Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 226, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 September 1914 — Page 3

The PLACE Of HONEYMOONS

MOONS by HAROLD MAC GRATH

Pfcfcjres & | C.D. JL mm l

SYNOPSIS. *V f do Toscana was ringbit la Parts, which, perhaps, accounted for Edward. Courtlandt's appearance there. MulthnllHonatre, ho wandered about Where fancy dictated. He might be in Paris one day and Kamchatka the next. Following ’the opera he goes to a case and is accosted by a pretty young woman. She gtves him the address of Flora Desimone, vocal rival of Toscana, and Flora gives him the address of Kleanora. whom he Is determined to see. Courtlandt enters Eleonora's apartments. She orders him out and shoota at him. The next day Paris is shocked by the mysterious disappearance of the prima donna. Realising that be may be suspected of the abduction of EUeanora Courtlandt arranges for an alibi. Eleanors reappears and accuses Courtlandt of having abducted her. His alibi la satisfactory to the police and the charge Is dismissed. * • CHAPTER V—Continued. “No, none at all, monsieur,” quickly and decidedly. - . > “In my opinion, then, the whole affair Is a hoax, perpetrated to vex 'and annoy you. The old man who employed the chauffeur may not have (been old. I have. looked upon all sides of the affair, and it begins to look like a practical joke, mademoiselle." "Ah!" angrily. "And am I tohaveno redress? Think of the misery 1 have gone through, the suspense! My voice 4s gone. I shall not be able to.sing Again for months. Is It your suggestion that I drop the investigation?" "Yes, mademoiselle, for it does not Hook as It. we couldget anywhere with lit If yod Insist I will hold Monsieur <?ourtl&ndt; but I warn you the magistrate would not hesitate. to dlsknlss the case instantly. Monsieur Court* Jandt arrived In Marseilles Thursday (morning; he reached Paris Friday {morning. Since arriving In Paris he has fully accounted for his time. It Is impossible that he could have arranged for the abduction. Stilly If you say, I can hold him for entering your Apartment" "That would be but a farce." Nora rose. "Monsieur, permit me to wish you good day. For my part I shall

.pursue this matter to the end. I be- * Jleve this gentleman guilty, and I shall do my beet to prove lt. I>am a ■woman, and all alone. When a man has powerful friends, it is not difficult ■to build an alibi." "That is a reflection upon my word, tmadonoiaelle,” quietly Interposed the (minister.-

’ "Monsieur has been Imposed upon,” INora walked to the door. “Wait a moment, mademoiselle," said the prefect, "Why do you insist ■upon prosecuting him for something of •which he is guiltless, when you could Stave him held for something of which —. he Is really guilty?" "The one is trivial; the other is a * serious outrage. Good morning." The (attendant closed the door behind her. "A very determined young woman," mused the chief of police. . "Exceedingly,” agreed the minister. Courtlandt got up wearily. But the chief motioned him to be reseated. "I do not say that I dare not pursue my investigations; but now that mademoiselle is safely returned, I prefer not to." "May I ask who made this request?" asked Courtlandt "Request? Tee, monsieur, it was a request not to proceed further." jir "From where?” "As to that you will have to consult the bead of the state. I am not at liberty to make the disclosure." The minister leaned forward eager- - ly. "Then there is a political side to it?"' “There would be if everything had not turned out so fortunately." "I believe I understand now,” said Courtlandt his face t hardening. Strange. $e had not thought of it before. His skepticism had blinded him to all but one angle. “Your advice to drop the matter is excellent" The chief of police elevated his brows interrogatively. "For 1 presume," continued CourtlandC rising, "that mademoiselle’s abductor is by this time safely across the frontier.” CHAPTER VI. T Battling Jimmie.' There is a heavenly terrace, flanked by marvelous trees. To the left, far down below, is a curving, dark-shaded, -turquoise body of water called Lecco; to the right there lies the queen of lakes, the crown of Italy, a corn-flower sapphire known as Como. It is the Place of‘ Honeymoons. lovers come and idle there; apd* lovers of modest means rush up to it and down (from it to catch the next steamer to Menagglo. Eros was not born in Greece: of all barren mountains, un- . stirring, Hymettus, or Olympus, or whatever they -called it te- the days «f the junketing gods, la completest

No; Venus went a-tourlng and abode a jghile upon this same gracious spot once dear to Pliny the younger. Beated on one of the rustic benches, his white tennis shoes resting against the lower Iron of the railing, a Bavarian dachel snoozing comfortably across his knees, was a man of fifty. He was broad of shoulder, deep of chest and clean-shaven. He had laid aside tfis Panama hat, and his hair was dipped closely, and was pleasantly and honorably sprinkled with gray. His face was broad and tanned; the nose was tilted, and the wide mouth was both kindly and humorous. One knew, from the tint of hie bine eyes and the quirk of his lips, that when he spoke there Would be a bit of brogue. He was James Harritan, one time celebrated In the ring for his gameness, his squareness, his endurance; "Battling Jimmie" Harrigan, who, when he encountered his first knockout retired from the ring. He had to his credit eixty-one battles, of which he had easily won forty. He had been outpointed In some and had broken even in others; but only once had he been “railroaded Into dreamland," to use the parlance of the game. That was enough. He understood. Youth would be served, and he was no longer young. He had, unlike the many In his peculiar service, lived cleanly and with wisdom and foresight: he had saved both his money and big health. Today he waa at peace #tth the world, with three sound .appetites the day sad the wherewithal to gratify them. Today “Battling Jimmie" was forgotten by the public, and he was happy In the Beclualon of this forgetfulness. A new and. strange career had opened up before him; he was the father of the most beautiful prima donna In the operatic world, and, difficult as the task was, he did his best to live up to it It was hard not to offer to shake hands when he was presented to a princess or a duchess; it was hard to remember when to change the studs in his shirt; and a white cravat was the terror. of his nights,, for blB fingers, broad and etubby and powerful, had not, been trained to. the delicate task of tying a bowknot By a judicious blow in that spot where the ribs divaricate he could right well tie his adversary into a bowknot, but this string of white lawn was a most damnable. thing. Still, the puttering of the two women, their daily concern over his deportment, was.bringing him into conformity with social usages. One thing he rebelled against openly, and with such firmness that the women did not press him too strongly for fear of a general revolt On no occasion, however Impressive, would he wear a silk hat Christmas and birthdays Invariably called forth the gift of a silk hat, for the women trusted that they could overcome resistance by persistence. He never said anything, but it was noticed that the hotel porter, or the gardener, or whatever masculine head (eave his own) was available, came forth resplendent on feast days and Sundays.

Leaning back in an iron chair, with hie shoulders resting against the oak, was the Barone, altogether a different type. He was frowning over the pages of Bagot’s Italian Lakes, and he wasn’t making much headway. He was Italian to the core, for all that he aped the English Btyle and mariner. He could speak the tongue with fluency, but he stumbled and faltered miserably over the soundless type. His clothes had the Piccadilly, cut, and his-mustache, erstwhile waxed and militant, was cropped at the corners, thoroughly insular. He was thirty, and undeniably handsome. Neqr the fountain, on the green, was a third man. He was in the act Of folding up an easel and a campstool.

From a' window in the villa came a voice; only a lilt of a melody, no words, —half a dozen bars /from Martha; but every delightful note went deep into the three masculine hearts. Harrigan smiled and patted tlfe dog. The Italian scowled at the vegetable garden directly below. The jutist scowled at the-Italian., “Frits,' Frits; here, Frits!" r The dog struggled in Harrlgan’s hands and . torn himself loose. He went clattering over the path toward . the Villa and disappeared into the doorway. Nothing could keep him when that voice called. He was as ardent a lover as any, and far more favored. “Oh, you funny little dog! • You merry little dachel! Fritz, mustn’t; let go!” Silence. The artist knew that she was cuddling. the puppy to her heart, and his own grew twisted. He stoopdfemcer hla materials again and tied the bug) to the easel and the atoofakbtf shifted/ them under his arm. x/ 7 * "I’ll be up after dinner, gan.” he said. - V "All right, Abbott.” Harrigan whved his hand pleasantly. He was becoming so used to the unvarying statement that Abbott would be up after dinner, that his reply was by new purely mechanical. "She’s getting her voice back all right; eb?*‘ "Beautifully! But I really don't think Bhe ought to sing at the Haines’ villa Shnday.” -‘One song won’t hurt her. She’s made up her mind to sing. There’s nothing for os to do but to sit tight.” The artist took the path that led around the villa and thence down by many steps to the village by the waterside, to the cream-tinted cluster of shops and enormous hotels. Below, in the village, a man entered the Grand hotel. He was tall, blond, rosy-cheeked. He carried himself like one used to military service; also, like one used to giving peremptory orders. The porter bowed, the director bowed, and the proprietor himself became tr 11 v Air carpenter's square, hinged. The porter and the director recognized a personage; the proprietor reoognlsod

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, UfP.

the man. It was of no consequence that the new arrival called himself Herr Rosen. Be wm> assigned to a suite of rooms, and on returning to the burea", the proprietor squinted his eyes abstractedly. He knew every woman of importance at that time residing on the Point Certainly It could be none of these. Himmel! He struck his bands together. So that was it: the singer. He recalled the hints In certain newspaper paragraphs, the little tales with the namho left to the imagination. So that was it? What a woman? Men looked at her and went mad" And not so long ago one had abducted her in Paris. The proprietor threw up his hands in despair. What was going to happen to the peace of this bucolic spot? The youth permitted nothing to stand in his way, and the singer's father was a retired fighter with boxing gloves!

In the ballroom that evening that little son of Satan called malice-afore-thought took possession of Nora; and there was havoc. If a certain American countess had not patronised her; if certain lorgnettes (Implements of tortnre used by said son of Satan) had not been leveled In her direction; if certain fans had not been suggestively spread between pairs/ of feminine heads, —Nora would have been as harmless as a playful kitten. From door to door of the ballroom her mother fluttered like a hen with a duckling. Even Celeste was disturbed, for tiie saw that Nora’s conduct was not due to any light-hearted fun. There was Something bitter and ironic cloaked by those smiles, that tinkle of laughter. In fact, Nora ffom Tuscany flirted outrageously, The Barone sulked and tore at his mustache. He committed any number of murders, by eye and by wish. When his time came to dance with the mis-chief-maker, he whirled her around savagely, and never said a word; and once done with, he sternly returned her to her mother, which he deemed the wisest course to pureuh. . "Nora, you are behaving abominably!’ whispered her mother, pale with Indignation.

“Well, I am having a good time .. . YoUr dance? Thank you." And a tender young American led her through the mazes of the waltz, as some poet who knew whatV he was about phrased it. By way of parenthesis: Herr Rosen marched up the. hill and down again, something after the manner of a certain warrior king celebrated in verse. The objeet of hiß visit had gone to the ball at Cadenabbia. At the hotel he demanded a motor boat There was none to be had. In a furious state of mind he engaged two oarsmen to row him across the like. * And so it came to pass that when Nora, suddenly grown weary of the play, full of bitterness and distaste, hating herself and every one else in the world, stole out to the quay to communejnrith the fnoon, she saw him jump from the boat to the landing, scorning the steps. Instantly she drew her lace mantle closely about her face. It wfa useless. In the man the hunter’s Instinct was much too keen. “So 1 have found you!" “One would say that I had been in hiding?” coldly. "From me, always. I have left everything—duty, obligations—to seek you.” “From any other man that might be a compliment.” “I am-a prince,” he said proudly. She faced him with that quick resolution, that swift forming of purpose, which has made the Irish so difficult in argument and persuasion. “Will you marry me? Will you make me your wife legally? Before all the world?. Will you- surrender, for the sake of this love you profess, your right to a great inheritance? Will you risk the anger and the iron hand of your father for my sake?” “Herr Gott! lam mad!” He covered .his eyea.. , CTO -BE CONTINUED.)

Stories Old and New.

Some men are born story tellers, sdme achieve the story telling faculty, while others —who constitute the great majority—can only Bit in amazement and listen to the man who can glibly reel them off, one after another, as if they were all new, fresh and original* You can recognize a good story by the number of times yodT meet it, for the good story is picked up and repeated, interchanged, enlarged, improvised and spread, until It is liable to reappear, as natural, or in disguise, at the four corners of the earth, and at widely separated periods of time. That’s what makes the modern story teller such a delight, because until he finishes you cannot know whether you are about to meet an old friend -or be initiated Into novel mysteries. The redemning feature of it is that every year another crop of listeners grows to maturity for whom the old ones are always new, and who, in consequence, must be the perpetual inspiration and the |lvJpg encouragement to the story teller.

Kept Alive by Electricity.

The attention of surgeons at the General hospital. Birmingham,' England, has been occupied by the most remarkable case of a lad eleven years of age. He was admitted to the institution suffering from a tumor On the brain, the removal of which necessitated a most serious operation. While the surgeons were at work the patient stopped breathing and artificial respiration was resorted to. During the course of the operation a large portion of the skull was removed, and when the pressure from the brain was lightened the lad began to breathe again. An electric battery was applied to the chest, and the muscles being thus affected the breathing motion produced proved sufficient to keep the lad alive. '

SOCIALISM BRED INDUIAN WARS DECLARES CHIEF THREE DEMIS

Head of the Aboriginal “400” Reviews the Days of His Youth— Biaekfeet Were Plutocrats of the West,.Says Old Warror Representing Vested interests—Old Man Interesting and OWeAt Indian of Tribe.

Denver, Colo. —So far as can be learned from hlßtory, that section of the Rocky Mountain range now designated as Glacier National Ptfrk has been the exclusive home of the Blackfeet Indians since the first record of Its habitation by man. ' And the word exclusive Is used with its full meaning, especially in the legends of these redmen, who proudly relate that the Biaekfeet braves have "held the fort" on the roof of the Rockies In northwestern “Montana against all Invading tribes for so many moons that it is ancient history. The Biaekfeet of the Rockies enjoy the distinction of being the aristocracy of the American red race.

It is a strange coincidence that v on the reservation which adjoins Glacier Park there are now only 400 fullbloods left. They have had translated to them the significance of the meaning of “the 400” In English, and the little band of tribal aristocrats feels very proud of this numerical distinction. . v

Three Bears probably Is the most Interesting Indian that is left among the Biaekfeet, and he is the oldest. He gives an interesting explanation of how -the Biaekfeet came to be marked as the American Indians, and in his story he brings tout the fact that socialism is-an innate disgruntled spirit of the human race that is not confined to white men, by any means. He does not say it In just this language, but he emphasizes the fact that the Indians of other tribes always were jealous of the Biaekfeet and coveted' their position of contentment amid—the luxuries which this great natural game preserve of the Rocky Mountains furnished In the way of wild animals, from which the Blackfeet got a bountiful food supply, and the finest skins for their raiment and shelter. Is It any wonder there were socialists, and even anarchists among the Sioux/ Grows, Nez Perces, Kootenais and other unfriendly tribes? Three Bears does not talk a word of English, but through an Interpreter he will tell you that these tribes always were the enemies of the Biaekfeet, who, by the way, boast proudly of the fact that they never went to war with the white people. Members of the other tribes hated the Biaekfeet because they always dressed so well in deer skins and lived on the fat of the land.

In the days of the buffalo, that animal furnished almost entirely the food supply and shelter for the prairie Indians and the tribes of the Sioux

A Modern Indian Girl.

nation often found thebuffalo leaving tbe burnt grass plains to graze up under the shadows of the Rockies, where toe grass grows green. Thus, in their hunts, the Sioux had to encroach upon the Blackfeets’ domain. And that meant war.

It was not dCfly against the Sioux from the East but tribes from the South, North and West that the Blackfeet had to wage war. They- were almost constantly on the warpath to hold their own country against invasion in the early days. Three Bears says.

And at this juncture of his story old Three Bears will proudly tell his listeners that the Blackfeet never were routed from their Rocky Mountain homes. Often they fell back into Cut Bank canyon, the Two Medicine valley or some of the other Rocky mountain fastnesses, but always as a ruse. There they wbtrtd lie In ambush and slaughter their enemy at a psychological moment.

Three Bears is one of the few remaining Indians of the bow and arrow days. He has strung at his belt the claws of six grizzly bears he killed with the bQw and arrow. He must have been a powerful man sixty years ago, when he was in his early ’3os,. If his physique of. today is any criterion. Notwithstanding that he ia nearing, the century mark, he stands almost erect, bis huge frame having shrunk very little from Its original height it « feet 4.

Lazy Boy, another Blackfoot of the older generation, who was a boy when Three Bears was in his prime, says the old chief was known far and wide for his strength. Ha says the squaws lmd to gather the heaviest Sarvis berry bushes to get poles big and strong enough to make bows for Three Bears. This giant of his tribe need a bow made of a pole nearly an Inch and a half in diameter; and the arrows he shot were heavier than those used by the ordinary Indian. They were twenty-four Inches long and tipped with a long, s£arp, spear-shaped flint stone. Three Bears used a fortyinch bow and oh gala events, when

Indian Musicians.

the tribe was assembled and games and sports were In order he used to amuse his people by shooting arrows so far into the sky that even the keenest sighted young brave could not see them. His bows and arrows, Lazy Boy says, were the wonder of the younger Indians. He always wrapped the penter of his bow with raw-hide for a hand-hold and the thong he made of sinew from the bull buffalo. A snake-skin or two always were wound around the how that Three Bears "drew." And an eagle feather dangled from toe upper end of the thong. That was significant—because it was regarded as "good medicine.” Lazy Boy says he never saw Three Bears kill bear with his bow and arrow. That was before Lazy Boy was born, but he says he heard much about it, for the stories of Three Bears’ prowess with the bow and arrow have been handed down among the Blackfeet, who cherish the greatest respect for this old Indian. Lazy Boy, however, is a living witness of the fact that Three Bears has killed many buffalo and even mountain goat with his bow and arrow. While the killing of buffalo with the bow and arrow, as any old Indian knows, required mostly strength In Tdrawihg the bow,” the highest form of skill in marksmanship had to be employed to bring down mountain goat from the ledges high up on the mountain sides. When the Indian trader Invaded the B&ekfoot country with his old flintlock guns, about forty years ago, Three Bears was quick to bring in all the buffalo hides he could, that his tribesmen might be armed with these more deadly weapons. A trader whom Three Bears and hla people called Buffalo Brows, because of his shaggy eyebrows, sold many guns to the Indians, Three Bears says, exacting fifteen buffalo skins Tor each gun. For each horn filled with powder the Indiana paid one or two skins extra. But the Sioux were pressing them pretty hard about that time, so th€t Blackfeet were glad to exchange buffalo hides for firearms. The man known as Buffalo Brows now is a millionaire mid owns a string of banks in Montana. . That Three Bears and bis people became good marksmen with the flintlock guns is shown by one of the

GERMANS DINING ON LOOT FROM LIEGE

German officers at Liege feasting on food and wines seised In that city,

many battles which. Three fleers relates, they had with the Sioux. Ttefa ing on the mountainside in die Cut Bank canyon from behind which Three Bears and thirty Blackfoot braves ambuscaded 250 invading Sioux. They nearly annihilated the Sioux warriors, killing all except forty-eight, who made their escape back to the prairie country nnder the cover of darkness. During the recent Lend Show fetid In the Chicago Coliseum, there was in attendance at the Glacier National Park exhibit a band of Blackfoot In- , dlans. Three Bears had been picked by the Indian agent to be one of this party, but the old chief was not feeling well so he did not go to Chicago. His failure to visit the Windy City was a great disappointment to members of the Adventurers’ Chib, who - had planned to make him an honorary member of the organisation, which consists of some of the best-known war correspondents, military heroes and scientists, men who have seen service in all parts of the world. Theodore Roosevelt was the first and only honorary member this club had adopted. The members, most of whom know Three Bears, regarded him as the one American Indian upon whom they could confer this honor. However, Lazy Boy, Three Bears' old friend, who was one of the visiting band of Biaekfeet, was finally selected for the distinction, Inasmuch as the organization’s by-laws made It obligatory that the candidate be present ter Initiation.

INDIAN SAVES BIG TRAINLOAD

■ - r ' Discovers Bridge Has Washed Away and Flags Engineer, Who . Btops In Tima Riverton, Wyo.—Passengers on a westbound Chicago and Northwestern train were Saved from certain injury and probable death by Sumner Blake, an Arapahoe Indian, when he discovered a bridge had been washed out near here and flagged the train within 100 feet of the dangerous spot, Blake was walking from Sboshonl to Riverton, using the railroad track, when he found that a flood In Muskrat creek had washed out the piling under a bridge. Knowing that the passenger train was about due, he hastily built a fire on the track. Barely bed the blaze become bright when the train appeared. The Indian leaped about on the track In front of the fire, waving his sombrero. The engineer brought the train to a stop. Grateful passengers' overwhelmed the Ipdian with expressions of gratitude and gifts, which so embarjrassed him that he hurried away in the darkness. ' J

WAR STOPS TALKING APES

Prof. Garner In War-Bound Rotterdam With Two Giant Chimpanzees on Hla Hands. Baltimore. —With two giant chimpanzees, which he claims are capable of holding an ordinary conversation with him, Prof. Richard L. Garner, of thiß city, Is stranded In Rotterdam on his way home, after several months spent in the African jungles, where he made a study of the monkey “langU&£6. Prof. Garner sent a cablegram to hla son, Harry E. Garner, here, who has arranged to supply him with funds to London. He is not anticipating any trouble traveling with the monkeys, according to his message. Entirely cut off from the world, Prof. Gamer made exhaustive studies of the habits of the simians in five visits to the heart of Africa. His discoveries have startled scientists.

SAVES HIS FATHER FROM JAIL

Ben Hires Parent Under Prevision es Parole Law of the State of Wisconsin. - La Crosse, Wis. —Albert Wickert of La Crosse hired his father, aged sev-enty-nine, from Sheriff John A. Weber so the aged man would not have to go to jail for the first time in his life. Andrew Wickert was charged with shooting s shotgun carelessly and ia such a manner that shot enteral the skin of Louis Beesecker. Judge Baldwin found him guilty and sentenced him to ten days. The son furnished a cash bond and hired his father, under the parole law, to work on his farm. The county will collect the old man’s wages from his son and turn a portion of the amount over to the father’s family.