Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 145, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 June 1915 — Page 2

Dark Hollow

By Anna Katharine Green

SYNOPSIS. A carious crowd of neighbors lnrm.de tbs mysterious home of Judge Ostrmnder, county Judge and eccentric recluse, following a relied woman who proves to be the widow of a man tried before the Judge and electrocuted foi* murder years before. Her daughter Is engaged to the Judge's eon. from whom he Is estranged, but the murder is between the lover*. , She plans to dear her husband's memory and asks the Judge's aid. Deborah Scovllle reads the newspaper clippings telling the story Of the murder of Algernon Etheridge by John Scovllle in Dark Hollow, twelve years before. The Judge and Mrs. ScoTtUe meet at Bpencer's Folly and she shows him how, on the day of the murder, she saw the shadow of a man, whittling a stick and wearing a long peaked cap. The Judge engages her and her daughter Reuther to live with him In his mysterious home. Deborah and her lawyer. Black, go to the police station and me the stick used to murder Etheridge. She discovers a broken knife-blade point embedded in It. Deborah and Reuther go to live with the Judge. Deborah sees a portrait of Oliver, the Judge's son. with a black band painted across the eyea That night she finds. In Oliver's room, a cap with a peak tike the shadowed one. and a knife with a broken blade-point. Anonymous letters and a talk with Miss Weeks Increase her suspicions and fears. She finds that Oliver was In the ravine on the murder night. Black warns her and shows her other anonymous letters hinting at Oliver's guilt. In the court room the Judge la handed an anonymous note. The note la tricked up and read sdoud. A mob follows the Judge to his homa. Deborah tails him why suspicion has been aroused against Oliver. The Judge shows Deborah a statement written by (River years ago telling how he saw her husband murder Spencer at Bpenear's Folly on the night the house was burned. A vain attempt to silence the anonymous letter writer Is made. CHAPTER XlV—Continued. **l didn't aak to see the ladles,’* protested Flannagan, turning with a slinking gait toward the door. It they only had let him go! If the Judge In his new self-confidence had not been eo anxious to deepen the effect end make any future repetition of the situation Impossible! “You understand the lady,** he Interposed. with the quiet dignity which was so imposing on the bench. “She has no sympathy with your ideas and no faith In your conclusions. She believes absolutely 4n my son’s Innoeence." “Do yon. ma’am?** The man had tarned and was surveying her with the dogged Impudence of his class. “I’d like to hear you say It. If you don’t mind, ma’am. Perhaps, then. I’ll believe It." "I — " she began, trembling so, that she failed to reach her feet, although she made one spasmodic effort to do so. "1 believe—Oh. 1 feel ill! It’s been too much —I— ’* her head fell forward and she turned herself quite away from them all. “You see, she ain’t so eager, Jedge, as you thought.” laughed the bill-pos-ter. with a clumsy bow he evidently meant to be sarcastic. “Oh, what have I done!" moaned Deborah, starting up as though she would fling herself after the retreating figure, now half way down the ball. She saw in the look of the judge as he forcibly stopped her, and heard in the lawyer’s whisper as he bounded past them both to see the fellow out: “Useless; nothing will bridle him now;" and finding no support for her despairing spirit either on earth or, as she thought. In heaven, she collapsed where she sat and fell unnoticed to the floor, where she lay prone at the feet of the equally unconscious figure of the judge, fixed in another attack of his peculiar complaint And thus the lawyer found them when be returned from closing the gate behind Flannagan "I cannot say anything, I cannot do anything till 1 have had a few words with Mrs. Scovllle. How soon- do you fbink I can apeak to her?” “Not very soon. Her daughter says she is quite worn out Would it not be better to give her a rest for tonight. Judge?” The judge, now quite recovered, but strangely shrank and wan. showed no surprise at this request odd as it was. on the lips of this honest but somewhat crabbed lawyer, but answered out of the fullness of his own heart and from the depths of his preoccupation: “My necessity is greater than her. The change I sav In her Is inexplicable. One moment she was all fire and determination, satisfied of Oliver’s innocence and eager to proclaim It The next —bu’ yon were with us. You witnessed her hesitation —felt its fores end what Its effect was upon the damnable scamp who has our honor—the honor of the Ostranders under his tongue. Something must hare produced this change. What? good friend, what?" "I don’t know any more than yon do, Judge. Bat I think you are mistaken about the previous nature ot her feelings. I noticed-that she was not at peace with herself when she came into the room." L “What's that?** *Tbe tone was short, end for the first time irritable. “The change, there was a. change, was not so sudden a# you think. She looked troubled, and as I thought, irresolute when she came into the roan” £ "Yon don't know her; you don’t know whan pa deed between us. She was all right then, bu£ —go to her. Black. She must have recovered by fiUfl tiaM. Aak her to come here for a

minute. 1 won’t detain her. 1 will wait for her warning knock right here." The Judge had declared bis necessity to be greater than hers, and after Mr. Black had subjected him to one of hlj most searching looks he decided that this was so. and quietly departed upon his errand. The Judge left alone, sat, a brooding figure in bis .great chair, with no jteht In heart or mind to combat the shadows of approaching night settling heavier and heavier upon the room and upon himself with every slow passing and Intolerable minute. At last, when the final ray had departed and darkness reigned supreme, there came a low knock on the door. Then a troubled cry: “Oh, judge, are you here?" “Don't come any nearer; It Is hot necessary." A pause, then the quick question ringing hollow from the darkness: “Why have your doubts returned? Why are you no longer the woman you were when not an hour ago and in this very spot you cried. ’I will be Oliver’s advocate!’" Then, aa no answer came —as minutes passed, and no answer came, he spoke again and added: “I know that you are 111 and exhausted —broken 'between duty a-.d sympathy; but you must answer me, Mrs. Scovllle. My affairs won’t wait. 1 must know the truth and all the truth before this day is over.’’ “You shall.” Her voice sounded hollow, too. and, oh, how weary! “You allowed the document you showed me

She Lay at the Feet of the Unconscious Figure of the Judge.

to remain a little too long before my eyes. That last page—need I say it?” “Say it.” * "Shows —shows change, Judge Ostrander. Some words have been erased and new ones written in. They are not many, but —” “I understand. I do not blame, you; Deborah.” The words came after a pause and very softly, almost as softly as her own. but which had sounded its low knell of doom through the darkness. “Too many stumblingblocks in your way, Deborah, too much to combat- The most trusting heart must give way under such a strain. That page was tampered with. 1 tampered with It myself. lam not expert at forgery. I had better have left it. as he wrote If Then after another silence, he added, with a certain vehemence: “We will struggle no longer. either you or I. The boy must come home. Prepare Reuther, or. If you think best provide a place for her where she will be safe from the storm which bids fair to wreck us here. No. don’t speak; just ask Mr. Black to return, will you?” When Mr. Black re-entered the study, it was to find the room lighted and the judge bent over the table, writing. “You are going to send for Oliver?" he queried. The Judge hesitated, then motioning Black to sit, said abruptly: “What is Andrews’ attitude In this matter?" Andrews was Shelby’s district attorney. Black’s answer was like the man. **! saw him for one minute an hoar ago. I think, at present, he Is Inclined to be both deaf and dumb, but If he’s driven to action, he will act And. Judge, the man Flannagan isn’t going to stop where he is.” “Black, be merciful to my misery. What does this man know? Have you any Idea?" “No. Judge, I haven't He’s as tight as a drum —and u noisy. It Is possible —just possible that he’s as empty. A few dgy* will tell.” “I cannot wait for a few days. I hardly feel as if I could wait a few hours. Oliver most iwbu, even if—if

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND

the consequences are likely to be fatal. An Ostrander once skulk. Oliver has been accuaea sIM —tfend tbatl" be quickly cried, pulffhg •orwhrd the telegram he had written. Mr. Black took up the telegram and read: Come at once Imperative. No drier end no excuse, ARCHIBALD OSTRANDER. “Mrs. Scovllle will supply the address," continued the poor father. “You will see that It goes, and that Its sending Is kept secret. The answer. If any la sent had better be directed to your office. What do you say. Black?" “I am your friend, right straight through. Judge. Your friend." “And my boy's adviser?" “I'm a surly fellow. Judge. 1 have known you all these years, yet I’ve never expressed—never said what I even find It hard to say now, that — that my esteem Is something more then esteem; that —that I’ll do anything for you. Judge." “1 —we won’t talk of that. Black. Tell Mrs. S *ovllle to keep me informed —and bring mu any message that may come. The boy, even If he leaves the first thing In the morning, cannot get here before tomorrow night” “Not possibly.” “He will telegraph. 1 shall hear from him. O God! the hours 1 must wait; my boy! my boy!” It was nature’s irrepressible cry. Black pressed his hand and went out with the telegram.

CHAPTER XV. He Must Be Found. Next morning an agitated confab took place at the gate, or rather between the two front gates. Mr. Black rang for admittance, and Mrs. Scovllle answered the calL “One moment, Mrs. Scovllle. How car I tell the judge! Young Ostrander is gone—fled the city, and 1 can get no clue to his whereabouts. I have been burning the telegraph wires ever since the first dispatch, and this Is the result Where is Reuther?" "At Miss Weeks. I had to command her to leave pne alone with the judge. It’s the flirt time I ever spoke unkindly to her Have you the messages with you?” He bundled them into her hand.

“I will hand them In to him. We can do nothing less and nothing more. Then if he wants you. I will telephone.” "Mrs. Scovllle —” she felt his hand laid softly on her shoulder —“there is some one else in this matter to consider besides Judge Ostrander.” “Reuther? Oh, don’t I know it! She’s not out of nay mind a moment” “Reuther Is young, and has a gallant souL I mean you, Mrs.’ Scovllle, you : You are not to succumb to this trial. You have a future —a bright future — or should have. Do not endanger it by giving up all your strength now. It’s precious, that strength, or would be—” “He must be found! Oliver must be found!” How the words rung in her ears. She had handed In the messages to the waiting father; she had uttered a word or two of explanation, and then, at his request, had left him. But his last cry followed her: “He must be found!” Mr. Black looked serious. “Pride or hope?” he asked. "Desperation,” she responded, with a guilty look about her. “Possibly, some hope Is in It, too. Perhaps, he thinks that any charge of this nature must fall before Oliver’s manly appearance. Whatever he thinks, there Is but one thing to do: Find Oliver.” “Mrs. Scovllle, the police have started upon that attempt. I got the tip this morning.” “We must forestall them. To satisfy the judge, Oliver must come of his own accord to face these charges.” “It’s a brave stock. If Oliver gets his father’s telegram he will come.” “But how are we to reach him! We are absolutely in the dark.” “If I could go to Detroit; I might strike Borne clue; but I cannot leave the judge. Mr. Black, he told me this morning when I carried in his breakfast that he shotild see no one and go’nowhere till I brought him word that Oliver was In the house. The hermit life has begun again. What shall we do? Advise me tn this emergency, for I feel as helpless as a child —as a lost child ” “You say you cannot go to Detroit. Shkll 1 go? Court is adjourned. I know of nothing more Important than Judge Ostrander’s peace of mind —unless it is yours. I will go If you say so.” “Will It avail? Let me think. 1 knew him well, and yet not well enough to know where he would be most likely to go under impulse.” “There is some one who knows him better than you da” “Reuther? Oh. she mustn’t be told—’’ “Yes, she must. She’s oar (me adviser. Go for her—or send me.” “It won’t be necessary. There’s ber ring at the gate. But, oh, Mr. Black, think again before yon trouble this fragile child of mine with doubts an** questions which make her mother tremble.” “She has sources of strength which yon lack. She believes absolutely In Oliver’s integrity. It will carry her through." “Please let her in, Mr. Black. I will wait here while you tell her.” Mr. Black hurried from the room. When his form became visible on the walk without, Deborah watched him from where aho stood tar back In the room. A staff had been put In her hand, rough to tha touch, b~t firm under pressure, and she needed such a staff.- Bat she forgot gratitude and every lesser emotion 'ln watching Raathefs expression. The young girl.

running Into ber onus, burst <et with the glad cryv s* "Oliver Is no longer In Detroit but he’s wanted here, and Mr. Black *nd 1 are going to find him. 1 think I know where to look Get me ready, mother dear; we are going tonight” “But” objected Deborah. “If you know where to look for him. why take the child? Why go yourself? Why not telegraph to these places?" His answer was a look, quick, sharp and enigmatical enough to require explanation. He could not give it to her then, hut later, when Reuther had left them, he said: “Men who fly their engagements and secrete themselves, with or without a pretext, are not so easily reached. We shall have to surprise Oliver Ostrander, in order to place hla father’s message in his hands.” “You.may be fight But Reuther? Can she stand the excitement —the physical strain?" “You have the harder task of tho two, Mrs. Scovllle. Leave the uttle one to me. She shall not suffer ” Deborah’s response was eloqnent. It was only a look, but it made his harsh features glow and his hard eye soften. But his thoughts, If not his hopes, received a check when, with every plan made and Reuther in trembling anticipation of the journey, he encountered the triumphant figure of Flannagan coming out of police headquarters. His jaunty air, bis complaisant nod, admitted of but one explanation. He had told his story to the chief authorities and been listened to. Proof that he had something of actual moment to tell them; something which the district attorney’s office might feel bound to take up. A night of stars, seen through swaying treetopß whose leaves crisping to their fall, murmured gently of vanished hopes and approaching death. Below, a long, low building with a lighted window here and there, surrounded by a heavy growth of trees which are but the earnest of the Illimitable stretch of the Adirondack woods which painted darkness on the encircling horizon. Within, Reuther seated In the glow of a hospitable fire of great logs, talking earnestly to Mr. Black. As they were placed, he could see her much better than she could see him, his back being to the blaze and she, in its direct glare. He could, therefore, study her features without offense, and this be did steadily and with deep Interest, all the while she was talking. He was looking for signs of physical weakness or fatigue; but be found none. The pallor of her features was a natural pallor, and In their expression, new forces were becoming apparent, which gave him encouragement, rather than anxiety, so- the adventure whose most trying events lay still before them. This is what she was saying: “I cannot point to any one man of the many who have been about us ever since we started north. But that we have been watched and our route followed. I feel quite convinced. Bdt, as you saw, no one besides ourselves left the cars at this station, and I am beginning to hope that we shall remain unmolested till we can take the trip to Tempest lodge. How far Is it, Mr. Black?" (TO BE CONTINUED.)

WHEN AN ICEBERG COLLAPSES

Event Always Source of Great Danger to Craft That May Be In the Immediate Vicinity. One of the main dangers In the proximity of an Iceberg is Its unknown extent beneath the water. It is told that the passengers of a steamboat on the Newfoundland coast successfully Importuned the captain to approach an iceberg for a close Inspection, says a writer In the Wide World. While still apparently sufficiently distant for safety some movement in the water or natural decay acted upon the berg, and it split apart Instantly it began to readjust its balance. The tremendous masses beneath the water steadily rose as the pieces swung over, and one wide oxtending ledge came up beneath the boat “What shall we do now?" Inquired a tourist “Get down on your knees,” was the terse reply of the captain. But the great wave from the tumbling Ice swept down on the boat and washed it to safety. The collapse of an iceberg spreads danger to great distances. It may be too far distant to threaten a craft itself, but the wave it raises will swamp the largest boat in the immediate neighborhood.

Saw New Era of Warfare.

At the first Interview between Napoleon and the veteran generals whom he was to command Rampon undertook to give the young commander some advice. Napoleon, was impatient of advice, exclaimed: “Gentlemen, the art of war is in Its Infancy. The time has passed In which enemies are mutually to appoint the place of combat, advance hat In hand and say ‘Gentlemen, will you have the goodness to fire?* "—“Table Talk and Opinions of Napoleon Buonaparte."

Bonaparte’s Unlucky Shot.

It is somewhat remarkable that the first shell fired at Toulon was by the hand of Bonaparte, and that it fell upon and entirely destroyed the very house where he and his family had resided during the short time they Inhabited the town after their removal from Corsica, It was a hotel kept by the foster sister of his mother, the daughter of her nurse. The husband cf the unfortunate woman was killed in the explosion.—The Napoleon Ansadotes, edited by W. H. Ireland

WAR TIME TRAVEL IN SERBIA

MILITARY ROAD BUILT BY CAESAR

EVEN the beginning of the voyage had a spice of excitement about It. With the exception of the leader of the expedition, not one of us had ever been in Serbia before; nor, indeed, had we more than the vaguest notions regarding the country and its people. Some of us, moreover, like myself, had no experience whatever of hospital work; so that the whole adventure seemed as undefined and shadowy as any lover of romance could desire, writes John W. N. Sullivan in the Illustrated L<ondon News. We started at midnight, but none of us were in bed. The rumor that we were presently to pass through an area of floating mines laid by the Germans, combined with the natural excitement of leaving England for an indefinite period, effectually banished sleep for the time being. And we were to have a convoy! As a matter of fact, the convoy was a very tame affair. We occasionally saw a smudge on the horizon which we were informed was one of the escorting cruisers, and sometimes two or three .vi-cious-looking destroyers would come near enough to be seen; but apart from these transient appearances the convoy, from the spectacular point of view, might just as well not have existed. It left us at Gibraltar, and from there till Malta it was no longer necessary to have lights out at night From Malta to Salonlkl the weather was bad, and* except for two days’ respite at Athens, the time was spent in enduring violent internal upheavals succeeded by spells of sad meditation. But from Saloniki it is merely a day’s train journey to Skoplje—or Uskub, as the Turks called it when it belonged to them—and at Skoplje our hospital is situated. A Serbian train is never in a hurry. It proceeds with leisurely dignity along its single-track railway, taking 13 hours to travel 150 miles, and thus affording one plenty of time to study Serbian scenery. The Vardar, a river which reßumbles a tumultuous stream of pea-soup, accompanies the railway throughout its entire length. At intervals we crawl cautiously and almost imperceptibly over high wood bridges, the Vardar boiling beneath and the bleak, bare mountains enclosing one on either side. Stationed at regular distances along the line we see a little thatched mud hut, and standing beside it a motionless Serbian sentry, apparently quite alone in the surrounding desolation. It has a sobering effect, this Serbian scenery—we gradually lose the holiday feeling; we become serious and a little depressed. Arrival at Uskub. With the fall of dusk we light our candles, sticking them on projecting parts of the carriage (I have not got the grease off my uniform yet), and open our bags of provisions. Fortunately it is a warm day, for there is no heating or lighting apparatus on the train. We finish our meal, talk a little, and sleep a little, until presently the train clanks slowly to a standstill. We have arrived. Skoplje or Uskub has, as we discovered later, more points of interest than most Serbian towns. It is bisected by the Vardar, one side being Turkish in population and buildings, and the other side Serbian. The contrast is really very interesting, and in some ways instructive. But at first one had no opportunity of seeing the town; the hospital claimed all one’s attention. After working twelve to fifteen hours every day, one has little leisure or inclination for sight-seeing-The walk (in high rubber boots) through the semiliquid streets of Uskub from the orderlies’ sleeping quarters to the hospital, and the view of the distant mountains from the hospital windows, was for some time our sole acquaintance with this part of Serbia. On the other hand, one gained c"!te a good insight into the character of the Serbian people from the patients in the wards. They are a curious race. That they are brave and efficient fighters is shown by their records in this and other wars; but it Is more interesting to note what one might call their peace qualities. The first thing which strikes one about the Serbian patients in a ward is their extraordinary volubility and cheerfulness. They turn everything into a joke, including death and disfigurement. Their sense of humor, like their sense of honor, oc-

casionally differs markedly from that of an Englishman. With respect to the latter point, it may be mentioned that their two national card games, are so extremely simple as to be entirely uninteresting when played properly. So cheat continually. The whole art of these games, as played by the Serbs, consists in their more or less dexterous methods of cheating. Intelligent Polk, But Ignorant. They are a quick, intelligent people, yet remarkably Ignorant. They soon master the workings of any piece of apparatus if they see it a few times. It was often quite amusing to hear their perfectly just comments on their own temperature charts. On the other hand, a man who had been fitted with a glass eye complained most bitterly because he could not see out of it. Their high spirits and ready intelligence, combined with a certain careless improvidence, have caused one writer to refer to them as “the Irish of the Balkans.’’ In appearance they are dark and usually handsome, the men being, on the whole, distinctly more good-looking than the women. It is not difficult to acquire an elementary knowledge of the Serbian language, which is probably the simplest of the Slavonic tongues; and the Serbs display their usual quickness in recognizing one’s linguistic limitations, and in confining their conversatipn to the few words one has acquired. They love argument and repartee, although some of their jokes make a modest orderly devoutly thankful that the ward sister has not troubled to extend her knowledge of Serbian beyond about six words. My first Sunday in the wards was marked by a rather curious experience. I was engaged in dressing a wounded leg when an extraordinary figure appeared before me, carrying in his outstretched arms a little tray from whence a heavy smoke was rising. This smoke he very solemnly and deliberately puffed into my face, and then turned to honor the patients with his attentions. The sight of the men crossing themselves suddenly brought home to my bewjlderqd mind the fact that the man was a Russian priest in full dress, and that, in obedience to some rite, he was puffing incense on each in turn. It was too late for me to cross myself, so I nodded and smiled agreeably at the priest, who seemed perfectly satisfied with my behavior, to my great relief. When at last thtf pressure of the work grew less, and we Lad an hour to spare, we made straight for the Turkish quarter of the town. Innumerable people, streets of Incredible narrowness and filth, at all inclinations to the horizontal; hovels, crazylooking little shops, and mosques—it was fascinating and bewildering; but we went there seldom and never stayed for long, because, even more than the other quarters of that dis-ease-stricken town, the Turkish quarter was the home of the dreaded typhus.

A Reminder.

A senator was talking about the war. “Each side,” he said, “is declaring hotly now that it will never receive the foe within its hospitable borders again, and that after the war there will be no more trading with the enemy forevermore. * , "When we hear talk like that let" us smile skeptically, remembering the vain campaign of Wilberforce. "When Wilberforce was fighting against slavery in London, a shopkeeper put up a sign, ‘No goods made with slave-grown cotton sold here.' Bat the man’s rival then pat up another sign, ‘AH oar goods are made firom cheap, slave-grown cotton.' "This latter sign got all the trade, of course. If the first one hadn’t been taken down at once it would have driven its author into bankruptcy.”

Mind Elsewhere.

“Doppel has been aeroaa the Atlantic six or seven times, and it is his favorite boast that he has never been seasick.” **l suppose it’s tiresome to hear him tell about it.” . k. ; ' “Weil, no. It seems that he get into poker games so stiff he forgot he