Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 192, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 August 1914 — Page 3

SYNOPSIS.

Joseph Hayward, .an ensign In the United States army, on Ms way to Fort Harmar. meets Simon Girty. a renegade whose name has been connected with all manner of atrocities, also headed for Fort Harmar, with a message from the British general, Hamilton. Hayward guides him to the fort. At General Harmar's headquarters Hayward meets Rene D’Auvray, who professes to recognise him, although he has no recollection of everhaving seen her before. Hayward volunteers to carry a message for Harmar to Sandusky, where Hamilton is stationed? The northwest Indian tribes are ready for war and are only held back by the refusal of the friendly Wyandots to join. The latter are demanding the return of Wa-pa-tee-tah. a religious teacher, whom they believe to be a prisoner. Hayward’s mission is to assure the Wyandots that the man is not held by the soldiers. Rene asks Hayward-to let her accompany him. She tells Mm that she is a quarter-blood Wyandot and a' missionary among the Indians. She has been in search of her father. She insists that she has. seen Hayward before, but in a form. Hayward .refuses her request and starts for the north accompanied by a scout named Brady and a private soldier. They come on the trail of a war party and to escape from the Indians take shelter in a hut on an island. Hayward finds & murdered man In the hut. It proves to be Raoul D’Auvray. a former French officer who is called by the Wyandots “white chief.” Rene appears and Hayward is puzzled by her insistence that they have met before. Rene recognizes the murdered man’as her father, who was known among the Indians as Wa-pa-tee-tah. Brady reports seeing a band of marauding Indians in the vicinity and with them. Simon Girty. Brady’s evidence convinces the girl that there is a British officer by the name of Hayward, who resembles the American. They find escape from .the island cut off. Reconnoitering around the cabin at night Hayward discovers a white man in a British uniform and leaves him , for dead after a desperate fight. The Indians capture the cabin after a hard struggle in which Hayward is wounded. Rene saves Hayward from death at the hands of the savages and conceals him in the cellar of the cabin. Hayward discovers a half breed negro in the cellar. They engage in a fierce fight which ends when the negro accidentally butts his .brains out against the low roof of the cellar.

CHAPTER XV—Continued. I saw him now clearly, and he must have got his first fair glimpse of me, for he stared at my face in startled surprise that, for the moment,""held him dumb. It was like looking at my own reflection in a eyes, the hair, the nose, the contour of the face, the massive figure, all the counterpart of my own. I would not have believed, except for the witness of my own eyes, that such similarity was possible. Even though fortified with sudden impression that this was the man for whom mademoiselle had mistaken me, the actual resemblance was so startling, as to leave me voiceless. We would have passed for each other anywhere, and yet-as I stared at him, eyes fairly, I perceived a difference, faint, elusive, yet noticeable enough—his skin showed marks of dissipation; there was a peculiar insolent sneer to hie mouth, and he must be older than I by five years. My mind seemed to grip all this in a flash, before his voice broke the silence. “Odds life, man! -and S what*s this!" he roared. “Some play acting, or «, dream? Never before did I know Iwas born a twin. Who are you?” The look on his face, as if he half suspected he saw a ghost, made me smile.

"My name is Hayward—Joseph Hayward.” _ He gasped for breath, his eyes fairly protruding, as he staggered to his feet. "What! Say that again!” 1 had full control of myself now, rather enjoying bis consternation. "I am Joseph Hayward,” I answered with grave deliberation. “An ensign in the United States army, and a na- . tlve of Maryland.” ’ “Well, Ibe hanged! Say; do you know that’s my name also? Is this some shabby joke?" There was a gleam of anger in his eyes, a threat. I leaned on my rifle, andrlooked him in the face. < "I was better prepared for this meeting than you,” I said, “for I happen to know Who you are. It’s an odd. thing, our resemblance, and the similarity of names, but f was told about you some time ago." ' “By whom?” “Mademoiselle D’Auvray.” “Who? I never met —oh, her!” with a quick laugh, “you mean the Wyandot missionary?” "I mean the daughter of Captain D’Auvray," i returned with some sternness. > "The man the Indians call ’Wa-pa-tee-tah.’ She mistook me for you." “And was not vety nice about ft I Imagine—the little vixen will scarce give me a Aptd." “Posslßly with reason.” “She told you so? She might be in . better business than advertising my •delinquencies among enemies. The girl has just enough white blood in her to make her act the tool.” "We may differ about that Anyhow. I advise you to hold your tongue. What I am interested in learning now is—who killed her father?” , jsxr br “‘- hi "" ,r "Her father! D’Auvray? Is he dead then?” gag'.;. He was not acting; the surprise was real; the expression of his eyes convinced me. “You had no connection with the murder?" "I! Good Lord, no! I know nothing, man-not even how I came to be here. I woke up Just now, lying In this t .comer with my face to the wall, every p B»a“e y d tojon ovet 1/et Xjj’l

the MAID of the FOREST

By RANDALL PARRISH

of you there at the entrance, and sang Out I don’t even feel certain who I am, let alone what I may have been up to." \ “But surely you recall something," I insisted. v “Well," puzzled, “not much. See here, I’m willing enough to tell you all I know, bet’s sit down; my head spins around like a top." * ———— CHAPTER XVI. ; ... 4 I Hold a. Prisoner. ' He ‘dropped back against the wa|l, but much of my old strength had . returned, and I remained standing, leaning on my rifle. The man continued to stare up at me'as if half doubting his own eyesight. “Well,” I said at last, growing tired of his silence. “You have my story—or, at least, a good partzof it —and now it would seem the proper time for me tp hear yours. Once we understand each other we will know Jitter how to proceed.” ' ' . V - ■ He pressed his hands against his head in an endeavor to think.“I was in there, unconscious and alone?” . ' ' "No, not alone; there was a. yellowfaced negro 'With you—a French mongrel, If I know the breed. He’s there yet—dead; and I want to know the story.” “Oh, ay! I(begin to get the straight of this at last,” and his face brightened. “Not that It is altogether clear, but you furnish a clue; perhaps if we put the" ends together wte may make a tale. A French negro, hey! ’T would likely be the Kaskaskia half-breed, a treacherous whiskered dog. But how ever did he come to be here? Ayiyi have it! The fellow must have trailed me from the council at Sandusky, suspecting I sought D’Auvray; there was hate between- them." “Then’t is likely he killed the man." “No doubt of it, if he really 'be killed. Listen tn what J know; In truth it is not much other than rumor; D’Auvray had the fellow lashed by Wyandot squaws for some dirty trick, and Plcaud—that’s his name—swore vengeance. Saint Denis! That was a year ago, and Plcaud has ever since been In his own country. ’T was the coming of war that brought him back. I thought I saw him at Sandusky as we held council there, but his presence was nothing to me." “He had po quarrel with you, then?” “No; I saw him whipped;’ he was like a snarling cur. Listen, and I’ll tell all I know. lam not proud of my job, understand, but out here in the wilderness, we work under a double set of- orders—one open, and above board, the other secret ’T is poor work for a soldier, but there’s no help for it, except to reslgn,.and then someone else wojald turn the brick. You know the game we play—our countries at peace, this land formally surrendered to you Americans, and yet there comes to us—to Hamilton —private Instructions to retard settlement, and retain our military posts. Lord knows what the ministry means, what they hope to gain by delay; we are only

The Man Continued to Stare at Me.

pawns In the game being played, yet wbat England says, we do. Yet how? There is only one weapon left to our hands—the savages. We cannot fight you openly, much aa we might prefer, but If wl can keep the Indian tribes hostile, we can hold back your settlements to the Ohio, until England can act openly. You knew all this?” “Yes,” I acknowledged. “The policy is clear enough.**. “And it was easily enough carried out,*’ he went on, "but for the Wyandots. We were band in glove with the tribes, and they hated the Americans. Our emissaries were In all their villages, and made the chiefs presents and promises. Raiding parties of young warriors swept through the forests clear to the Ohio, doing much damage, and driving the whites to their forts. But we needed open war. the alliance of all the tribes, and we wiusei J wag sent there, and when I

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

COWMGfTT A.C.M?CiM/?G &

’shook my head, afraid to interrupt for fear he might remember how convicting such a confession was, and refuse to continue. But apparently the man failed to conceive the depmvlty of his acts. ' “The influence of D’Auvray—ay! and that daughter of his. Saint Denis, but I believe she was the worst of the two. I Actually made love to the witch hoping thus to win her over to our side, I might have married her —who knows?” shrugging his shoulders, "but she certainly wouldn’t listen to anything else. Lord,-ttie wench was proud as Lucifer; ay! and laughed in my. face, and mocked me, until even Hamilton had to grin, when I told him the story. 'T was then I made up my. mind to win in spite of her.” “To win her, you mean ?’\ “No, no! There was but one way of doing that, and it chances I possess a dislike for Indian blood. I mean the Wyandots to our scheme. 'T was Hamilton's plan, that I suggest to her a visit to the Wabash tribes, for she was

ready for any sacrifice to spread her faith among tjie red-skins. Ay! and by good luck the scheme worked." “That then "was what took her south?" I asked, deeply Interested. “Yes; I fixed up a fine story, and the priest gave her his blessing. Oh, it was safe enough; no Indian would dare lay hand on her in evil. “The rest is short enough, but the girl's-actions puzzle me. Once we were rid of her, the father had to be attended to. *T was no easy task, for D’Auvray was a chief, and quick to quarrel. *T is small odds now how' the trick was played, but I knew of this cabin, and once here I held him prisoner, while Hamilton used his disappearance as a whip' to drive the Wyandots to war". “He spread* the rumor then that D’Auvray was captured or killed by Americans, knowing what had occurred?*’ '3 -. ’ - >*sEJartly that," with a chuckle. "He knew not where the man was, only that I had him safe." j/“And by means of this lie you deliberately plotted to ravage the frontier with Indian otft&ge," I exclaimed indignantly, ■. ’/' “Nay, not so fast friend," his eyes hardening with anger. "*T was war; we but obeyed the orders that came from England; made use of the weapons at hand.” . “I care nothing for the excuse. There was no war, and it was murder. Don’t call me friend! I am no friend 'jot; yours. Though jou may be of my own blood, of my own name, the act was murder—foul, treacherous murder. Yes! I wish I had left you to rot there in that hole." He was on his feet, his face flaming with passion, but I flung forward my rifle. z-

"Ay! I mean it, Joseph Hayward, if that be your name,” I went on, coldly enough now. "And I would say the same to Hamilton if he were here. Stand where you are, or I will kill you as I would a mad. cur. Only a fiend would boast of such an act of treachery. Now go on, and tell me the rest. I want no lie, but the truth —how did D’Auvray meet his death?” ' He stood glaring at me over the rifle barrel, his hapds gripping in desire, yet knowing well that any hostile movement meant death. “Hanged If I’ll tell you!” “Then you die where you are, you dog,” and I meant It “You have said enough already to condemn yott I believe you killed D'Auvray.” “I did not” he burst forth. "I did not even know he was dead. I am not afraid of you, or your threats, but I will tell you what occurred here. I’m i%ady enough, as you will discover yet, to answer for whatever I do. but I am not going to' bear the blame for the dastard act of another. I was friendly enough with D’Auvray, even if I did seek to trick him in this matter. There was no intent to take his life.” "Well then, go on.” . “I held him prisoner here,” he said sulkily, “although there was no violence or threat The man did not even realize he was under guard, yet I saw to it that he retained no arms, and was never but of my sight "T was my orders to hold him quiet until Lhad message from Hamilton. He suspected nothing, and there was no trouble; not so much as a word of controversy between us. Once a day I made circuit of the island to assure myself-we were alone. . Occasionally he went-with me, but the last time I left him in the cabin asleep. It was dusk when I returned; I had seen nothing suspicious, and was careless, r remember approaching the rear door, without thought of danger. I must have passed the opening of the cave here, when suddenly I was struck down from behind. I saw nothing, heard nothing of my assailant. When I returned to consciousness I was lying here. That to.alt*; " T would be Plcaud who struck you?" "Beyond doubt and then, thinking me dead, dragged me into thft hole, let how came we both in there?" "We can only guess at the rest. My theory would.be that the negro was faterrupted by, our arrival ni the cabfa.

■ ’ ■ ■ • __ - __, - • I"X g | 1 1 JX | • Lx* Br JLjL ’B

He discovered the entrance to the tunnel, and dragged you into it, thinking to escape himself. To make sure who we were he crept Into the cabin, and recovered your jacket—you left it there, didn’t you?” “Ay! It was a warm night" “The fellow must have seen some--thing that frightened him, that drove him into hiding. Later I stood there in the>,cave mouth, looking about Perhaps it was then he . crawled into the tunnel, and replaced the door. Ah, I have It—he did that later when he recognised the voice of mademoiselle.’* “Of who? Mademoiselle?" “Mademoiselle D’Auvray; she joined me as I stood there. Her presence would account for his fear.” ■ He leaned forward, as If endeavoring to decipher my face. "Are you telling me truth?” he asked hoarsely. “Is that girl here? What could have brought her to this place? What does she suspect? What does she know?" "That I cannot tell, except' that she believes- you killed her father; the discovery of your coat convinced her of that. As to how she came here — she traveled with Girty from Fort Harmar, seeking to reach the Wyandots in advance of me. She came to the cabin alone, hoping to find her father, but instead found us In possession, and D’Auvray’6 dead body. It was she who thrust me into the tunnel, and saved my life.” ■ . 1 “And, now, nuta, where Is she?” “With those Indians who attacked us, and burned the cabin —she may be a prisoner." < He laughed uneasily, shifting his position. “No fear'of that She is a wonder worker with these savages; they are afraid other; they think her cross will work miracles. Saint Denis! I would rather have her with me than all the chiefs.’.’ “Could she save a man from the toA ture, the stake?” “She has done it; ay! I saw it done, and it took some courage. But she might fall with, these renegades. Who is the man?” * "Brady; the scout who accompanied me." "I know of the fellow; she would have small chance of saving him.” He paused, than asked suddenly: “What about me? Am I a prisoner, or free to go? Do you-absolve me of murder?" “Of killing D’Auvray—yes. But yom hands are bloody enough without that crime.” \ "Then I may go my way?” "To more treachery? To those Indians to report my presence here?" ' “No, I swear—" “I accept no pledge from you. You say ’t is already war on the border; then I will act accordingly. We will wait here until she comes." "She! Not Mademoiselle D*Auvray.” “Yes," I answered tersely. J“Mademoiselle D’Auvray.”

CHAPTER XVII. An Effort to Save Brady. The night had closed down without, but the remnants of fire still eating away the dry logs of the cabin, yielded a red tinge to the interior of the cellar. It was a spectral, eery light, brightening as some breeze fanned the flames, and then as suddenly lapsing Into dimness. Yet sufficient glow found way down the entrance to enable me to see my prisoner, and observe his movements. A descending figure blotted out the red glare of the entrance. We both stared upward unable to decide who the visitor might be; I could perceive merely a dim, Indistinct outline. The smudge of a'figure descended quietly, yet with evident confidence that the dark-cellar was deserted. I attempted to step back, so as not to be between the two, but something rattled under my foot, sounding loud In the silence. The intruder stopped instantly, drawing a quick breath of surprise. "Who is here? AnsWer!" There was the sharp click of a gun lock ; the words were French, the voice unmistakable. “Hayward, mademoiselle.” - She laughed in sudden relief. “Peste! You startled me! How came you out here, iponsleur?” “The smoke of the burning cabin drove me out; else I should have suffocated. I burst .open the door.” “Burst it open!" incredulously. "Then It was not barred? Some one ha<| entered from this end." “So I discovered, mademoiselle; one of them to here with me —an old acquaintance of yours.” "Of mine!" "Ay! Step out Into the cave so the light can find entrance; now, do you know the man?” (TO BE CONTINUED.)’

Bit of First Aid.

In cases of shock and collapse h may* be advisable in certain cases where collapse, is imminent to cdmlntoter a little stimulant in the shape of brandy and water, but it has to be noted that the use oi alcohol under such circumstances must be carefully carried out. Inasmuch as in certain cases (as in apoplexy, for ex* mple) the administration of alcohol is calcu lated to prove highly injurious.

DEMAND FOR MELONS

HIGH rtfICES PAID FOR FRUIT IN EASTERN CITIES. Culture of Montreal Variety Confined Almost Exclusively to Small Group of Growers In Canada—Skill Required. (By WILLIAM STUART.) ' Some time ago the writer in an article on cultural studies of the Montreal market muskmelon, showed that the commercial culture of the famous Montreal melon is confined almost wholly to a small group of growers near Montreal, Canada. It was also pointed out that, while a large portion of these melons were marketed in Boston, New York, Philadelphia and other large eastern cities at extremely' remunerative prices, practically no effort was being made by American gardefiers to meet this demand. More recent observations have confirmed these statesaaents, and in addition, have shown that notwithstanding the fact that the Montreal growers have for the past few years received from ten to eighteen dollars a dozen wholesale for their melons, they have not as yet succeeded in supplying the demand. The

A Field of Montreal Melons. writer was informed five years ago by one of the best growers that he had a ten year contract with a leading New York city hotel, which agreed to take every first class melon he raised. This particular case to cited In order to display the keen demand which exists among high class hotels and restaurants for this variety of melon during the season In which It Is on the market The high prices which these mel-. ons command, and their restricted production notwithstanding the. high prices, are doubtless due to the fact that greater skill is demanded and closer attention to details* to necessary to success than when other varieties are grown. Furthermore, glass sash and frames are needed. > Then again, the Montreal grower confidently believes that this particular sort of melon can be successfully grown only on- certain types of soil on the island of Montreal. This belief seems to have this much basis in fact, that while occasionally grown elsewhere high flavored melons have not commonly been produced save by Montreal growers; indeed flavor has. usually been The crop to a remunerative one, when conditions favor. From $1,500 to $2,500 per acre are not unusual returns. Mr. U. S. Blair estimates an average crop at $2,250 per acre, with operating expenses, including interest on investment and depreciation, of SB9O. One grower Informed the writer. that his average sales from seven to eight acres was in the vicinity of $16,000. These melons vary greatly In size. The writer was Informed by one commission house that it had purchased a melon weighing 44 pounds; and he personally saw one weighing- fit pounds which had been selected by the grower for seed purposes. The average weight of No. 1 melons ranges from 8 to 15 pounds, with a mean weight of about 10 pounds; that is to say, a dozen melons, packed for shipment, will weigh on an average from. 120 to 130 pounds. There seems to be two distinct types of melons under cultivation, one of which to roundish oblate, the other more or less oblong, the first

Montreal Melon Weighing 22.5 Pounds.

type being slightly deeper ribbed than the latter. These two types do not seem to be separated by any of the growers; in fact when the question was put to a grower as to which type he selected for seed purposes his reply was almost invariably that he selected-from both, provided thickness and flavor of flesh were satis--factory. As none of the growers interviewed made a practise of hand fertilization of melons Intended for seed purposes. It is not at all certain that either of these types to fixed.

Feeding Value of Whey.

Whey is a by-product of cheese, and possesses more or less feeding value when fed to swine in a judicious manner. Most feeders prefer to teed it lost _ .

SAVING THE STRAW STACKS

IwMcH Will ♦ft Jkf . St t fW • a a > a O«t Themjnto ‘ (By W. F. PURDUE) Unless steps are taken at harvest time to save the straw stacks, much of the rtraw win go to waste in one way or-another. This is practically true where the stacks are poorly constructed, as they usually are with our modern wire stackers if there are no hands en the stack at tho time of the threshihg. The only way a well shaped, waterproof stack can be secured is to have one or two good hands on the stack aa the grain is being threshed. Then, after the machine leaves, the stack can be completed in a short time, as the straw win save, wlth jbut little loss. If it is not possible to have the hands on the stack while the straw is being piled up it can be worked over afterward. This should be done before rain has fallen to settle the straw, however, and a fairly good job made of it. The newly made stack should then be fenced so that the stock cannot run to it before the straw is well settled. A bunch of cattle will destroy a new stack in a very short time if permitted to have free access to it Other animals are not so bad in this respect, still, they can do considerable damage. Before any stock are turned to the straw the scatterings should be gathered from the sides of the stack. If they are allowed to remain about the stack they will form steps on which the stock can climb to the top of the stack, thus doing much damage. Loose straw about the stack should also be kept cleaned up at all times. Stock will trample this under foot and so spoil it for feeding and bedding purposes.

IMPROVING THE DAIRY HERD

This Can Be pone by Better Housing and Feeding—Capacity of Cow Can Be Measured. . There to every reason why the dairyfarmer should seek to improve his dairy herd from year to year. There to no good reason why he should not seek such Improvement. Every man. who to- doing himself, his family and society justice, to endeavoring to improve the condition of his business

An Excellent Dairy Type. from year to year. Every farmer has a desire to be a better farmer, and grow better crops, better hogs, horses and cattle year after year. Since dairying is an essential part of his business, and to that part which for many years supplies him with the money necessary to keep the other parts going, why should he not seek to milk a better cow next year than he milked this year? Aside from the incentive toward Improvement for improvement's sake, there to the added advantage of greater profit each time the cow is milked, which to twice per day for 10 or 11 months of the year. Cow improvement will come, first, through better housing and bet« ter feeding. The capacity .of the cow can then be measured. If she does not reach a standard of profit under good treatment In housing and feeding, the Improvement must then come through the breeding of a better cow.

Keep Hogs Healthy.

Anyone who has had experience in growing swipe and who has tried to treat them when sick has noticed how extremely difficult it to. It to not so difficult as long as the swine will eat.' Medicine may be pnt into the food, bub swine that are very ill will not eat. Take, tor instance, pneumonia; for treatment, when In severe cases heart failure to feared, It to recommended that digitalis shall be administered in occasional doses, but how to it to be- administered to a hog so sick that he to In danger of heart failure? The better plan by far to to try to keep the swine so comfortable that they will not be threatened with heart failure.

Spreading Manure.

On most farms manure can be hauled and scattered every month of the year to good advantage. Especially la this true where mixed farming is practised. It is much better to leave the manure on the land than in the barnyard or In piles near the. term buildings. ▲ manure spreader Is a wonderful help in lightening the work ol unloading and obtaining an even distributism over the soli