Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 101, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 28 April 1914 — Page 2

A. Man In the Open

Illustrations by Ellsworth Young

SYNOPSIS.

The story opens with Jesse Smith relating the story of his birth, early life In Labrador and of the death of hls father. I esse becomes a sailor. Hls mother marries the master of the ship and both are lost In the wreck of the vessel. Jesse becomes a cowboy In Texas. He marries Polly, a singer of questionable morals, who later is reported to have committed suicide. Jesse becomes a rancher and moves ttf British Columbia. Kate Trevor takes up the narrative. Unhappily married, she contemplates suicide, but changes her mind after meeting Jesse. Jesse ressues Kate from her drink-maddened husband who attempts to kill her. Trevor loses his life In the Rapids. Kate rejects »ffers of grand opera managers to return to the stage and marries Jesse. Their married Use starts out happily. Kate succumbs to the pleadings of a composer to return to the stage and runs away with him. She rescues Widow O’Flynn from her burning house, is badly burned her•elf and returns home, where Jesse receives her with open arms. Jesse calls on neighbors and clans to capture cattle thieves. Kate is r-scued from the hands of the bandits. Jesse la captured by the robbers, but by a elever ruse makes prisoners of the robbers. They are turned Over to a United States marshal, who has arrived with extradition papers. Jesse takes charge of the outlaw chief’s son, Billy O’Flynn, having promised the chief to keep him out of his father’s profession. He takes Billy to Vancouver and the lad is shanghaied. A son is born to Kate and Jesse and is named David. Jesse receives a letter from his first wife, Polly, In which she tells him she deceived him toto thinking she had killed herself. For the honor of Kate and their son, father and mother sparate. Kate and David go to England to live. Four years later Billy D’Flynn arrives and tells Kate how Jesse has been ruined and ostracised through the vindictiveness of Polly. Kate arrives tn British Columbia, lays plans to help old friends and defeat the plots of Polly. Provisions and help arrive in time to save Jesse's life. He hears of Kate’s arrival and of her plans. Brooke, a former bandit and intimate of Polly’s, calls on Kate to Interest her in a scheme to betray Polly to his own financial advantage. Bhe refuses. Brooke’s despicable plans are defeated.

CHAPTER Vl.—Continued. For the next hour I was busy rendering the last services, In haste, for the lamp had a 4 most peculiar smell. F took It away and lighted candles, but It y was not the lamp. Spreading the Union Jack upon the bed, I bolted from that room. For a time I sat-in the dining-hall but could not stay there. Even in the barroom I still had to fight off something intangible, a sense of being watched, a presentiment of evil coming swiftly nearer. Closing the door which led into the house, I opened that which gave upon the yard, then placed a flickering candle on the counter, and my chair in front of it facing the darkness. In the presence of the dead which makes their resting-places serene with quiet beauty, instinct with tenderness toward all living hearts. That presence had entered the good log house, a home of human warmth, of kindly comfort, made holy, consecrate, where people would hush their voices, constrained to reverence. And in the gracious monotone of the rain, compound of voices joined in requiem, I felt a soothing melancholy beauty, knowing well how peace not of this world had come into the homestead. But outside that, beyond, in the dread forest, a threat, a menace filled the outer darkness. Fear clutched at my heart, a presentiment told me of evil, of Instant danger. Then, as though the horror in the night moved other hearts as well as mine, the Chinese cook came groping his way through the dining-hall and humbly scratched at the door. I let him in and he crept to a stool in the near corner. I whispered to him: “Are you frightened, Sam?” “Too plenty much,” he quavered, flitened bad.” He lighted his pipe and seemed, tike me, to be eased by human company. Once only he moved, and in

A Revolver Crashed on the Doorstep.

the queerest way came with his long yellow fingers to touch me, then timid, but reassured, crept back to his stool In the corner. Soon Nurse Panton Joined us, her hair in corkscrews, looking very plain, peevish because she had not , been called at midnight. “What's the matter?" she asked crossly, and for answer I pulled down the blinds. She shivered as she passed the open door to take a chair behind it She begged me to close the door, but the night was warm, and besides I dared not Nurse and Chinaman each had a glass of port, and so did L feeling much bet-

by Roger Pocock

An hour passed, the Chinaman -nodding like those ridiculous mandarin figures with loose heads, the nurse pallid against the gloom, staring until she got on my nerves, I always disliked that woman with her precise routine and large flat feet. Far off I heard the thud of a gunshot, then three shots all together, and afterward a fifth. The evil in the night was coming nearer, and 1 said to myself, "If I were really frightened I should close that door. I’m half a coward."

The hero himself had strung his Victoria Cross upon a riband which I wore about my neck. Could I wear the cross and set an example of cowardice to these poor creatures who crouched in corners of the room? to show fear is a privilege of the underbred. But I did long for Jesse. Through the murmurs of the nearer rain, I felt a throb in the ground, then heard a sound grow,, of a horse galloping. The swift soft rhythm, now loud, now very faint, then very near echoed against the barns, thundered across the bridge/ splashed through the flooded yard, and ceased abruptly. Billy had come home from the Falls, he was stabling his roan, he was crossing the yard in haste, his spurs clanked at the door-step and, dreading his news, a sudden panic seized me. I fled behind the bar.

He entered, astream with rain, shading his eyes against the candle-light; then as I moved he called out, as though I were at a distance, begging me for brandy. His face was haggard, his hand as he drank was covered with dried blood, he slammed the glass on the counter so that it broke. “You heard the shots?" he said. “At Spite House?” I whispered. He nodded. “You were there?” I asked.

"Half a mile beyond. When I got there it was all dark. Looked in through the end window, but the rain got down my neck, so I went round. The front door was standing open. I listened a while. No need to. get shot myself. Thought the place was derelict Then-1 heard groans. "Struck a bunch of matches then, found the hall lamp, and got it alight Wished I’d got a gun, but there wasn’t nothing handy except the poker, so J took that and the light—just followed the groans. He was lying on the barroom floor.” “Brooke?"

“Yes. Shot through the throat, blood spurting down the side of his neck, making a big pool on the oilcloth. You know the thing you make with a stick and a scarf to twist up? A tourniquet, yes. Well, it choked the swine, so I quit. He whispered something about my thumb hurting the wound, so I told him my father’s neck hurt worse.

"Up to that I thought he was just acting, playing pathetic to touch my feelings. Once he muttered your name, and then he was dead.” “Brooke dead!”

“Yes, he’d been shooting Polly, too. I traced her blood tracks all the way to the front door. Hello, what’s that? I thought I heard—” I listened and there was ondy the sound of the rain. "I suppose it’s all right,” said Billy, "we’d better close that door, though.” But before he could reach the door, Nurse Panton called him away to her corner, where she spoke in a whisper so that I should not hear, sending him, perhaps, for her cloak. Meanwhile I came from behind the counter to my former seat before the open doorway, where I sat staring into the darkness, unable to feel any more, but just benumbed. Across my weariness flickered the mournful soliloquy of a poor barn-door sowl —"Yesterday an egg, tomorrow a feather duster! What's the good of anytin’, why, nothin’.”

Then I, too, heard a sound in the night, and because Billy and the nurse were muttering, I stood up with the candle-light behind me, trying to see in the darkness. Billy said afterward he had moved quickly, to shut the door, but I waved him back just as the shot rang out.

The explosion blinded, deafened, seemed even to scorch me, while the mirror on the wall came crashing down. Stunned, dazzled, horrified, I felt a dull rage at this attempted murder.

A second revolver-shot stirred my hair, and I’m afraid then that I lost my temper. I am not a fish-fag that I should stoop to fighting a creature such as Polly, but I would have died rather than let her see one trace of fear.

Billy rushed past the firing to reach the door and close it, but I ordered him to desist, then grasped the candle and held it out to show a better light. "Lower your lights!” I shouted into dark, "you fired too high!” A revolver crashed on the door-step, and low down within three feet of the ground, I saw a dreadful face convulsed with rage, changing to fear. The woman was sinking to her knees, she buried her face in grimy, bloodsmeared hands, and rocked to and fro in awful abandonment of grief. The danger was over now, the men-

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

ace of evil in the night had vanished. l‘ felt an immense relief, with hands wet, mouth parched, knees shaking, and great need of tears. I knew the strain had been beyond endurance, but now it was gone, although a velvet darkness closing round me, black night swinging round me, sickness—l must not faint, when I had to fight, to keep command, to set an example worthy of Jesse’s wife. And there I was sitting in my chair, with drops of sweat forming and pouring on my forehead. Billy, groping on the floor at my feet, had found and lighted the candle, and was holding the flame in the palms of his hands till it steadied and blazed up clear. “Buck up, missus,” he was saying. “Cheer-oh. Don’t let ’em know you swoomed. Grab on to the cross, and make it proud of you. That’s right. Laugh, mum! Laugh! Wish’d I’d half yer grit." I had come to myself and only Billy knew, who was loyal. As the candle blazed up I saw the Chinaman gibbering like some toothless mask of yellow india-rubber, but that nurse still kept up her silly screaming, until I ordered her to shut her mouth, which she did in sheer surprise. There lay Polly prone across the doorway on her face, racked with convulsive sobs, until feeling, I suppose,

Once More With Jesse In Cathedral Grove.

the lashing rain on her back, she rose on hands and knees like some forlorn wild animal crawling to shelter, while behind her stretched a trail of wet and blood. I stared uhtii in shame she sat up, still for all the world like an animal lost to human feeling, and to woman’s dignity, until as she looked at me a wan shamed smile seemed to apologise. She sat back then against the log wall, limp, relaxed.»with weakness

“Nurse," I called, still with my gaze on Polly, “this woman is wounded. You are a nurse. You claimed to be a nurse."

Rut Miss Panton Indulged in hysterics, so I turned to Billy. “Run into the house, get the hip bath, warm water, .blankets, bandages.” , "Aye, aye, mum,” he touched his forelock, and swinging the Chinaman to his feet: “Come along, Sam,” he grunted, and bustled him off on duty. Polly looked up, trusting me with her tawny bloodshot eyes. Her voice was a dreary hoarseness, demanding liquor. But with an open wound, to quicken the heart’s action might be fatal, and Polly knew well it was no use pleading. Instead of that she pointed at the nurse, and said, “Send that away.” 1 t urned upon Nurse Panton who sat forsaken and ostentatious In her corner. “Go,” I said, “and make beef tea.”

Sniff. I took her by the shoulders, and marched her out of the room, while Polly grinned approval. I came back and asked where she was wounded. She pointed to the left hip, but I dared not remove any clothing which might have caught and sealed the flow of blood. A sole diet of alcohol and months of neglect had made her condition such that I shrank from touching her

"So you’re Kate,* she lay against the bottom log of the wall, bead back, eyes nearly shut, looking along her nose at me, "Carroty Kate." Her own tawny hair, draggled, and hung in snakes, was streaked with dirty gray. “Ye took Jesse," she said in weary scorn, “so I ruined him. Then this Brooke, he fell In love with yer, so I murdered him. Take everything, give nothin’; that’s you. Carrots, give nothin’. That’s you, Carrots, give nothin’ away, not even a drink. And I gave everything. “So you’re good, and I’m bad; you’re high-toned society, and I’m a poor sporting lady. Oh, I saw ye lift yer skirt away when ye passed—calling yerself a Christian, When Just one word of. Christian kindness would have saved the likes* of me.

"Ye needn’t look over my head as if I wasn’t there. I’m no fairy, I ain't—no dream. I’m fadts, and ye’d better face ’em. 'Sisters of Sorrow’ they

calls us, who gave everything, who gave ourselves. "And you good women pride- yerselves In virtue, which ain’t been tempted. Your virtue never b?en outdoors in the rain, gettin’ wet. Your virtue never been starved and froze, or fooled and betrayed. Your colors ain’t run, ’cause they’ve never been to the wash. You don’t know good from evil, and you set thar judgin’ me. "Tears running down yer face, eh? You think you struck it rough when you came up agin me. Poor Carrots playin’ Christian martyr. I you good if you know’d it. I’m gll the schoolin’ you got in real life. I waked ye from dreams to livin’. And you an’ me is women, sisters in pain. I wish’d I’d auburn hair like your’n, Kate, and a baby David to favor me with hair an’ eyes. And if I’d had a home! But I didn’t get a fair show ever, and every time I done good, I got it in the neca. Well, what’s the odds? "It wasn’t you brung me down, Kate. Don’t cry like that, dear. It don’t matter. Nothing matters. It was this Brooke which done for me, not you or Jesse. Brooke’s only a thing I took in like a lost dog ’cause he was ‘hungry. He said he’d manage my business, and he shorely did —invested all I’d got in a governess, and a bonfire at t Mathson’s, and a stampede of mules. Then he fooled a widow down to Ashcroft to start him running a tourist joint, and I was to be turned out. And he fell in love with you. “I guess that’s all, excep’ I got to tell you one thing. It was nursing the sick men kep’ me straight all them years, kep’ me from drink. You see 1 was meant for a nures, trained for a nurse until—until—well, never you mind. Brooke stopped the nursing, and I drank. I’m only a nurse gone wrong.

“Yes, your eyes is wonderin’ why they don’t come back with them bandages, and the bath. Don’t worry about that, ’cause I’ll be dead by daybreak. Jesse loved yer. Brooke loved yer, and somehow, well, I’m kinder ranging that way myself. And if I go, you’ll get back Jess, eh?” Rallying what courage I had left, I knelt down and kissed my sister, my poor sister. For a moment I let her stroke my carroty hair, which she liked. Then I ran to hurry my people to bring the beef tea, the hot water, the bandages. I found that wretched nurse detaining Billy and the Chinaman, with some pretense that I must not be disturbed. I was telling her to get out of my sight, to go to her bed, when a revolver-shot rang through the echoing house. Polly had Crawled to the door-step, found her revolver. Bhe who gave everything in life, had given me back to Jesse, and lay dead, her forehead shattered in. with the revolver-shot. For some seconds Billy and I hung back, watching from the doorwaywhile a slow coil of smoke unfolded In the wap light of the dawn. The rain had ceased, and the east was all aglow with golden radiance. Billy knelt and touched the poorbroken forehead, then looking up at me, "This time,” he said, “it’s real.” EPILOGUE. ■ Once more with Jesse in Cathedral Grove! The breath of evening stirred Its tangled ' coral, the long needles clustered. in globes were swaying as . censors sway, with heavy Incense. Beyond the purple night swept up over glowing cliffs to where the upper forest like an edge of flame burned against deeps of sky. "Come to the hilltop: blackbird choristers Peal their clear anthem to the kneelp Ing gorse.” Jesse lay dreaming while I sang ,to him. Crisp silvered hair, and the deeply graven lines of his dear face, gave him at rest a sweet sad dignity; but presently he*would look up, his big mouth humorous, his eyes alight with fun, a man of commanding power matured in wisdom, in sympathy, and valor to lead hls fellows.

Through the east window of the grove, I could see a little procession of my closest friends pass on their Sunday stroll. First came Pete, ill at ease in his Sabbath suit of blacks, and with him, arm in arm, was Mrs. Pete in silk, full-skirted, prickly, and so very grim. Then Billy passed slowly

“TELEPHONE” FOR THE DEAF

Letters and Numbers to Be Flashed on Buttons by an Electric Keyboard, Is the idea.

An optical telegraph intended to fill the place of the telephone for talking with a deaf person has recently been Invented by a deaf and dumb married couple of Berlin, Germany. It consists essentially of a keyboard, as in a typewriter, through whose keys single electric currents pass. In each circuit is included an Incandescent lamp with a flat • surface, - bearing a letter of the alphabet or a Roman numeral. Pressing any key causes the corresponding lamp to glow. Thus words and sentences are spelled out and numbers are formed. The keyboard can be operated as fast as that of an ordinary typewriter, so that with practice communication' becomes very smooth and rapid. Each station, of course, must contain both a sender and a receiver and these may be In different rooms or in houses a long distance apart. The instrument can be conveniently used for conversation between a deaf

by, hls mother stumping beside him, bound to keep the pace. They had the new rabbit with them, collared and chained like a bulldog, and were followed by David’s nurse, dear Patsy, Billy’s wife —plucking my young anemones —the wretch. Out on the perilous edge of Apex Rock 1 I could see young Mr. Nisted, Father Jared’s nephew, a pupil In Jesse’s sphool of colonial training, with rod and line he was seriously fishing—for birds! >

“Don’t you reckon,” said Jesse, relighting a stale cigar, “that’s it’s time we stopped our book?” “Oh, but—”

"It’s tempting Providence, young woman; it’s encouraging the police. From the moment you started the thing, we’ve had more’n our share of adventures. Put up a notice, ‘Book Closed. No more adventurers need apply. Try Surly Brown for a change. “But what shall we do?” “Rubllsh the blamed thing, and serves It right. Thow it to the critics.” “But it’s all secrets!” “Change the names and places. We’ll be ‘Mr. and Mrs. Smith,' wellmeaning private persons located somewhere west I’m going to have blue eyes.”

“But mine are blue.” "I made first grab. Yon can have green, and a large mouth, and your Christian name is Carrots.-- Helio, here’s Baby David.” My son was coming through the scented dusk, and in his arms he. carried a large dog, a china dog with gilt muzzle, split from the nose to tail, but carefully mended. “Sonny,” said Jesse, "don’t you drop Maria, or she’ll have puppies.” “I did, and she didn’t; so there! Something dropped out, though. See, mummie.”

David had thrown Marie intb my lap, and danced about in the gloaming with some strange trophy, the tail of a large animal. -“Sort of reminds me,” said Jesse, "of‘being a little boy. That’s the Inspector’s. tale. This is a long way, too, from the Labrador.”

The wind made quite a disturbance, telling the pines to hush, while both my son and Jesse wanted to play with the wolf tail, and would not be quiet, though already the stars and the fireflies had lighted Cathedral Grove, and the great river like an organ crooned the first deep notes of nature’s evensong. An awed expectant silence came to us. "Lighten our darkness,” said the grave old trees, “we beseech Thee.” "By Thy great mercy," pleaded the little flowers. "Defend us from all perils,” the small birds twittered. "And dangers of the night,” the aspens quavered. “For the love of Thy only Son,” cried the South Wind. “Our Saviour Jesus Christ,” a woman’s voice responded. “Amen,” the cliffs were breathing. “Amen,” the high clouds echoed. "Amen,” said the orgap river, came: And from the reverent woodlands “Amen. Amen.” * [THE END.]

Earth Eating.

Earth eating is a habit often observed in India, and is very widely distributed. It often manifests itself as a symptom of disease or perverted appetite, but among many healthy people it is a regular habit. In addition to India, the Soudan, China and the Malay archipelago are mentioned as places where the custom prevails, but these by no means exhaust the list. It is said that in Siberia and Lapland, earth consisting of the fossilized siliceous shells of diatoms is mixed with meal to make as kind of flour. It is also said that the Ainus of Japan used to eat a paste made of a mixture of diatomaceous earth. The Indians of Guatemala eat a yellowish edible earth containing sulphur, not so much as a food, but as a prophylactic against disease. There are people in Bengal who regard the fine earth of which anthills are built as a . delicacy, and the explanation has been suggested that the flavor is due to a digestive fluid added to the earth by the ants to make it more easily worked.

person and a normal person who is ignorant of the finger language. The silence with which the device is operated is a yery important point in its favor. This feature might make it especially useful where quiet or secrecy in transmitting information is desirable, as in sending war news or secret instructions in business houses.

It Was Still Hard.

Bridget, a green maid, was told by her mistress to cook a soft-boiled egg for her mistress* breakfast Five minutes later she rang for the maid, and, asking if the egg was done yet received an answer In the negative. Thinking .Bridget bad not boiled the egg immediately, she waited a few minutes longer, and again asked If the egg was ready. ' . "No, ma’am,” replied Bridget. I "Why not?” asked her mistress. "To be sure, ma’am, an* the egg Is still bard, for didn’t I just feel of It."

Not Necessarily.

A girl Is not necessarily cut for a prime donna just because she is hard to manage '

At the Gate of Nain

By REV. GEORGE E. GUILLE

Bible Tocher, Moody institute.

TEXT—He went into a city called NalnLuke 7:11.

his own lips could pronounce upon the labor of his hands, “very good?” Is not this what it still is to the unregenerate heart, that refuses to recognize the ruin wrought by sin? Yes, the heart that has ho ties elsewhere; that has not “tasted the powers of the world to come; ” nor seen the gloriousrealities of things eternal, finds it fair and pleasant still. But alas! this pleasant world has become a valley of the shadow of death, for behold! at the very gate of Nain, proclaiming its real condition, a dead man- is carried out. Death ts the way out of the world still, and death is the awful shadow over it* “Death reigned from Adam to Moses,” and reigns today, the world, with all its boasted wisdom, having found no remedy for it On every portal, death with relentless hand, has carved his telltale crest, and upon all creation he has placed his stamp. “The world ■ passeth away.” z This is the scene into which Christ 1 has come, as here he comes to Nain—Ji came with life and salvation and open-Jl ing heaven to the lost of the earth. What sorrows, too, are in fair Nain! Behold this widow weeping for her only son, and much people in the city, following and weeping with her. For sin has brought not only. death, Taut a multitude of sorrows, into the world. However fair-it may be, however beautiful the names which it may be called, however much it may furnish the natural heart with pleasure—sorrow remains the<great fact of human life. The great sea of life is Salty with human tears, and the sighing of the wind is the echo of the threnody of broken hearts. "The whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain together until now.” But the Man of Sorrows draws nigh and Nain must answer to its name. With him at its gate, all ie changed, and we see the divine remedy for all the ills brought in by sin. 1. "When Jesus ■ saw her, he was moved with compassion.” Yes it was compassion that brought him down to save, compassion for n\y lost estate, compassion for the helpless misery to which sin reduced me. "Moved with compassion at my tears for sin, he has come to my help.” v 2. "And he said unto her, Don’t cry, don’t cry!” Who* is this stranger breaking in upon her grief with his tender sympathy? Can he quench . those tears? Has he a balm for that broken heart? Yes, he has, and he freely gives it; and in doing so gives us a picture of all hie finished work. The Christ of Calvary will make good his every word. 3. “He touched' the bier!” “Touch it he must if hls word is to have power over it” He must die, if he would have to say to death, “Where is thy sting?’’

I‘The sting of death is sin” and he must be "made sin for us” to take away that sting.' .He must "taste death for every man,” who is to arise from it at his word. He muet’go into it in order -to triumph over it, and “forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh and blgod, he likewise himself, also took part of the same, that through death . . . he might them who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage.” “Christ, being raised from the dead, dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over him.” But he has dominion over it, and thus he touches the bier. In Iffrael it meant defilement to come in contact with death. But Jeeus must touch it, yet remain undefiled.

4. And having touched it he can say, and his word stand fast, "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise." And these words, which in a thousand tongues, he is repeating in the' earrf of the multitudes “dead in trespasses and sins.” Know, Q man without Christ, that this young man at Nain’s gate is your picture. Dweller in Naln—in a world still "fair" to the eye, but upon which sin has brought an awful curse—you are dead. 5. “And he that was dead sat up and began to speak.” "Hath he said and shall he hot do it, hath he spoken and,shall he not make it good?" O soul, hast thou heard his voice,l Hast thou "sat up" out of thine awful death in treepasses and sins, "a new creation” In Christ Jesus? Hast thou begun to speak with a new tongue In the language they speak la heaven? All hail, hearer of Jesus* voice! "They that hear shall tive!"

The words, looked at closely, will be found to epitomize all the work of Christ as Savior., For what Is the city of Nain? We find the answer in the meaning of its name: “fair, pleasant,” probably so called because of its striking situation. And is not this what the world was as God made it, so that