Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 164, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 11 July 1916 — Page 2

The Red Mirage

A Story of the French Legion in Algiers

SYNOPSIS. When Sylvia Omney. a beautiful En<hab girl, returns from a search tn Algiers Tor her missing brother, her lover, Richard Farquhar, finds she has fallen in love ■with Captain Arnaud of the Foreign OLeglon. In Captain Sower’s room Farquhar gets deliberately drunk, but when young Preston loses all his money to Lowe, a shady character, Farquhar forces Sower to have Preston's I. O. U’s returned to him. Farquhar Is helped to his rooms by Gabrielle Smith. Sower demands an apology. Refused, he forces Farquhar to resign his commission In return for possession of Farquhar's father's written confession that he had murdered Sower’s father. Gabrielle saves Farquhar from suicide.

Thoro aro types of women who drive men to wild deeds —good women, too. But there Is about them that quality which fires men’s minds. We don’t know much about th© laws of heredity, but it seems certain that the child of such a woman, whose husband committed murder, would be a sort of smoldering volcano.

CHAPTER IV. Mrs. Farquhar Explains. Mrs. Farquhar ran down the stairs to her son’s library. It was a neglected room, which he only used on rare occasions. The old weapons hanging on the walls had belonged to his father, and the whole atmosphere seemed Impregnated with the spirit of a dead, if powerful, personality. Mrs. Farquhar closed the door with a chuckle of triumphant malice. "They’re gone at last,” she said. “I assure you there isn’t a more surprised woman in England than dear Sylvia. She came expecting to find me with ashes on my head instead of a wig, and I laUghed In her face.” Richard Farquhar turned from the window •where he had been standing, and her eyes grew suddenly grave. “My dear, you’re not breaking your heart over her, are you?”' “No.” He came slowly Into the room. ■“I might have done so, but fate has given me something else to come to grief over. I’ve had a quarrel with Cower."

She said nothing, and he went on gently: “He was dangerous. I have resigned my commission. That was his price for my father’s name.” Still Mrs. Farquhar did not speak. She sat down in the great leather chair by the fireplace, and the wild, childish horror in her eyes touched him to an amazed pity. “Mother, I don’t •want to hurt you, but you must I have a right now to know.” “Yes, yes.” She put her hands to her white-powdered cheeks. “Yes, yes, of course. There isn’t much. It was in this room, Richard. He came home one night and said he had killed a man. I—it was awful! —he had no blood on him, Richard, but one felt he had blood all over; it was in his eyes, and— He said it was all right—no one could touch him, but he had to go— for always. And then he cursed me—and then he fell on his knees — here— by this chair—and buried his face in my lap—and cried. It was awful, Richard —a man like that —to cry.” Her voice cracked, and became thin and broken like an old, worn-out Instrument. ‘tThen he went away—and one day a man came to me and told me he was dead —but I never knew. I always believed I should know.”

He knelt beside her, and, taking her hands between his own, soothed them like a child’s. There was something in the action curiously at variance with his expression, which was hard and reckless. “But Sower —” She turned her faded, frightened eyes to him. “I never understood that, Richard; I never understood why he shielded us. It frightened me. Only once he spoke of -i|. He said he would never make use of the power—unless we made him. But it was his father who had been —murdered. It wasn’t natural, Richard, it ■wasn’t natural that he should forgive.” “No,” he agreed sternly; and then after a moment’s silence: “And my father —was there no reason —had he no explanation?” With a sudden vigorous movement she freed herself and stood up, her clenched. Jeweled hands pressed against her breast, her eyes grown suddenly electric. "I was the excuse,” she said fiercely. “And I was excuse enough.” “You?" He also had- risen, and as •they stood there facing each other, the subtle resemblance of temperament seemed to blaze through their features like some Inward fire, changing all physical dissimilarity to a convincing likeness. “Yes. You don’t understand, Richard—you are too young. But it is women Uke myself who drive men to such things. Weare educated to be professional vampires, and the more brains we have the more deadly we are.” She gave a short, Ironical laugh “Don’t you want to curse mo?" “No," ho answered simply “I don’t corse you any more than I believe my father does if he is alive . If he is

By I. A. R. WYLIE

alive I am going to find him. and if I find him, I shall tell him that I honor and love him. There was a wrong to be righted, and he did his best.” He went to the door, and there turned and looked at her. “If I find my father, is there any message that I may give him—from you?” he asked. “Tell him that that night he won me,” she said with defiance. “Tell him that in the brief interludes when I dare to think I know that I love him. Tell him that.” Richard Farquhar bowed and went out Half an hour later he reached his club. Captain Sower, he'was Informed, had just left with Mr. Preston and a strange gentleman. Whereupon Farquhar turned in his tracks and drove straight to Preston’s lodgings. His purpose was now twofold, and fired by a white-hot fury of Indignation. In the “strange gentleman” he had recognized Lowe, and Preston was a fool with a following of other fools. For in that moment Farquhar had ceased to be a man overshadowed by his own black destiny. He was once more and for the last time the officer upon whose shoulders rested the honor of a regiment, the great unity which he served. It was a curious group of men that confronted him as he hesitated on the threshold. That which he had expected was not there. Evidently a card game had been in full swing but had been violently interrupted. The cards lay scattered on the square, green table beneath the electric light, and there was a pile of untouched, apparently forgotten money. Both Sower and Lowe were present, together with Preston and one other man, whom Farquhar did not recognize. They stood far apart from one another, as though divided by some hidden antagonism—Sower by the fireside, where he maintained an attitude of easy goodnature, touched indefinably with regret; Lowe and the stranger kept to the shadow on opposite sides of the room. Preston was standing next the table, his hands resting clenched on the polished edge, his boyish face gray and drawn-looking. As Farquhar saw him the spirit of tension became definite, an almost visible occupant of the quiet room. And yet it was Arnaud’s face which Farquhar saw first and last Here was Sylvia Omney’s future —a white-lipped man, whom some

“He Came Here One Night and Said He Had Killed a Man.”

violent emotion had made temporarily old and haggard. He had been seated by the card-table, but now looked up, and for an instant they watched each other in open hatred and distrust. Farquhar came forward, and his eyes passed swiftly from one silent figure to the other. And again it was Arnaud’s face which fascinated him. “What has happened?” he asked. No one answered for a moment. Preston drew himself up. “We were having a quiet game,” he said, as though each word were torn from him by force—“Arnaud, Lowe and I—when this gentleman and Captain Sower arrived. It seems there’s been a leakage somewhere. I can’t explain. I hardly understand myself. Mr. Forth, perhaps you’ll be good enough—” The man addressed bowed. His clean-shaven face was expressionless. “The duplicate plans of Captain Sower’s new aero-gun have been stolen,” he said tersely. “They were in Captain Sower’s possession, and he was Instructed to give full information to the younger officers under his command. Various incidents led him to believe that the secret had not been properly kept. He put the matter into my bands, and I’ve followed the clue he gave me—here.” He paused, stoically unconscious of the almost theatrical tension which his silence caused. Farquhar glanced about him. His own pulses were beating faster.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

“Well?” It was Lowe wh© had broken the intolerable silence. He bad never for an instant lifted bls eyes from the f&ce of the man seated beneath the light, and now be took a step forward as though to meet the answer. Arnaud looked up with a twitching smile. He put his band to his breast pocket and drew out a thin sheaf of transparent paper and laid it on the table. “Le voila!" he said. For a full minute no one spoke a word. Each man’s attention Was centered on the silent, deadly witness against the honor of one among them. Then Farquhar looked up and met Arnaud’s eyes. He read there more than mere bravado —a nerveless, hideous fear, the panic-stricken appeal of a man who has trembled for days on the brink of ruin aiid feels the ground slipping beneath him. And this was Sylvia’s Omney’s future! Farquhar turned Involuntarily to Lowe. A faint, ironical smile played around the man’s hard mouth. It was the merest shadow, but it bespoke a purpose triumphantly accomplished. “Captain Arnaud has saved a great deal of trouble," he observed brutally. Still Arnaud did not move. His white hands lay paralyzed In front of him, and his eyes had become blank and stupid looking, like those of an animal which is being done to death. Richard Farquhar took a step nearer, and, picking up the papers, held thqpf as though weighing them. “Wait a minute. Don’t be in such a hurry. I take the responsibility for this business.” They stared at him. He was still weighing the papers and smiling rather wryly. He was thinking of Sylvia at that moment, and Preston’s stricken cry of horror sounded dull and far off. “You! What do you mean, Farquhar? I won’t believe it It’s intolerable —Impossible. Say you didn’t — didn’t sell them, Farquhar!” “Captain Arnaud will explain,” was the answer. Arnaud rose slowly to his feet. He was staring across the table into Farquhar’s face, stupidly, incredulously, and when he spoke it was in the monotone of a man under a hypnotic command.

“They were offered me,” he said. “Lieutenant Farquhar offered them to me. I disliked it; but I am a good Frenchman, and the temptation was too great. I bought them. I can only add—that I regret—” He stammered and broke off with a real helplessness. Farquhar turned from him to Sower. The latter’s features had assumed a mask of ironical acceptance. “In that case there is no more to be said,” he observed coolly. “We can now credit Mr. Farquhar’s statement.” Farquhar bowed. “Thank you,” he said simply. Preston crossed the room and flung open the door with a cool deliberation. “Good-by, Farquhar. I hope you have decency enough left to know what to do.” For a short space which seemed an eternity Farquhar hesitated. The scorn and bitterness in the boy’s eyes had stung him. An hour ago he had been half a herb, and now was nothing, beneath even contempt Then he, too, bowed. “I resigned my commission this morning.” “God be thanked for that.”

He went down the narrow stairs into the street. Someone touched him on the arm. He turned and saw Arnaud —a new Arnaud, grown calm, almost indifferent. He was smoking, and the faint reflection from his cigar lighted up the white composure of his features. “I want to speak to you for a moment,” be said. "I want to ask you—why you did that?” Farquhar made no answer,. and he went on deliberately: “You are not mad. You do not love me. You have good reason to hate me.”

“You are to be Miss Omney’s husband. My feelings toward her have not changed. I considered it my business to defend you. The sacrifice was not so great as it may seem. I had lost practically everything before. What remained I chose to lose in my own way.” “It wasn’t all for myself. I was pretty desperate and not so cool when Lowe came with his second offer. You can guess what that was. Compared to betraying 'one’s own country it seemed clean business. And I let you bear the brunt How does that strike you?” “Panic—the instinct of self-preser-vation. I counted on it The future will be different”

“How do you mean?” Farquhar turned round and faced him with deliberate significance. “It must be,” he said. “As for me, I am done for. Though no one will speak of what has happened, the fact remains. Miss Omney believes in you aindsodo I—to some extent I am sufficiently In sympathy with you to credit the sincerity of your feelings. Am I Justified?” Arnaud met his eyes full. “You are.” “Well, that is what I believe. I hold you in pawn, Captain Arnaud, for your wife’s happiness. If you fail her, if you risk her faith in you a second time, I shall not hesitate to act” He lifted his hat ceremoniously and passed along the narrow street to the great thoroughfare beyond.

Will Farquhar’s influence over Arnaud be strong enough to hold the Frenchman in the straight and narrow path and cause him to be a good husband to Sylvia? —T 1 (TO BE

MOMENTOUS DECISIONS

The momentous decisions that each man must make for himself: When to put on his winter underwear. When to take it off. Whether or not he’d look well in Knickerbockers. Just what the trouble with his game is. Whether or not to learn the words to “The Star-Spangled Banner” or to let it go at “Oh! say can you see tra-laia-la-la —” Whether or not to introduce Boggs to his wife. Whether or not to admit he’s getting bald. What percentage of the bill to tip the waiter. Whether or not to carry a stick outside o&New York. WhaJ operation to select from the assortment offered by the physician. 9 Whether to give his wife one-fifth, one-third or one-half of the amount she asks for.-—Life.

GOOD RESOLUTIONS

Here are a few good resolu- ■ tions for you to make. _ « Be just toward all. Paddle your own canoe. < 4 Make friends of many. « < Fight your own battles. Have few bosom friends. • Settle your own disputes. ; Bear malice toward none. \ Make an enemy of no one. ; Ask few favors of anyone. ; Play fair and square always. ; Be big-minded in little things. , * 4 Be kind and gracious to every- ‘ one. ; Carve your own road to sue- ’ cess. Do a kind act every day in the ■ year.

PROVERBS AND PHRASES

Much talent is often lost for want of a little courage.—-George Eliot. A man used to vicissitudes is not easily dejected.—Samuel Johnson. Ground not upon dreams; you know they are ever contrary.—Thos. Middleton. In doing what we ought, we deserve no praise, because it is our duty. —St. Augustine. The heart is a small thing, but desireth great matters. It is not sufficient for a kite’s dinner, yet the whole world is not sufficient for it. —Quarles.

JABS AT JOYRIDERS

Any striking color is appropriate for a gasoline buggy. The wings of riches make a flying machine look like 30 cents. Trouble Seldom fails to show up when a man goes after it in an automobile. Right occasionally gets the best of might, just as a little runabout sometimes takes a fall out of a big touring car.

BRIEF DECISIONS

Success is only relative —usually a distant one. By the time we make up our mind to do something unconventional it has become conventional. Where censorship can keep the public in blissful ignorance it is folly to allow authentic dispatches to come through.—Judge

SOME POSTSCRIPTS

Japanese make an imitation silk from New Zealand hemp. The number of trunk telephone lines in the United Kingdom has trebled in ten years. Butter will soften tar stains on clothing and facilitate their removal by washing. The German village of Remborn has a linden tree which is said to be more than 1,200 years old. About 4,200 species of plants are used, for commercial purposes, 420 of in perfumes. . ,

NOTES ON POPULAR SCIENCE

Some Items of Interest on Grave Subjects, With a Smile in Each One of Them. An extremely simple device for removing ordinary stains from the hands is a sink, cake of soap, hot water and towel. Few people know this, but it is true, that you may always secure a seat in a street car by going early to the car barn and startipg out with the car. Even the most skilled musicians have been unable to play Annie Laurie on a shoe horn. Ten pounds of lead molded to fit inside your hat will prevent It from blowing off at windy street corners. One teaspoonful of blasting powder smoked in a pipe will almost instantly remove the offensive strong odor. No steamships have put in at Tombstone, Ariz., since America was discovered. Ordinary white cotton thread is so pliable that it may be wound around a spool without breaking. There is enough wood in a cord of wooden toothpicks to make a pile eight feet long, four feet high and four feet wide.

It has been discovered that the widest part of the Atlantic ocean lies between the points of lapd farthest apart. t Three thousand miles of safety razor blades placed in a row would reach from New York to San Francisco. If they were placed in the opposite direction they would reach from San Francisco to New York. The highest-priced motion picture known was the Mona Lisa. Scientists have proved that ordinary malleable iron, makes better nails than watermelon seeds. A sure test for eggs—place the egg on a car track. If the car is derailed but the egg uninjured the egg is probably indigestible. Three tablespoonfuls of salt added to a glassW water will make it quite unfit for drinking purposes. If a pin refuses to enter the cloth, although you push it firmly, but it penetrates your thumb, examine it closely. The chances are you were trying to push it head first. The dark spots on blotting paper are frequently caused by the absorption of ordinary writing ink. For swallowing purposes an open safety pin is 11% times more dangerous than a gum drop. Never sit on a third rail when wearing wet overalls.

Submarine Booms Trade.

In these days with many visitors rambling around, the telescope man on the Battery sea wall does a land office business. Possibly it is his description of the remarkable sights to be seen by means of his long glass that is responsible for the trade. Some of them are described on a neat canvas sign as follows: “This telescope shows Statue of Liberty, 1% miles away and 305 feet high. Also cannon, forts and soldiers on Governor’s island. Liners and ships may be sebn, including captains and passengers. Views 5 cents.” Perhaps there is in the last sentence a subtle suggestion that the liners may be submarined; In other words, “take a last look at your friends.”. At any rate he never fails to call attention to passing liners which mount guns for defense against submarine guns, demanding that passersby take this chance of getting a good look at the guns mounted on the stern. This is a never-failing attraction nowadays and means a fresh shower of nickels for the telescope man.—New York Times.

Dry Plates.

On a recent evening during a rainstorm, and while the downpour was heaviest, a man dropped one of numerous packages he was carrying, just as he crossed Meridian street, near the public library, and passed on, unaware of his loss. The incident was witnessed by many persons who had sought the shelter in the entrance to the library, and by many others watching the storm from the windows of the Board of Trade building. For fully ten minutes it lay in the rain, seemingly an object of much curiosity to those who had seen it tumble from the man’s arms. Then a young man in the Board of Trade building, urged on by his fellow-employees, braved the torrent, and snapping the package under his coat, rushed back to his office, the others crowding round him while he hastily removed the rain-soaked cover to inspect his find. This is what he read: “Photographic dry plates. Keep in dry place.” —Indianapolis News.

On the Modern Woman.

Justus Miles Forman, in his three last novels, may be said to have drawn three sides of the modern woman. In “The Opening Door” the heroine found out a way to serve “the cause” when she discovered -the role of militant suffragist was not for her; in “The Blind Spot” a rich New York girl became interested in schemes for civic betterment, and in his last novel, “The Twin Sisters,” the girl shows that she cares for other things as well. “I. want to be petted and flattered,” she says, “and, put upon a little pedestal. I want to be told that I am pretty and that I inspire my man to do whatever it is he does better than he did It before. I want —children . . . But there’s something, more —something that has been slowly developing in us women through the long climb upward from savagery. We’ve grown another want —at least, I think we have; We’ve grown a desire to xpe our brains.”

OLD ITALIAN TOWN

VICENZA OF IMPORTANCE IN i time OFJHE romans. Ito Achievements In Arms Rank S©o©nd to Its Architectural Splendors Once Capital of a Lombard Duchy. Closely massed on both banks of the small Bacchiglioue river, Vicenza with an urban population of 35,UW, has been an important town of northern Italy since the early Roman days, when it was known as Vicetia. It has not played a thrilling role in , Italian history, however, but is noted rather for its architectural splendor than tor its achievements in arms. The surrounding plain, whose luxuriant mulberry trees, with their armies of silk worms, so soon may be supplanted by the cypress fronds of sorrow over countless soldiers’ graves, extend to the north through Thieue and Schio, two manufacturing towns in the Leogra valley, and to the east as far as Venice, 40 miles distant. Sixteen miles to the west, beyond the Berici mountains, lies Verona, with its many Shakespearean associations. Beautiful villas and blossoming fields are a feature of this landscape now overcast with the shadow of invading Austrians. Vicenza’s share in the history-mak-ing of the early middle ages was as a capital of a Lombard duchy. It was one of the cities which farmed the Lombard league in the twelfth century, opposing Frederick Barbarossa during the several campaigns, whereby he attempted to re-etablish the W estern empire on a Charlemagne scale. In 1236 the city was stormed and pillaged by the Sicilian emperor, Frederick 11, a catastrophe which the inhabitants w r ere able to bear with more equanimity after this ruler’s overwhelming defeat before the walls of Parma, when his imperial crown was placed in mockery on the head of a hunchback beggar, who was given a “triumphal entry” into the victorious town. Early in the fourteenth century Vicenza asserted and secured its independence, from Padua, but a hundred years later it came under the extensive sway of Venice. The most distinguished name in Vicenza’s hall of, fame is that of one of the greatest architects of the Italian renaissance, Andrea Palladio, who broke away from the excessively ornate style of his contemporaries and turned, perhaps, too reverently to the simple, stately standards of ancient Rome. His handiwork is preeminently dominant in his birthplace, so much so, in fact, that a famous American novelist has complained that “the cold hand of that friend of virtuous poverty in architecture lies heavy upon his native city.” One of the most interesting structures designed by him is the immense Olimpico theater, modeled after the ancient theaters, and dedicated in 1584. Another great artist of Vicenza was the precocious peasant boy Mantegna, who left his flock of sheep at the age of eleven in order to become a great painter under the patronage of the unique Squarclone, a tailor famous both as art connoisseur and teacher. The stiffness of Mantegna’s draperies is said to be accounted for by his custom of drawing from models clad in paper or in gummed fabrics. As an engraver Mantegna’s fame is assured by his plate, entitled “Entombment,” said to have had 'a greater influence on art than any other ever executed, for its composition was adopted by Raphael, Holbein and Durer.

How London Grew.

Britain’s great empire has grown just as the great city of London grew. “You ride on a bus from Hampstead to the Strand, and you pass at least four High streets, each once the main thoroughfare of a former village, says Samuel P. Orth in the Imperial Impulse. “London is only a fortuitous collection of villages. It was never planned, it could not be planned. It has no community of interest save trade. It was never governed as a municipality. “For years each parish had its own government; today it is governed by a county council. It is an amorphous aggregation of hovels, shops and palaces, with no limits or plan to its spreading. “Like a terrible Brobdingnagian ameba, it pushes its tentacles hither and thither, prompted only by the instinct for food.”

Where He Would Be Useful.

After many efforts the aspiring Singer had managed to get permission to give a trial performance at the local music hall. The house was full, and he warbled in his sweetest tones. Everything seemed roseate until suddenly a hoarse voice came from the side of the stage. “Here, you come off I” ordered the stage manager. “Can’t you see you’re emptying the house?” “Er—l don’t seem to be a success, then?” said the amateur, timorously. “Success I , Huh 1” snorted the manager, angrily. “At clearing them out you’re the most successful chap I ever met. Now, for goodness’ sake, go and sing outside and drive ’em in again 1”

Business and Pleasure.

“Do you think a man ought to let pleasure interfere with business?” _ “Certainly not,” replied Mr. Dustin Stax. “Anybody who enjoys business as much as I do couldn’t find any pleasure to equal It.”