of Johnson. Cameron disappears from yacht while Clyde’s back Is turned. A fruitless search Is made for a motor boat seen by the captain Just before Cameron disappeared. Johnson Is allowed to go after being closely questioned. Evelyn takes the letters to an expert In Chinese literature, who pronounces them of Chinese origin. Clyde seeks assistance from a Chinese fellow college student, ■who recommends him to Yip Sing, most prominent Chinaman In New York. The latter promises to seek Information of Cameron among his countrymen. Among Cameron’s rletters Is found one from on# Addison, who speaks of seeing Cameron In Pekin. Cameron had frequently declared to Clyde that he had never been In China. Clyde calls on Dr. Addison. He learns that Addison and Cameron were at one time intimate friends, but had a falling out over Cameron’s denial of haying been seen In Pekin by Addison. Clyde goes to meet Yup Sing, sees Johnson, attempts to follow him, falls into a basement, sprains his ankle and becomes unconscious. Clyde Is found by Miss Clement a mlssolnary among the Chinese. He Is sick several days as a result of Inhaling charcoal fumes. Evelyn tells Clyde of a peculiarly acting anesthetic which renders a person temporarily unconscious.* Murphy Is discovered to have mysterious relations with the Chinese. Miss Clement promises to get Information about Cameron.

CHAPTER XVl.—Contlnuajd. It was now my turn to be thoughtful. Evelyn believed In the woman’s ability to aid. ; She had said as much to me. And I myself possessed a certain degree of faith In feminine intuition. Aside from that, though, Miss Clement 'had demonstrated that she wielded a certain power in her bailiwick—was not my watch, at that moment, in my pocket?—and her whole personality proclaimed inherent capacity for accomplishment. "Very well, Miss Clement,” I agreed. "I will wait three days. , It is now Saturday, November 14. If by this time Tuesday afternoon we are not, at least, on the track of something tangible, I shall be on my way to Mulberry street." Sunday was with me a day of impatience. I fretted now at confinement, for my ankle was quite strong again, and I was perfectly well in other respects, too. But my physician had set Monday for my first day out, and he refused to concede even a twenty-four-hour change of plan. But I chafed more even at the inactivity to which I had agreed concerning Cameron than at the confinement. All at onoe, I had become imbued with a necessity for prompt and strenuous measures. Some awful thing, I knew not what, seemed ominously imminent, and remorse tore at me tormentlngly. Early Monday, I telephoned Miss Clement for tidings of her progress, hut she could only implore me to wait She had nothing to report, but she was encouraged. With my hands thus tied diversion was my only refuge, and an accumulation of office work into which 1 plunged served, in part at least, this purpose.

Evelyn and Mrs. Lancaster had come in from Greenwich and opened the Cameron town house, a great white granite Renaissance affair, on upper Fifth avenue, facing the park; and because the girl had made me promise, I lunched there; but T went with less grace than ever before, uncertain as I was of my self-control. Evelyn's faith In Miss Clement, however, was contagious. Bhe spoke of little else, and when I came away it was with strengthened hope of speedy results.

It is my habit to glance over the earlier editions of all the evening par pers before leaving my office,' and later, either on the train to Greenwich or, when in town, at my club, to read more carefully the later Issues of the News and Star. Oh this particular day, however, a succession of matters of more importance prevented my looking at so much as a headline, until, seated at dinner, in the club restaurant, I saw on a window ledge beside me one of the more sensational of the afternoon dallies, and appropriated It in lieu of better companionship. It was one of those journals which, In catering to the tastes of the proletariat, conceive it wiie to minimise their references to Wall street, save pqiy when e marked slump or a panic

The SABLE LORCHA

By HORACE HAZELTINE

points the moral of the unscrupulous capitalist and his heinous crimes. When, therefore, long, bold-face type attracted my eye with the announcement, “Fall in Crystal Consolidated,” I started to read the subjoined article, confident enough that some director or directors had been spitted for barbecue. And before I had read five lines I came upon the name of Robert Cameron. If I was to believe this introductory paragraph, my friend was tc Crystal Consolidated. what John D. Rockefeller was to Standard Oil, yet in the months of our intimacy he had made no reference to this connection; and, though I was thoroughly familiar with the “great glass trust," as it was called, and with the name of its multimillionaire master, strangely enough I had never connected the Cameron I knew w{th this Cameron, the Captain of Industry. “I am," he had said, in all modesty, “largely interested in a certain line of industrial enterprises.” That was all. I suppose I should have known; and yet, “no prophet is without honor, save in his own country.” The newspaper article I now read, however, left no room for doubt on the subject; and, incidentally in a single sentence, revealed the secret of how Cameron had succeeded in escaping that general recognition which is usually the penalty of greatness. “He has never sat for a photograph.” But, while this part of the article interested, that which followed startled and perplexed me:

“Crystal Consolidated fell to 103 today," it went on, “because of a persistent rumor that Robert Cameron is seriously ill, in a New England sanitarium. The greatest secrecy has been maintained as to his malady and his whereabouts by those who are in a position to know. It has been ascertained, however, that after spending a quiet summer at his country place, Cragholt, on Long Island sound, near Greenwich, he started on October 21, on his fast steam yacht Sibylla for a cruise along the New England coast. Ten days later the Sibylla returned, but Mr. Cameron was not on board. "It is known that he has been in ill health for months, and there fire those who now declare that he has sought the Becluslon of' an institution for the treatment of nervous diseases, near Boston, his condition being critical.

"Inquiry, today, at his Fifth avenue home in this city, and at his Connecticut country seat, was fruitless. Mr. Cameron was at neither place, and the servants expressed ignorance concerning hip present address. "At the offices of the Crystal Consolidated Manufacturing company and at those of the missing financier’s brokers, Hatch & Hastings, evasion Was the keynote of the answers to all questions. "Whether Mr. Cameron is as ill as is reported, or whether he is quite robust, the effect of the gossip on Crystal Consolidated was disastrous. A slump of fifteen points in two hours, this afternoon, wiped out many weakly margined accounts, and spread ruin among a number of speculators who fondly imagined this law-defying trust, of which Cameron is the supporting Atlas, as firmly intrenched as is the government Itself. "IfJnlesß something definite is forthcoming regarding Mr. CameroVs condition before the market opens tomorrow, a panic in Crystal Consolidated is predicted. It closed today at 102% bid, 103 asked; the lowest figures recorded this year." It startled me, because it showed that at least a part of the secret we were guarding was a secret no*longer; and it perplexed me because I could not fancy through what channel these somewhat distorted facts had filtered into publicity. I had no doubt that the ball, having been set rolling in this fashion, would gain both in volume and momentum unless some energetic measures were promptly taken to check it. And yet, what, under the circumstances, could we do? Subterfuge, I knew, would be useless, and the truth must prove an acoelerant. In haste and with diminished appetite I rushed through my dinner, and a moment later was speeding up the avenue as fast as a taxicab could carry me, with the Cameron mansion my destination and a consultation with Evelyn Grayson my object. It must not be imagined that in this matter I expected any weighty assistance from a young woman of such limited experience; but she was practically alone in the great house and I could well imagine how already reporters must be vying one with another to wring from her admissions concerning her uncle. To my infinite relief I found that she had returned the word, "Not at home," to all such callers. Inquiries from other sources had been met lh similar fashion. Officers of the company had called in person or had telegraphed, and Hatch 4k Hastings had been almost aggravatingly insistent. "But, Evelyn," I said, "this is all

such a surprise to me. I had no notion your uncle was at all active in any corporation. I fancied him a director, probably, in a score or more ot companies, but that he was the so-called ‘Glass King,’ I never for a moment suspected. Under the circumstances, he must have a private secretary somewhere, who might have been of inestimable aid to us.” “lie has a private secretary; it seems,” she replied, "though even I never knew it until I read it in the News this evening. I am sure he never came to Cragholt. His name is Simms —Howard /Simms—and he was interviewed at the Company’s office. Didn’t you see it?”

I confessed that I had missed every evening paper but one. “It was he, I think,” she went on, “who, becoming alarm,ed at Uncle Robert’s long silence, mentioned it to some one, who in turn spread the damaging reports.” “Then he is a very incompetent private secretary,” I commented, “if not, indeed, a dangerous one. I shall make a point of seeing Mr. Simms as early as possible tomorrow. Tonight I am going to call on Tony Hatch —I have a nodding acquaintance with him—and assure him that when I last saw Robert Cameron less than a month ago he was in perfect health, and that I am satisfied he is not in any sanitarium or suffering from any mental or physical disorder. If he approves of the idea I. shall giye out a statement to the newspapers, implying that your uncle has gone on a little journey of which his family are entirely cognizant, and* that his return may be expected almost any day. I think that ought to turn the tide in Wall street tomorrow. Meanwhile, my dear Evelyn, continue to be ‘not at home.’ ’’ But neither at his home nor at any of his clubs could I find Mr. Hatch, though I searched for him diligently until long after midnight. Evidently he was Intent on evading the sleuth hounds of the press, and had successfully taken to cover. And then, on my way back down the avenue, to the Loyalton, that happened which made all subterfuge, all tact, all dissembling, unnecessary. For on the sidewalk, opposite the cathedral, I found the best of answers to all the questions raised by the rumor mongers—the animate refutation of every disturbing waif word.

CHAPTER XVII. Opposite the Cathedral. Fifth avenue at two o’clock In the morning Js fast asleep. There are localities in New York which are more widely awake at that hour than at any other time of day, but the highway of faahlom is not one of them; and in the neighborhood of Fiftieth street, its repose is as profound as at any poifat of its long, undeviatingly straight coursq. For over an hour I had waited in that sumptuous white marble club edifice of the plutocrats which ostentatiously punctuates the avenue at Sixtieth street, and, tired of sitting, nervous and disappointed, I had chosen to walk down to my rooms, believing that the exercise in the clear, frosty air would serve to counteract, in a measure at least, all three of these vexations.

To the limit of sight there stretched away a double, converging chain of twin lights marking the curb line for endless blocks, and illuminating the nearer sidewalk and roadway, if not to effulgence, certainly with a clearly defining radiance. Now and then I met a quick-stepping pedestrian, usually in evening dress with cigar alight; and at more or less brief intervals limousined motors-and taxicabs with gleaming lamps sped by me at top Bpeed. Onoe a hansom passed, the hoof-beats of the hard : driven horse resounding Jarringly against the night silence. At Fifty-fourth street I cut diagonally across the avenue to the west side, and, continuing my way southward, absorbed in the problems confronting me, had been for-a little quite lost to encompassing objects. Then, suddenly, fearing lest in my abstraction I should pass the street on which my rooms were located, I aroused myself to get an idea of my location. Across the way the grim facade of the Cathedral rising dark and sullen as a fortress made all clear. But, on my own side of the avenue there had been no such distinguishing mark. The brown stone dwellings, monotonously ugly, with their high stoops and bslustcaded areas, were no more enlightening than the stone flagging of the sidewalk or the asphalt of the roadway. Scores of blocks presented practically the same aspect as this. But as with critical gaze I measured one after another of these combinations I was all at onoe arrested by sight of a tall; bent flgufe clutching the high iron railings which guarded the avenue frontage of the house on the corner—the only really, individual house lit the row. m My first rough concept was that I had come upon incapability resulting

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from intemperance. At closer view, however, I tempered my judgment. The possibility of illness or injury intervened, and I paused Samaritan-like to offer succor. The wayfarer was evidently a man of middle age, if I might judge from the contour of his back, which was towards me, and I saw at once that he was struggling to keep upon his feet by sheer muscular handhold of the railing’s iron uprights, for his knees were bent threateningly and his arms were extended and tense. Until I was close beside him he gave no sign of realizing my presence. Indeed I think it was not until I spoke that he half turned his head towafds me, and, for the first time, I got sight of his features.

Whether or not I uttered a word, or made a sound, or stood for a long moment Bilent, I cannot say. I know only that I doubted my eyes and questioned my reason; for, if these were not playing me false, the profile thus revealed to me was the profile of Robert Cameron. To try to set down in detail just what followed must be an idle effort, with fancy providing the bulk of the ingredients. Surprised, amazed, astounded even, are all too feeble terms to apply to my emotional condition. Dazedly, I was floundering in what seemed a veritable sea of unreality. When the commonplaces began to readjust I was standing at the curb, my arm wound supportingly about Cameron's waist and his arm pressing heavy on my shoulder. Drawing in to us was an empty hansom cab, provided by Providence, and hailed, I suppose, by me, though I swear I have no recollection of it.

The cabman helped me to lift him in, and at this the pity of his plight smote me, tempering the joy of having found him, and quickening within me a spirit of angry retaliation against his enemies For the man now at my side was far different from that man who had sat with me on the after deck of the Sibylla, only four weeks ago. He was, indeed, It seemed to me little more than the husk of the Cameron I had known. In facial conformation the change was not so marked,Jhough his expression was pathetically at variance with anything I had ever before seen him wear. The lines of his face were drawn, as with pain, and his eyes were dull to vacancy. He lolled, sleazily, in a crumpled heap in his corner, like a spineless manikin; and though I plied him eagerly with a flood of questions, he might have been a deaf mute for all the answers he accorded me. Once I thought he shook his head in negation, but I was later forced to conclude that this was Involuntary, being caused by ths_ roll of the cab as one of its wheels encountered a depression in the roadway. Yet in spite of his sorriness of presence and demeanor—in spite too of the tormenting mystery of his return, which was scarcely less baffling than the mystery of his departure—it was at least a relief to know that he was alive and out of the power of those that were bent upon his harm. Good nursing, coupled with skilful medical attention, had just worked wonders for me, and I was confident that it would do the same for him; and then we should have facts and not theories to aid us in our quest for the culprits, and, eventually, in the administration of justioe to the guilty.

I bad given the cabman the number of the Cameron house and admonished him to make all possible speed; so, with the long lash of the whip snapping sharply at brief Intervals and the Jaded horse, thus urged, bounding at a clumsy, lumbering gallop, we rolled noisily northward. Having given over the effort to obtain from my fellow passenger even a gestured answer to my most pertinent Inquiries, I turned my mind to what lay before us. The Cameron establishment would doubtless be fast locked in slumber as well as otherwise, but I made small question of my ability to rouse some of the servants. My hope, however, was not to awaken Evelyn. It could mean only a night’s rest lost for her, for she could gain nothing by seeing her uncle at this hour, considering his condition. I was still busy planning when a mighty hand on the lines brought our horße to his haunches, and ourselves nearly out through the suddenly parted apron; and the Cameron residence loomed massive and dark on pur right As I stepped to the sidewalk the driver descended, too, but I motioned him back. "Never mind, thadk you," I said. ‘Til get some one from inside to help carry him." And in a moment my thumb was on the push-button and faintly there came back to me through heavy double doors the far-off echo of the bell, Jarring against the silence of the great house. * The promptness with which chains fell and bolts were drawn surprised me. And yet, I suppose, it was merely an evidence of the perfect management of an establishment wherein every contingency is provided against. A footman, as irreproachably liveried and groomed as though the time were midday? instead of after two o'clock in i

the morning, greeted me with becoming imperturbaliltty. I recognized him as one of the men from Cragholt, and called him by name. v “Stephen,” I said* with an effort to disguise the excitement with which my every pulse was throbbing, "your master is outside in a cab. He is very weak and will need assistance. Get another man to aid me, and then awaken Mr. Checkabeedy and Louis. And make haste. No, I can’t come in; I’ll wait outside." He turned away in. obedience to my directions, but I checked him. “And, Stephen,” I charged, “no word to any one else, as you value your position; especially no word to Miss Grayson.” I marvelled at the man’s preserved unemotlon. His “Very good, sir," was uttered with all the stolidity which marks a response to the commonplace; and yet I knew that he was fully conscious of the eventfulness of this late and unlooked-for home-coming. And the footman who joined me a few minutes later was not less well-trained. Together, he and I lifted Cameron from the hansom and carried him up the broad flight of granite steps, between the massive guarding lions, and placed him in a great chair in the hall, before the wide, sculptured flreplaoe. And though this would probably prove the most exciting topic of the servants’ hall for weeks to come, he gave not the smallest sign that Tie was taking part in other than the usual. Checkabeedy, the butler, however, though no less perfect a servitor, was more privileged; and Louis, volatile aw the most characteristic of his countrymen, collapsed utterly, without effort, apparently, at any restraint whatever. The former’s interest was evidenced in a* commiseratingly lugubrious visage and a few blunt questions, but the Frenchman wept and sobbed in wordless sympathy. And I had it not in my heart to blame either, for a more pitiful picture than the one presented by the restored Cameron as he sat there in his own spacious hall, gazing with lack-luster eyes at the dead and dying embers on the hearth before him, I hope never to see. The butler, ruddy and rotund, and looking for all the world like a wellfed monk, for he wore a bathrobe of somber hue and his crown was barer than any Bhaven tonsure, stared for a moment in sad silence. Then, turning to me, he asked:

“But what has happened to Mr. Cameron, sir?” “I wish I could tell you, Checkabeedy,” was my unguarded reply. “I wish he could telKns himself.” “But he is so wasted, sir! And his clothes. I never saw Mr. Cameron in such clothes." r ~ : It was quite true. They were ot what is called, I believe, a pepper-and-sajt mixture, coarse of texture and illcut, yet not much worn. “He does not recognize us,’’ Checksbeedy went on, “and still he is conscious. May I ask you, sir, where you brought him from?” I chose to ignore the question, in sudden realization of the neoessity of caution. , “And he has been missing a month, they say, sir. Is that true, Mr. Clyde?” “Missing!” I repeated. "Who says he has been missing?”

“The servants all say so, sir.” “Then the servants must get rid of the idea, at once,” I said, sharply. “Mr. Cameron has merely been out of town for a while. He went away for his health, and now he has returned, benefited. Do you understand, Checkabeedy? He has returned, benefited. And now, you and Louis will get him to his room, while I telephone for Dr. Massey." Checkabeedy bowed, assenting, and Louis, still whimpering, wiped his eyes. It was nearly four o’clock when the physician left his patient and Joined me in the library downstairs. His face was very grave. "I have examined Mr. Cameron thoroughly,” he Baid, “and I can assure you that he is not seriously injured.” The phrase opened up a new line of thought to me.

"Seriously injured?” I repeated. "I don’t understand, Doctor. Do you mean that —” "I mean,” he Interrupted, "that the blow on the back of the head caused no fracture.” * “Then he was struck?” "Undoubtedly. Probably with a sandbag. Hence his present dased condition. Had the blow been delivered with more force, it might have resulted in complete loss of memory. You have heard, of course, of instances where men have forgotten even their own names?” I nodded. “Mr. Cameron will regain his memory. It’s merely a temporary matter. I have telephoned for a man nurse for him —one who understands such cases. He will be here in twenty minutes. At present Mr. Cameron is sleeping. [ I am in hopes that when he awakens mind will be comparatively clear.” (TO B 8 COJmNVBDJ

Securing Titles to Heavenly Homes

By REV. HOWARD POPE.

SapaioKadcot of Men, Moody Bible Institute. Qucega

TEXT—“In my Father’s house are many mansions; I go to prepare a place for you.”—John 14:1.

gone Into an inquiry room, or remained for an after-meeting, it is perfectly proper to ask if he is a Christian. You can say, “I hope you are a Christian,” or something which will draw out an expression of opinion. If the person is an entire stranger, and one whom yqu hate met outside of a religious meeting, you can enter into conversation on some general topic, and rapidly up to the subject of salvation. It is surprising how soon an opportunity will occur for the main question, when one is prayerfully seeking to be led by the Spirit. Riding through the country with a pastor, the writer came to a house where the town poor were kept. An old man came hobbling up from the barn and the following conversation occurred: "Where are you going, my friend, when you move away from here?" “I don’t know, I’m sure." "I should Buppose that you. wokld go to the place which* they are preparing for you.” r “What?" he said, with a look of surprise.

“I understand that they are building a fine home for you, and i should think you would wan move into it when you leave here.’ “What do you mean?" he asked with great eagerness. “Well,” said I, “the good Book says, ‘ln My Father’s house are many mansions; I go to prepare a place for you; an<j if I go, I will come again and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also;’ If I were you, I should plan, when I left this poorhouse, to move into my mansion.”

“Oh,” said he with a smile, “you mean heaven.” "Certainly,” I replied. - “Well,” said he, “I hope I shall go to heaven.” “Of course you do, but what reason have you for thinking that you will go to heaven?" i “I think good people are going that way.” “That is true, but they do not go to heaven unles they have a title to one of those mansions. Have you secured your title?” 1 “No,” said he sadly. “I haven’t." “Would you like to secure it?” “Yes, of course I would." “You can get it right here if you wish. lam authorized to issue those titles.”

“I certainly would like to get one if you can tell me 'how.” The Bible says, ‘All we like sheep have 'gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way.’ Does that apply to you, my friend?” “Yes, I have had my own way right along.” “The Bible also says, ‘Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him.’ Are you willing to repent of your sins and call upon God for mercy?*! “Yes, sir, I am.” “Are you willing to give up your own way, and henceforth walk in God’s way?" “*I am.’ “Jesus says, ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come into him and sup with him, and he with me.’ You hear his voice. Are you willing to open the door of your heart and invite him to come in and take possession of your life?”

“I am.” "Do you here and now aocept Jesua Christ as your personal Saviour?” “I do,” he said, solemnly. “Will you shake hands with me, ae a pledge of it?” “Yes, sir,” and he did so heartily. “Very well,” said L "Now let us tell the Lord Just what you have told me. s Take off'your hat.* He did so, and I removed mine, and we had |.ttw words of prayer. Then I gave him a. little covenant to sign and keep as a. minder of what he had promised the Lord, and of what the Lord had promised him. By this time the pastor had joined me, and I drove away. It wasa seed sown by the wayside, and all 1 could do was to follow it with prayer. From that day the old man managed to get down to church each Sunday, though it was .several miles away, and he was quite lape. > Soon he came before the church and asked admission on confession of faith, pasa ing a good examination.

In dealing with a pers on, tfe must first find out where he stands.* It is quite important to know whether he is interested or indifferent, whether he has doubts or difficulties which really trouble him, or whether he Is only justifying himself by hie own good works, or by the faults of others. If he has