Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 237, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 October 1915 — Page 2

the CZAR'S SPY .. The Mystery of a Silent Love ..

By Chevalier WILLIAM LE QUEUX AUTHOR of "THE CLOSED BOOK,” ETC.

*o' AUTHOR «f *mt (WED DOOR," ETCILLUSTRATIONS C D RHODES whmwfof rnr ur cuguw*r co

ILLUSTRATIONS by C.D.RHODED

BYNOPSIB. Gordon Gregg la called upon In Legbar* by Hornby, the yacht Lola's owner, and dining aboard with him and his "friend, Hylton Chatar. accidentally sees a torn photograph of a young girl. That night the consul's safe is robbed. The police find that Hornby is a fraud and the Lola's name a false one. Gregg visits Capt. Jack Durnford of the marines aboard his vessel Durnford knows, but will not reveal, the mystery of the Lola. "<t concerns a woman.” In London Gregg is trapped nearly to his death by a former servant. Olinto. Visiting In Dumfries Gregg meets Muriel Leithcourt. Hornby appears and Muriel Introduces him as Martin Woodroffe. her father's friend. Gregg finds that she is engaged to Woodroffe. Gregg sees a copy of the torn photograph on the Lola and finds that the young girl is Muriel's friend. Woodroffe disappears Gregg discovers the body of a murdered woman In Rannoch wood. The body disappears and In its place is found the body of Olinto. Gregg talks to the police but conceals his own knowledge of the woman. Muriel calls secretly on Gregg and tells him that she is certain that a woman as well as a man has been murdered.

CHAPTER Vl.—Continued. I at once gladly accepted her Invitation to Investigate the curious disappearance of the body of poor Ollnto’s fellow-victim, determined to obtain the secret knowledge possessed by that smart, handsome girl before me. That her suspicions were in the right direction I felt confident, yet if the dead woman had been removed and hidden by the assassin it must have been after the discovery made by me. The fellow must have actually dared to return to the spot and carry off the victim. Yet if he had done that, why did he allow the corpse of the Italian to remain and await discovery? He might perhaps have been disturbed and compelled to make good his escape. "You tell me. Miss Muriel, that you suspect the truth, and yet you deny all knowledge of the murdered man!" I exclaimed in a tone of slight reproach. “Until we have cleared up the mystery of the woman I can say nothing," was her answer. “I can only tell you, Mr. Gregg, that if what I suspect is true, then the affair will be found to bo one of the strangest, most startling and most Ingenious plots ever devised by one man against the life of another.” “Then a man is the assassin, you think?" I exclaimed quickly. “I believe so. But even of that I am not at all sure. We must first find the woman." .•*• • • • • Rannoch wood was already in its gold-brown glory of autumn, and as I stood with Muriel Leithcourt on the edge of it, near the spot where Olinto Santini had fallen, the morning sun was shining in a cloudless sky. 1 asked her opinion which was the most likely corner, but she replied:

“I know so little of this place, Mr. Gregg. You have known it for years, whilst this is only my first season here." “Very well,’* I answered. “Let us start here, and first take a small circle, examining every bush carefully. The body may have easily been pushed in beneath a thicket and well escape observation.** And so together, after taking our bearings, we started off, working our way Into the thick undergrowth, beating with our sticks, and making minute examination of every bush or heap of dead leaves. All through the morning we walked on, our hands badly torn by brambles. My own coat waa badly torn.-and more than once I was compelled to scramble through almost Impassable thickets; yet we found no trace of any previous intruder, and having completed our circle were compelled to admit that the gruesome evidence of the second crime did not exist at that spot. Muriel was untiring in her activity. Hither and thither she went, beating down the high bracken and tangles of weeds, poking with her stick into every hole and corner, and going farther and farther into the wood in the certainty that the body was therein concealed. Soon we came to a deep wooded ravine of the existence of which I was in ignorance. It was a kind of small glen through which a rivulet flowed, but the banks were covered with a thick, impenetrable undergrowth. “This la a most likely place,*' declared my dainty little companion as we approached it. “Anything could easily be concealed in that high bracken down there. Let us search ths whole glen from and to cad," she cried with enthusiasm. Acting upon her suggestion and without thought of luncheon, we made a descent of the steep bank until we reached the rocky bed of the stream. Undaunted, she went on, springing from stone to stone and steadying herself with her stick. If we could only discover the body of the dead woman, then the rest would be clear, ebe declared. She would openly denounce the assassin. The sun had set, and the sky above showed the crimson of the distant afterglow, warning us that it was time we began to think of how to make our exit We were passing around a sharp bend ta the glen where the bowlders were so thickly moss grown that ouri

feet fell noiselessly, when I thought I heard a voice, and raising my hand we both halted suddenly. “Someone is, there,” I whispered quickly. “Behind that rock.” She nodded in the affirmative, for she, too, had heard the voice.. We listened, but the sound was not repeated. That someone was on the other side of the rock I knew, for in a tree in the vicinity a thrush was hopping from twig to twig, sounding its alarm-cry and objecting to being disturbed. Therefore we crept silently forward together to ascertain who were the intruders. The only manner, however, tn which to get a view beyond the huge rock that, having fallen across the stream centuries ago, had diverted its channel, was to clamber up its mossy sides to the summit This we did eagerly and breathlessly, without betraying our presence by the utterance of a single word and laying ourselves flat as we came to its summit. Then together we peered over, just, however, in time to see two dark figures of men disappearing into the thicket on the opposite side of the glen. “Who are they, I wonder?” I asked. “Do you recognize them?” “No. They are entire strangers to me,” was her answer. “But they seem fairly well dressed. Perhaps two sportsmen from some shooting party in the neighborhood. They’ve lost their way most probably." “But I don’t think they carried guns,” I said. “One of them had something over his shoulder?" "Wasn’t it a gun? I thought it was.” "No, he wasn't carrying it like he’d carry a gun. It was short—and seemed more like a spade." “A spade!” she gasped quickly in a low voice. At the moment my eye caught sight of a portion of the ground below us at the base of the rock which had evidently been recently disturbed. “It is a spade the man is carrying!" I cried excitedly. “Look down therq! They’ve just been burying something!” Her quick eyes followed the direction 1 indicated, and she answered: “I really believe they have concealed something!”

Then when we had allowed the men to get beyond hearing, we both slipped down to the other side of the bowlder and there discovered many signs that the earth had been hurriedly excavated and only just replaced. Quicker than it takes to describe the exciting incident which followed, we broke down the branch of a tree and with it commenced moving the freshly disturbed earth, which was still soft and easily removed. Muriel found a dead branch ip the vicinity, and both of us set to work with a will, eager to ascertain what was hidden there. That something had certainly been concealed was, to us, quite evident, but what it really was we could not surmise. Digging with a piece of wood was hard and laborious work and it was a long time before we removed sufficient earth to make a hole of any size. But Muriel exerted all her energy, and both of us worked on in dogged silence full of wonder and anticipation. With a spade we should have soon been able to investigate, but the earth having apparently been stamped down hard prior to the last covering being put upon it, our progress was very slow and difficult At last, a quarter of an hour or so after we had commenced, Muriel, standing in the hole and having dug her stake deeply into the ground, suddenly cried: “Look! Look, Mr. Gregg! Why—whatever is that?” I bent forward as she indicated, and my eyes met an object so unexpected that I was held dumb and motionless. The amazing enigma was surely complete!

CHAPTER VII. Contains a Surprise. The first object brought to light, about two feet beneath the surface, was a piece of dark gray woolen stuff which, when the mold whs removed, proved to be part of a wdman’s skirt. With frantic eagerness I got into the hole we had made and removed the soil with my hands, until I suddenly touched something hard. A body lay there, doubled up and crushed into the well-like hole the men had dug. Together we pulled it out, when, to • my surprise, on wiping away the dirt from the hard, waxen features, I recognized it as the body of Armida, the woman who had been my servant in Leghorn and who had afterwards married Olinto. Both had been assassinated! When Muriel gazed upon the, dead woman’s face she gave vent to an expression of surprise. The body was evidently not that of the person she had expected to find. “Who is she, I wonder?” my companion ejaculated. “Not a lady, evidently, by her dress and hands.” “Evidently not,** was my response.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER. IND.

for I sttfi deemed it beat to keep my own counsel. I recollected the story Olinto had told me about his wife; of her illness and her longing to return to Italy. Yet the dead woman’s countenance must have been healthy enough in life, although her hands were rough and hard, showing that she had been doing manual labor. Armlda had been a particularly good housemaid, a black-haired, black-eyed Tuscan, quick, cleanly and full of a keen sense of humor. It was a great shock to me to find her lying dead. The breast of her dress was stained with dried blood, which, on examination, I found had issued from a deep and fatal wound beneath the ear where she had been struck an unerring blow that had severed the artery. “Those men —those men who burled her! I wonder who they were?” my companion exclaimed in a hushed voice. "We must follow them and ascertain. They are certainly the murderers who have returned in secret and concealed the evidence of this second crime.”

"Yes,” I said. "Let us go after them. They must not escape us.” Then, leaving the exhumed body beneath a tree, I caught Muriel by the waist and waded across the deep channel worn by the stream at that point, after which we both ascended the steep bank, where the pair had disappeared in the darkness of the wood. We went on through the gloomy forest, for the light bad faded and evening was now creeping on. From time to time we halted and listened. But there was a dead silence, broken only by the shrill cry of a night bird and the low rustling of the leaves in the autumn wind. The men knew their way, it seemed, even though the wood was trackless. Yet they had nearly twenty minutes start of us, and in that time they might be already out in the open country. .Would they succeed in evading us? Yet even if they did, I could describe the dress of one of them, while that of his companion was as far as I made out, dark blue, of a somewhat nautical cut He wore also a flat cap, with a peak. We went on. But we saw no sign of the men who had so secretly concealed the body of their victim. “You expected to discover another woman, did you not. Miss Leithcourt?" I asked presently, as we walked across the moor. “Yes,” she answered. "I expected to find an entirely different person.” “But if the identity of the dead woman is established?” I asked. “It might furnish me with a clue," she exclaimed quickly. “Yes. try and discover who she is.” “Who was the woman you expected to find?" "A friend —a very dear friend." “Will you not tell me her name?” I inquired. “No, it would be unfair to her.” she responded decisively, an answer which to me was particularly tantalizing. It was quite dark when I took leave of my bright little companion, who,

Then Together We Peered Over.

tired out and yet uncomplaining, pressed my hand and wished me good fortune in my investigation. At half-past nine that night 1 pulled up the dogcart before the chief police station at Dumfries, and alighting at once sought the big fair Highlander Mackenzie, with whom I had had the consultation on the previous day. When we were seated in his room beneath the hissing gas jet, I related my adventure and the result of my investigation. . “What?” he cried, jumping up. “You’ve unearthed another body—a woman’s?" ‘1 have. And what is more, I can identify her,” I replied. “Her name is Armida. and she was wife of thej murdered man Olinto Santini." “Then both husband and wife weffl killed?" “Without a doubt—a double tragedy.” “But the two men who concealed the body! Will you describe them?” ' I did so, and he wrote at my dictation. and calling in one of his subinspectors, gave him instructions for the immediate circulation of the description to all the police stations in the county, saying the two meh were wanted on a chance at willful murder. ■ ■

His up* were pressed together in distinct dissatisfaction as he asked: "The body ta still to the glen, where you left it?” “Yes. If you wish. I will take you to the spot I can drive you and your assistant up there.” - “Certainly. Let us go.” be exclaimed. rising at once and ringing his bell. “Get three good lanterns and some matches and put them in this gentleman’s trap outside," he said to the constable who answered bls summons. “And tell Gilbert Campbell that I want him to go with me up to Rannoch wood.” " He asked: "When do you expect to get a telegram from your friend, the

"Look! Look, Mr. Gregg!”

consul at Leghorn? lam anxious for that, in order may commence inquiries in London." “The day after tomorrow, I hope. He will certainly reply at once, providing the dead man’s father can still be found.” At that moment a tall, thin man, who proved to be Detective Campbell, entered, and five minutes later we were all three driving over the uneven cobbles of Dumfries and out in the darkness towards Rannoch. When we reached the wood we all descended and, with Mackenzie and Campbell carrying lanterns, walked on carefully, keeping straight on in the direction of the glen, and halting every now and then to listen for the rippling of the stream. At last, after some difficulty, we discovered it, and searching along the bank with our three powerful light, I presently detected the huge mossgrown bowlder whereon I had stood when the pair of fugitives had disappeared. “Look!” I cried. “There’s the spot!” And quickly we clambered down the steep bank, lowering ourselves by the branches of the trees until we came to the water into which I waded, being followed closely by my two companions.

On gaining the opposite side I clambered up to the base of the bowlder and lowered my lantern to reveal to them the gruesome evidence of the second crime, but the next instant I cried: “Why! It’s gone!” “Gone!” gasped the two men. “Yes. It was here. Look! this is the hole where they buried it! But they evidently returned, and finding it exhumed, they’ve retaken possession of it and carried it away!” As we stood there dumfounded at the disappearance of the body, the Highlander's quick glance caught something, and stooping he picked it up and examined the little object by the aid of his lantern. Within his palm I saw lying a tiny little gold cross, about an inch long, enameled in red, while in the center was a circular miniature of a kneeling saint, an elegant and beautifully executed little trinket which might have adorned a lady's bracelet. "This is a pretty little thing!” remarked the detective. “It may possibly lead us to something. But, Mr. Gregg,” he added, turning tp me, “are you quite certain you left the body here?" “Certain?” I echoed. “Why. look at the hole I made. You don’t think I have any interest in leading you here on a fool’s errand, do you?'” “Not at all.” he said apologetically. "Only the whole affair seems so very inconceivable—l mean that the men. having once got rid of the evidence of their crime, would hardly return to the spot and reobtain possession of it.” "Unless they watched me exhume it. and feared the consequences if it fell into your hands." I suggested. “Of course they might have watched you from behind the trees, and when you had gone they came and carried (t away somewhere else,” he remarked lubiously; "but even if they did, it nust be in this wood. They would never risk carrying a body very far, and here is surely the best place of concealment in the whole country." "The only thing remaining is to search the wood at daylight,” 1 suggested. “If the two men came back here during my absence they may still be on the watch in the vicinity.” “Most probably they are. We must take every precaution,“ he said decisively. At dawn Mackenzie, with four of his

men, made a thorough examination the wood, but although they continued until dusk they discovered nothing, neither was anything heard of the mysterious seafarer and his companion in brown tweeds. I called on Muriel and explained how the body had so suddenly disappeared. whereupon she stared at me pale faced, saying: “The assassins must have watched us! They are aware, then, that we have knowledge of their crime?” “Of course,” I said. "Ah!” she cried hoarsely. “Then we are both in deadly peril—peril of our own lives! These people will hesitate, at nothing. Both you and I are marked down by them, without a doubt. We must both be wary not to fall into any trap they may lay for us.” Her very words seemed an admission that she was aware of the identity of the conspirators, and yet she would give me no clue to them. Next day I accompanied the party over to Glenlea, about five miles distant, and at noon at a spot previously arranged, we found the ladles awaiting us with luncheon spread under the trees. As soon as we approached Muriel came forward quickly, handing me a telegram, saying that it had been sent over by one of my uncle’s grooms at the moment they were leaving tha castle. I tore it open eagerly and read its contents. It wns from Frank Hutcheson in Leghorn, and read: Made Inquiries. Ollnto Santini married your servant Armlda at Italian consulategeneral In London about a year ago. They live MB Albany Road. Camberwell: he is employed waiter Ferrari’s restaurant. Westbourne Grove.—British Consulate, Leghorn. <TO BE CONTINUED.)

DIET FOR THE BRAIN-WORKER

Should Be That Nourishing to the Whole Body, With Special Refers ence to Nervous System. A great deal has been said about the value of certain articles as brain food, and one of the pet theories of popular physiology has been that fish and other substances composed largely of phosphorus are the most appropriate diet for brain-workers. But modern science is emphasizing that the best food for the brain is that which nourishes the whole body, with special reference to the nervous system. Brain power is largely an expression through the nerves of bodily vitality. In discussing this point in a recent treatise. Dr. George M. Beard says that the diet of brain-workers should be of large variety, delicately served, abundantly nutritious, of which fresh meat should be a prominent coo stltuenL In vacations, or wherever it is desired to rest the brain, fish may, to a certain extent, take the place of meat. He says we should select those articles that are most agreeable to our individual tastes and so far as possible we should take our meal amid pleasant social surroundings. In great crises that call for unusual exertion we should rest the stomach, that for the time the brain may work the harder, but the deficiency of nutrition ought always to be supplied in the first interval of repose.

Only Changed One Shoe.

While an East side matron was busily preparing to go to the theater the other afternoon, a gossipy neighbor came to the front door. The woman stopped in the middle of the process of putting on her best shoes and talked to the neighbor for some time. When the neighbor left she looked at the clock and saw she would have to hurry. So she hastily finished dressing and made a dash for the car. She noticed a young man watched her all the way downtown. She searched her coat thoroughly for a stray raveling, but found none. After attending the theater she boarded a car and still noticed that she attracted attention. She followed one girl’s eye and saw that it centered on the bottom of her dress. Looking to discover the cause she found that in her haste she had only changed one of her shoes and on her left she wore a patent kid shoe, while on the other there was a gunmetal calf shoe! —Indianapolis News.

Destructive Starfish.

Clearing Narragansett bay of that voracious enemy of the oyster, clam and scallop, the starfish, is one of the principal recommendations of the commissioners of shell fisheries in the annual report just presented to the general assembly. Many acres of free ground—l7.ooo acres are exempt by law —are described aa only breeding places for the starfish, which during the past year destroyed a million bushels of oysters besides ravaging the beds of clams and scallops. So serious a menace to the shellfish industry is the starfish that the revenue of the state from leased oyster grounds is being affected. The starfish set during June and July. Immense numbers are found upon seaweed. It is estimated that the starfish in one cart load of seaweed are capable of destroying over six million clams tn one week. Raking the seaweed ashore to one way of killing the stars by the million. —Providence Bulletin.

Peanut Industry Large.

Virginia still leads in the production of peamite, with Oklahoma and Texas following. The last statistics show that there were 680,000 »cres in thlx country planted to this product. Curiously enough, Marseilles, France, is the greatest in tie world, owing to the use made of the nut in the production of oil, which substitutes to n great extent, for olive

LOVE IN A FOG

By FRANK M. BICKNELL.

Judson Maxwell always gave something to the blind match seller at the corner —for luck, he said. And Barney O’Keefe, that husky, cheery beggar, always wished his honor good and plenty, and then a power more of it atop of that. Maxwell was lucky in being, well born, in having his share of good looks, and in being able to spare from his prosperous business enough leisure to follow Prudence Hale across the Atlantic. But he had not yet been lucky enough to persuade her to be bis wife. In the person of Albert Pierce, Maxwell had a formidable rival. As a fair-minded man Maxwell would have freely admitted that Pierce was quite as desirable a match for Prudence as he himself was; but as the young lady had steadily refrained from showing a preference for either suitor the two were now in London for the purpose of further urging their respective suits. All efforts at a viva voce declaration having been adroitly baffied by the still noncommittal fair one, they had finally come to the following gentleman’s agreement: Each was to lay his heart, hand and fortune at Prudence’s feet by letter and the two sealed proposals were to be mailed in the same box at the samel time, namely, nine o’clock p. m. Monday, November 25. Now as a matter of fact Miss Prudence was honestly in doubt as to whether she cared more for Maxwell than she did for Pierce. She rather thought—indeed, she felt reasonably sure—she would eventually find her life’s happiness in becoming the wife of one of them, but which? Twice, thrice, she re-read .each letter and strove heroically with her indecison quite in vain. By and by, however, as the fog without thickened, there came to her —curiously enough—the glimmering of an idea. The Hales had taken apartments in Sackville street. Maxwell was staying at a big new hostelry in Northumberland avenue and Pierce at a famous old one in Brook street. It thus happened that the routes -the two young men would have to traverse in reaching her from their hotels were about equally long and also about equally devious. In pursuance of her idea —an idea which might or might not lead to satisfactory results—she called up Maxwell on the telephone. “I have your letter, Jud," she told him, “yours and Bert’s. Listen carefully. You will please leave your hotel this afternoon at three o’clock precisely, and start for this house on foot. Walk the entire distance. I shall telephone similar instructions to Bert. You are to find your way to me through the fog, and the one who arrives first —well, I won’t promise anything now, but leave that for this afternoon —if you don’t both get lost in the fog.” The fog had thickened to a “peasoup” consistency, and vehicular traffic was practically at a standstill when at 3:27 p. m-, the Hale’s parlor maid brought Prudence a card, and announced : “A gentleman to see you, miss.” Prudence drew a long breath and her heart began to beat with rather more than normal rapidity as she took the card and glanced at its inscription. Was she glad or sorry to read the name of Judson Maxwell? Strange though it may seem, she' was not yet sure of herself. She was conscious, however, of wondering that he had been able to get to her so soon, through a fog of almost midnight darkness, and also of dimly fancying that his greater love had served him as a guide. "Prudence!” He appeared at the door evidently in a fever of suspense, then, seeing her alone, he came forward eagerly and took her hands in his. "Prudence,” he repeated, “I am first?” "Yes,” she replied, "you are first;” and now her unruly heart certainly was thumping at a scandalous rate. Out of the dark fog light seemed suddenly to have broken. "Are you—aren’t you—glad?” he asked breathlessly. “I —I —think —perhaps—I—am,” she answered rather haltingly. “Aren’t you sure?” he demanded reproachfully. Gently she withdrew her hands from his clasp, and raising them, put them about his neck, then shyly drew his face down toward her own, now crimsoning with color that appeared to him of divine loveliness. She didn’t say she was sure, but —she didn’t need to. Pierce came about two hours later—he had gone badly astray in the fog—but he arrived in time to offer his congratulations, and to add, handsomely, that as the best man had won the bride he hoped to be "best man” at the wedding. **•••• • “Well, Barney, you brought me the finest kind of luck; you were a friend in need that time If ever there was one.” “Sure, yer honor, ’tls proud an’ glad I am I could help ye, though ’twas nothing at all I done worth mention. With me goin* over the route an’ right past the young teddy’s house twice a day, gettin’ here an’ back ag’in to me own home, ’twas as easy as winkin’.” Yes, Maxwell always gave something to the blind match-seller for luck, and long had Barney reason to remember the most profitable match he had ever had anything to do with negotiating. A '■. * i ■ ■ . ■