Jasper County Democrat, Volume 17, Number 12, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 May 1914 — Page 7

I'hFhVlHil nA Chicago to Northwest, Indianapolis, Cln. clnnati and the South, Louisville and French Lick Springs. RENSSELAER TIME TABLE In Effect May 3, 1914. NORTH BOUND. No. 4 4:59 a. m. No. 36 5:27 a. m. No. 40 . 7:30 a. m. No. 32 ...10:46 a. m. No. 38 3:15 p. m. No. 6 . . 3:44 p. m. No. 30 . 7:06 p. jn. SOUTH BOUND. No. 5 .. . . ........ ... 11 ;05 a. la. No. 37 .. . ...11:20 a. m. No. 33 t 2:01 p. m. N°. 39 6:1,2 p. m. No. 31 . 7:41 p. in. No. 3 .<>..11:10 p. m. No. 35 12:15 a. m.

OFFICIAL DIRECTORY. CITY OFFICERS. Mayor Charles G. Spitler C’erk Charles Morlan Charles M. Sands Attorney Moses Leopold Marshal W. R. Shesler Civil Engineer.. . .W. F. Osborne Fire Chief J. J. Montgomery Fire Warden ....J. J. Montgomery Councilmen. Ist Ward Ray Wood 2nd Ward ...Frank Tobias 3rd Ward Frank King At Large. .Rex Warner, F. Kreslei JUDICIAL. Circuit Judge. .Charles W. Hanley Prosecuting Att’y. .Fred Longwell Terms of Court —Second Monday in February, April, September and November. Four week terms. COUNTY OFFICERS. Clerk Judson H. Perkins Sheriff W. I. Hoover Auditor J. p. Hammond Treasurer A. A. Fell Recorder George Scott Surveyor DeVere Yeoman Coroner W. J. Wright Co. Supt Ernest Lamson ..County Assessor ......J. Q. Lewis Health Officer E. N. Loy COMMISSIONERS. Ist District......W. H. Hershman 2nd District D. S. Makeever 3rd District Charles Welch Commissioners’ Court meets the First Monday of each month. COUNTY BOARD EDUCATION. Trustees Township Wm. Folgar Barkley Charles May Carpenter J. W. Selmer Gillam George Parker ....Hanging Grove W. H. Wortley .....Jordan John Shirer Kankakee Tunis Snip Keener H. W. Wood, Jr., .....Marion George L. Parks Milroy P- Lane -.Newton Isaac Kight Union Aibert * Keene ........... Wheatfield Fred Karch Walker H. J. Kannel Rensselaer James A. Washburn.. .Remington W. O. Nelson .......... Wheatfield E. Lamson, Co. Supt.. .Rensselaer Truant Officer, C. B. Steward, Rensselaer

TRUSTEES’ CARDS. JORDAN TOWNSHIP. The undersigned trustee of Jordan Township attends to official business at his residence on the first and third Wednesdays of. each month. Persons having business with me will pleace govern themselves accordingly. Postoffice address—Rensselaer, Indiana, R-4 W. H. WORTLEY, Trustee; UNION TOWNSHIP. The undersigned Trustee of Union Township attends to official business at his store in Fair Oaks, Ind., on Fridavs of each week. Persons having business with me will please govern themselves accordingly. Postoffice address—Fair Oaks, Ind. ISAAC KIGHT, Trustee. NEWTON TOWNSHIP. The undersigned Trustee of Newton. Township attends to official business at his residence on the First and Third Thursdavs of each month. Persons having' business with me will please govern themselves accordingly. Postoffice address—Rensselaer R-3 E. P. LANE. Trustee.

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NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS Under the postal rules w» are given but a limited time to eecure renewals of subscription, and unless renewals are made within the specified time we must cut the name of the subscriber from our list. -We want to retain all our old subscribers, and to this end we ask you to examine the date on the label of your paper and. If In arr<*nes, call and renew or send lr, your renewal by mail. Unless you <ic this We have no alternative J* the matter but must drop your name from our list at toe 'expj,?' ation of the time limit given by the postal rules to secure s. renewal.

SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—Challis Wrandall is fount murdered in a road house near NeW York. Mrs, Wrandall is summoned from the city and identifies the body. A young woman who accompanied Wrandall to the Inn and subsequently disappeared is suspected. Wrandall, it appears, had led a gay life and neglected his wife. Mrs. Wrandall starts back for New York In an auto during a blinding snow storm. CHAPTER II —On the way she meets a young woman in the road who proves to be the woman who killed Wrandall. Feeling that the girl had done her a service in ridding her of the man who, though she loved him deeply, had caused her great sorrow, Mrs. Wrandall determines to shield her and takes her to her own home. CHAPTER lll—Mrs. Wrandall hears the story of Hetty Castleton’s life, exS 6 ?.* Portion that relates to Wranoall. The story of the tragedy she forbids the girl ever to tell her. She offers Hetty a home, friendship and security from peril on account of the tragedy. / <'!l ' PTER TV—Mrs. Sara Wrandall and r Uj ata nd the funeral of. Challis Wrani' P f parents. Sara na<i always been treated as an interloper by the snobbish Wrandall family, but the tragedy seems to draw them closer together. CHAPTER V—Sara Wrandall and Hetty return to Now York after an absence of a year in Europe. Leslie Wrandall. brother of Challis, makes himself useful to Sara and becomes greatly interested in Hetty. (Continuation of Chapter VI.) , The girl stared. "For me, Watson?” "Yes, miss.’’ Hetty had risen, visibly agitated. “What shall I say to him, Sara?” she cried. “Apparently it is he who has something to say to you,” said the other, still smiling. “Wait and see what it is. Please don’t neglest to say that we’d like to have him over Sunday.” “A box of flowers has just come up from the station for you, miss,” said Watson. Hetty was very white as she passed into the house. Mrs. Wrandall resumed her conteqiplation of the fogscreened sound. “Shall r fetch you a wrap, ma’am?” asked Watson, hesitating. “Lam coming in, Watson. Open the box of flowers for Miss Castleton. Is there a fire in the library?” “Yes, Mrs. Wrandall.” ‘ Mr. Leslie will be out on Saturday. Tell Mrs. Conkling.” “The evening train, ma’am?” “No. The eleven-thirty. He will be here for luncheon.” When Hetty hurried intothe library

“Good God, Sara!" Cried the Giri in Horror.

a few minutes later, her manner was that of one considerably disturbed by something that has transpired almost on the moment. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were reflectors or a no uncertain uistfess or mind. Mrs. Wrandall was standing before the flreplace, an exquisite figure in the slinky black evening gown which she affected in these days. Her perfectly modelled neck and gleamed like pink marble in the, reflected glow of the burning logs. She wore no jewelry, but there was a single white rose in her dark hair, where it had been placed by the whimsical Hetty an hour earlier as they left the dinner table. “He is coming out on the eleventhirty, Sara,” said the girl nervously, "unless you will send the motor in for him. The body of his car is being changed and it’s in the shop. He must have been jesting when he said he would pay for the petrol—l should have said gasoline.” Sara laughed. "You will know him better, my dear,” she said. “Leslie is very light-hearted." “He suggested bringing a friend,” went on Hetty hurriedly. “A Mr. Booth, the portrait painter.” “I met him in Italy. He is charming. You will like him, too, Hetty.” The emphasis did not escape notice. “It seems that be is spending a fortnight in the village, this Mr. Booth, painting spring lambs for rest and recreation, Mr. Leslie says.”

The Hollow of Her Hand

by George Barr M c Cutcheon.

Author of “GraustarkJ “Truxton King,"etc. ILLUSTRATIONS by ELLSWORTH TOUNG X GEORGE BARR MCCUTCHEfiM COPYRIGHT.I9I2.BY r —JXIDD.MEAD COMPANY

“Then he is at our very gates,” said Sara, looking up suddenly. “I w’onder if he can be the man I saw yesterday at the bridge,” mused Hetty. “Is he tall?” “I really can’t say. He’s rather vague. It was six or seven years ago." “It was left that Mr. Wrandall is to come out ®n the eleven-thirty,” explained Hetty. "I thought you wouldn’t like sending either of the motors in.” “And Mr. Booth?” “W 6 are to send, for him after Mr. Wrandall arrives. He is stopping at the inn, wherever that may -be.” “Poor fellow!” sighed Sara, with a grimace. “I am sure he will like us immensely if he has been stopping at the inn.” Hetty stood staring down at the blazing logs for a full minute before giving expression to the thought that troubled her. “Sara,” she said, meeting her friend’s eyes with a steady light in her own, "why did Mr. Wrandall ask for me instead of you? It is you he is coming to visit, not me. It is your house. Why should—” “My dear,” said Sara glibly, “I am merely his sister-in-law. It wouldn’t be necessary to ask me if he should come. He knows he is welcome.” “Then why should he feel called upon to—” "Some men like to telephone, I suppose,” said the other coolly. “I wonder if you will ever understand how I feel about—about certain things, Sara,” “What, for instance?” "Well, his very evident interest in me,” cried the girl hotly. “He sends me flowers —this is the second box this week —and he is so kind, so very friendly, Sara, that I can’t bear it —I really can’t.” Mrs. Wrandall stared at her. “You can’t very well send him about his business,” she said, “unless he becomes more than friendly.. Now, can you?”

“But it seems so—so horrible, so beastly,” groaned the girl. Sara faced her squarely. "See here, Hetty,” she said levelly, “we have made our bed, you and I. We must lie in it—together. If Leslie Wrandall chooses to fall in love with you, that is his affair, not ours. We must face every condition. In plain words, we must play the game.” “What could be more appalling than to have him fall in love with me?” “The other way ’round would be more dramatic, I should say.” “Good God Sara!” cried the girl in horror. “How can you even speak of such a thing?” “After all, why shouldn’t—” began Sara, but stopped in the middle of her suggestion, with the result that it had its full effect without being uttered in -so many cold-blooded words. The girl shuddered. I wish, Sara, you would let me unburden myself completely to you,” she pleaded, seizing her friend’s hands. “You have forbidden me—” Sara jerked her hands away. Her eyes flashed. “I do not want to hear it,” she cried fiercely. "Never, never! Do you understand? It is your secret. I will not share it with you. I should hate you if I knew everything. As it is, I love you because you are a woman who suffered at the hand of one who made me suffer. There is Doming more to say. Don’t bring up the subject again. I want to be your friend for ever, noUyour confidante. There is a distinction. You may be able to see how very marked it is in our case. Hetty. What one does not know, seldom hurts.” "But I want to justify myself—” “It isn’t necessary,” cut in the other so peremptorily that the girl’s eyes spread into a look of anger. Whereupon Sara Wrandall threw her arm about her and drew her down beside her in the chaise-lounge. "I didn’t mean to be harsh,” she cried. “We ntust not speak of the past, that’s all. The future is not likely to hurt us, dear. Let us avoid the past.” “The future!” sighed the girl, staring blankly before her. "To appreciate what it is to be,” said the other, “you have but to think of what it might have been.” “I know,’" said Hetty, in a low voice. “And yet I sometimes wonder if—” Sara interrupted. ( ‘You are paying me, dear,- instead of the law,” she said gently. “I, am not a harsh creditor, am I?” “My life belongs to you. I give it cheerfully, even gladly.” "So you have said before. Well, if it belongs to me, you might at least permit me to develop it as I would any other possession. 1 take it as an investment. It will probably fluctuate.” “Now you 'are jesting!” "Perhaps,” said Sara laconically. The hext morning Hetty set forth for her accustomed tramp over the roads that wound through the estateSara, the American, dawdled at home,

resenting the chill spring drizzle did not in the least discourage the Englishwoman. She came to the bridge by the mill, long since deserted and now a thing of ruin and decay. A man in knickerbockers stood leaning against the rail, idly gazing down at the trickling stream below. The brier pipe that formed the circuit between hand and lipe sent up soft blue coils to float away on the drizzle. She passed behind him, with a single furtive, curious glance at his handsome, undisturbed profile, and In that glance recognized him as the man she had seen the day before. hen she was a dozen rods away, the tall man turned his face from the stream and sent after her the longrestrained look. There was something akin to cautiousness in look of his, as if he were afraid that she might turn her head suddenly and catch him at it. Something began stirring in his heart, the nameless something that awakens when least expected. He felt the subtle, sweet femininity of her as she passed. It lingered with him as he looked. She turned the bend In the road a hundred yards away. For many minutes he studied the stream below without really seeing it. Then he straightened up, knocked the ashes from his pipe, and set off slowly In her wake, although he had been walking in quite the opposite direction ; w hen he came to the bridge—and on u, mission of some consequence, too. There was the chance that he would meet'her coming back. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

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The Last Shot In a Feud

By F. A. MITCHEL

A girl about seventeen years old, in calico dress, sunbonnet and cowhide boots, was walking through a wood in Kentucky on her way to a spring for water when, making a short cut in a bend in the path, she came upon a man asleep. He was young, but there was ,tl hunted look on his face that made him look older. There was a feud of long standing between the Griggses and the Backuses, and a few days before Abel Griggs had been shot and killed by Josh Backus. Since the killing all the Griggses had been looking for Josh in order to cut another notch on their rifles to make up for the latest Backus notch, said notches denoting the number killed. The girl was Mahulda Griggs, and she looked down on Josh Backus. He had been driven by a cordon of Griggs’ men, who were closing in on him, to the wood near Malm Ida’s home. Hl knew there was no escape for him and had thrown himself on the grass in despair. Having been long without food or Sleep he had fallen into a slumber. He awoke with a start and saw Ma huida looking down on him. Each knew who the other was, though they had never met before. Josh sat up and, handing his gun stock foremost to Mahulda, said huskily: ’ ' “You’re a Griggs, 1 reckon, and I might as well own up that Tm Josh Backus as killed Abel Griggs. I'm sure to bo taken and shot. I'd rut her be killed by you than any. of the Griggs meh, and I’ll be obleeged to you if you'll put a bullet into me where it will kill me quickest." The girl took the gun. “Reckon I ort to, kill ypu,” she said, “seein’ you killed one o’ the best of us Griggs people.’’ “Put the ball thar,” said the other, rising to his feet and tapping his heart with his finger. "What did yo’ kill Abel fo’?” ’’To match the killin' of Jim Backus.” “Reckon you’ll be killed to match tlie killin’ o’ Abel, and then another Griggs ’ll be killed to match the killin’ o’ yo’.” “That's the way of it. Come, do the shootin'. Like enough, - some one’ll come along.” “1 don’t want to kill yo’,” said the girl, bringing the gun to her shoulder. “It’s the best thing yo’ kin do fo’ me.” She aimed at him, then lowered the gun.” “I inought hide yo’.” j i “Hide me! You, a Griggs, hide a Backus!” “Reckon." i “Es your people would find it out they'd kill yo’ fo’ doin' of it " ; r “Sartin." “Well, wh.-tl yo* goin’ to do?” “Hide yo', I reckon." lie stepped up to her. tool: her hand in his and looked intently into her eyes, where he s,:w a struggle between pity and self siferifi'v on I lie <>ne hand end revenge and possible death for-herself on ilk* other. And he saw, too, tlie moment when the decision came. She took off her-sunbonnet and handedrit to him, then divCstcd herself of her dress, which she also gave to him. He understood and put them on. When lie was iit her outer garments she put ou his woolen shirt, trousers and hat.

."TO’ go flown the path to the spring,” she said.. “It’s on the edge o’ the clearin’ what yo’ Rin see across, Es yo’ don’t see nary one go over. Es yo’re in danger I’ll show myself till yo’ git cl’ar of ’em.” “But they’ll shoot yo' so me.” “Reckon not. Es they do they'll have to hit me.” “Mayn't I have a kiss befo’ 1 go?” he asked with a trembling voice. “Reckon." She received the kiss passively; then they parted to go in different directions, the man taking the bucket, the girl the gun. When he reached the spring he filled the bucket, at the same time casting his eye over the clearing. He knew that one of the cordon of Griggses was not far away; but, seeing no one, he started across. He hadn’t gone far before he heard a voice: "Hello thar! Yo’ Mahuldy! Whar yo’ goin'?" ’ He kept on without replying. Pres ently he heard tlie same voice say, "Mahuldy, es that’s yo’, yo’ come yore or I’U shoot at yo’!”

IH’li iiiiilllliill 1111 ’ ' I toi imiM J 11, Mil “ Here comes an Indian —the machine that evolved motorcycle electricity! 99 Of all departures made by the Indian for motorcycle development, its 1914 electrical equipment has received the readiest and most extensive recognition both in America'and abroad. Behind this success is n story of more than twelve months’ engineering endeavor research deliberation selection test—and costly experimentation, before the Engineering Department stamped its final O.K. on every minute mechanism and made this announcement: &ndian Motocycle for 1914 — all standard models equipped with electric heed light, electric tad light, electric signal and two sets of high amperage storage batteries. Die Indian electric lighting system, especially, qualifies as the most advanced mode of illumination today for the'motorcycle. It has been proVen at all the cardinal points : —powerfulness —economy —convenience reliability accident resistance —wear Each battery is ample for 750 miles of night riding— cost of recharging is very small. The total electrical mechanism is protected against vibration and shock by the Cradle Spring Frame and Fork-devices which play a large part in motorcycle electricity as-evolved by the Indian. We are ready to demonstrate the electrically-equipped Indian to you. Ip 14 Catalog Ready. E. M. HONAN, Agent, Rensselaer, Indiana

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Backus kept on without reply. Thea suddenly he saw a sun flash on a rifle barrel, and for a moment he hesitated. Then came the rifle’s crack, but no bullet came near him. He shuddered, for he believed that Mahulda had shown herself and had received the fire. Hearing no further sound, he ran t« the wood beyond the clearing. The Griggses, who had tired supposedly at Backus and seen him fall, ran up to him There lay Mahulda. pale and bleeding. >• Quite likely the bullet that hit her saved her lire. Her own people could not kill her, and the sacrifice she had made tilled their hearts with compassion. When she recovered a meeting was called among the Griggses, and Mahulda was sent to tlie Rackuses with a proposition to end the feud. There she met Abel Backus, who had little difficulty—in persuading his people to agree so drop the killing. Some months later a mingling of Griggses and Back Uses celebrated the wedding of Josh Backus and Mahulda Griggs, f