Hammond Times, Volume 2, Number 109, Hammond, Lake County, 24 October 1907 — Page 3

Thursday, October 24, 1907.

THE LAKE COUNTY TIMES 3

SIM WLZCQ7T CHAPTER 1. A Dangerous Errand. V city of hills with a fringe of ;

houses crowning tha lower heights; j publicity we can get. Here we are." half-mountains rising bare In the j in another moment we were in a background and becoming real moun- j lumbering coach, and were whirling tains as they stretched away in the ; over the rough pavement, through a distance to right and left; a confused I confusing maze of streets, past long mass of buildings coming to the j rows of dingy, ugly buildings, to the water's edge on the flat; a forest of j hotel. masts, shtps swinging In the stream, J "a. room for the night," ordered and the streaked, yellow, gray-green j Henry, as we entered the hotel ofwater of the bay taking a cold light fice and Baiuteri the clerk, from the setting sun as it struggled , "Your brother will sleep with you?" through the wisps of fog that flut- lnaulred the clerk.

tered above the serrated sky-line of the city these were my first impressions of San Francisco. The wind blew fresh and chill from the west with the damp and salt of

tae I'acmc Heavy upon it, as I j We won-t need this again," said breasted it from the forward deck of Henry, tossing the key on the buthe ferry steamer, El Capitan. As I reau a3 we left. "Or no, on second drank in the air and was silent with thought," he continued, "its just as admiration of the beautiful panerama , well to leave the door locked. There that was spread before me, my com- ' might be some inquisitive callers." panion touched me on the arm. j And we betook ourselves to a hasty "Come into my cabin," he said. 1 meal that was not of a nature to "You'll be one of those fellows who j raise my opinion of San Francisco, can't come to San Francisco without j "Are you through?" asked my comcatching his death of cold, and then ' panion, as I shook my head over a lays it on to the climate instead of melancholy piece of pie, and laid down his own lack of common sense. Come, ! my fork. "Well, take your bag. This I can't spare you, now I've got you ; door look pleasant and say nothing."

here at last. I wouldn't lose you for a million dollars." "I'll come for half the money," I returned, as he took me by the arm and led me into the close cabin. My companion, I should explain, was Henry Wilton, the son of my father's cousin, who had the advantages of a few years of residence in California, and sported all the airs of a pioneer. We had been close friends through boyhood and youth, i and It was on his offer of employment ! that I had come to the city by the Golden Gate.

wnat a resemDiance: 1 nearu a alley, and the lower floor was inwoman exclaim, as we entered the . tended for a store or saloon; but a cabin. "They must be twins." renting agent's sign and a collection "There, Henry," I whlsperod with j of 0id show-bills ornamenting the a laugh; "you see we are discovered." j dIrty windows testified that it was Though our relationship was not ! vacant. close we had been cast in the mold j "This Isn't Just the place I'd choose of some common ancestor. We were I or entertaining friends," said Henry, bo nearly alike in form and feature as i wltn a visible relief from his uneasito perplex all but our intimate ac- j nG3S ag we cumbed the worn ana

quaintances, and we had made the resemblance the occasion of many tricks In our boyhood days. Henry had heard the exclamation as well as I. To my surprise, it appeared to bring him annoyance or apprehension rather than amusement. "I had forgotten that it would make us conspicuous," he said, more to himself than to me. I thought; and he glanced through the cabin as j though he looked for some peril. "We were used to that long ago," I said, as we found a seat. "Is the business ready for me? You wrote that you thought It would be in hand by the time I got here." "We can't talk about it here," he said in a low tone. "There is plenty of work to be done. It's not hard, but, as I wrote you, it needs a man of pluck and discretion. It's delicate business, you understand, and dangerous if you can't keep your head. But the danger won't be yours. I've got that end of it." "Of course you're not trying to do anything against the law?" I aaid. "Oh. it has nothing to do with the law," he replied with an odd smile. "In fact, it's a little matter in which we are well, you might say outsid the law." I gave a gasp at this distressing suggestion, and Henry chuckled as ha saw the consternation written on my face. Then he rose and said: "Come, the boat is getting In." "But 1 want to know " I began. "Oh, bother your 'want-to-knows.' It's not against the law just outside It, you understand. I'll tell you more of it when we get to my room. Give me that valise. Come along now." And as the boat entered the slip we found ourselves at the front of the pressing crowd that is always surging In and out of San Francisco by the gateway of the Market Street ferry. As we pushed our way through the clamoring hack-drivers and hotel-runners who blocked the entrance to the city, I was roused by a sudden thrii: of the instinct of danger that warns one when he mets the eye of a snake. It was gone in an instant, but I had time to trace effect to cause. The warning came this time from the eyes of a man. a lithe, keen-faced man who flashed a look of triumphant malice on us as he disappeared in the waiting-room of the ferry-shed. Eut the keen face and the basilisk glance were burned into my mind in that moment as deeply as though I had known then what evil was behind them. My companion swore softly to him self. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Don't look around," he said. "Wt are watched." "The snake-eyed man?" "Did you see him. too?" His manner was careless, but his tone was troubled. "I thought I had given him the slip," he continued. "Well, there'i DO help for it now." "Are we to hunt for a hiding-place?" I asked doubtfully.

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BQBB5-IfSRBJZ ccrmuvy" "Oh, no; not now. I wa3 going to take you direct to my room. Now we are going to a hotel with all the "Yes." Henry paid the bill, took the key, and we were shown to our room. After removing the travel-stains, I declared myself quite ready to dine. He led the way to the bar and then through a back room or two, until with a turn we were in a blind alley. After a pause to observe the street before we ventured forth, Henry said: "I guess we're all right now. "We must chance It, anyhow." So we dodged along in the shadow till we came to Montgomery Street, and after a brief walk, turned into a gloomy doorway and mounted a worn pair of stairs. The house was three stories in height. It stood on the corner of an dirty stair. "Oh, that's all right." I said, magnanimously accepting his apology. "It doesn't have all the modern conveniences," admitted Henry as wo stumbled up the second flight, "but it's suitable to the business we have in hand, and " "What's that?" 1 exclaimed, a3 a creaking, rasping sound came from tne han below We stopped and listened, peering into obscurity beneath. "It must have been outside," said Henry, and opened the door of the last room on the right of the hall. The room was at the rear corner of the building. There were two windows, one looking to the west, the Sm OCT' 4s K .- I y ZrJ Oil other to the north and opening on the narrow alley. "Not so bad after you get in," said Henry, half as an introduction, half as an apology., "It's luxury after six days of railroading," I replied. "Well, He down there, and make the most of it, then." he said, "for there mar be trouble ahead." And he ! listened again at the crack of the door. Tr. Uaavon's name. Iienrv. what's j up?.. j exclalmed with some temper. "You're as full of mysteries as a dime novel." Henry smiled grimly. ".Vaybe you don't recognize that this is serious business," he said. I was about to protest that I could not know too much, when Henry raised his hand with a warning to silence. I heard the sound of a cautious step outside. Then Henry sprang to the door, flung it open, and bolted down the passage. There was the gleam of a revolver in his. hand. I hurried after Mm, but as I crossed the threshold he was coming softly back, with finger on his lips. "I must see to the guards again. I can have them together by midnight." "Can I help?" "NO. Just wait here till I get backBolt the door, and let nobody la bu

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me. It isn't likely that they will try to do anything before midnight. If they do well, here's a revolver. Shoot through the door if anybody tries to break it down." I stood in the door, revolver in hand, watched him down the hall, and listened to his footsteps as they descended the stairs and at last faded away into the murmur of life that came up from the open street.

CHAPTER U. A Cry for Help. I hastily closed and locked the door. Then I rallied my spirits with something of resolution, and shamed myself with the reproach that I should fear to share any danger that Henry was ready to face. Wearied as I was with travel, I was too much excited for sleep. Reading was equally impossible. I scarcely glanced at the shelf of books that hung on the wall, and turned to a study of my surroundings. The room was on the corner, as I have said, and I threw up the sash of the west window and looked out over a tangle of old buildings, ramshackle sheds, and an alley that appeared to lead nowhere. Some sound of a drunken quarrel drew my attention to the north window, and I looked out into the alley. There were shouts and curses, and one protesting, struggling inebriate was hurled out from the front door and left, with threats and foul language, to collect himself from the pavement. This edifying incident, whic.h was explained to me solely by sound, had scarcely come to an end when a noise of creaking boards drew my eyes to the other window. The shutter suddenly flew around, and a human figure swung in at the open casing. "S-h-h!" came the warning whisper, and I recognized my supposed robber. It was Henry. "Don't speak out loud," he said in suppressed tones. "Walt till I fasten this shutter." "Shall I shut the window?" I asked, thoroughly impressed by hl3 manner. "No, you'll make too much noise," he said, stripping off his coat and vest. "Here, change clothes with me. Quick! It's a case of life and death. I must be out of here in two minutes. Do as I say, now. Don't ask questions. I'll tell you about It In a day or two. No, just the coat and vest. There give me that collar and tie. Where's your hat?" The changes were completed, or rather his were, and he stood looking as much like me as could be Imagined. "Don't stir from this room till I come back," he whispered. "You can dress in anything of mine you like. I'll be in before twelve, or send a messenger if I'm not coming. By-by." He was gone before I could say a word, and only an occasional creaking board told me of his progress down the stairs. He had evidently had some practice in getting about quietly. I could only wonder, as I closed and locked the door, whether It was the police or a private enemy that he was trying to avoid. I had small time to speculate on the possibilities, for outside the window I heard the single word, "Help!" I rushed to the window and looked out. A band of half a dozen men was struggling and pushing awky from Montgomery Street into the darker end of the alley. They were nearly under the window. "Give it to him," said a voice. In an instant there came a scream of agony. Then a light showed and a tall, broad-shouldered figure leaped back. "These aren't the papers," it hissed. "Ourse you, you've got the wrong man!" There was a moment of confusion, and the light flashed on the man who had spoken and was gone. But the flash had shown me the face of a man I could never forget. It was a strong, cruel, wolfish face the face of a man near sixty, with a fierce yellow-gray mustache and imperial a face broad at the temples and tapering down into a firm, unyielding jaw, and marked then with all the lines of rage, hatred, and chagrin at the failure of his plans. It took not a second for me to see and hear and know all this, for the vision came and was gone in the drooping of an eyelid. And then there echoed through the alley loud cries of "Police! Murder! Help!" I was conscious that there was a man running through the hall and down the rickety stairs, making the building ring to the same cries. It was thus with a feeling of surprise that I found myself in the street, and came to know that the cries for help had come from me, and that I was the man who had run through the hall and down the stairs shouting for the police. The street was empty. Fortunately the policeman on the beat was at hand, and I hailed him excitedly. "Only rolling a drunk," he said lightly, as I told of what I had seen. "No, it's worse than that I insisted. "There was murder done, and I'm afraid it's my friend." He listened more attentively as I told him how Henry had left the house just before the cry for help had risen. "It's a nasty place," he continued. "It's lucky I've got a light." He brought up 'a dark lantern from his overcoat pocket, and stood in the shelter of the building as he lighted it. "There's not many as carries 'em," he continued, "but they're mightr handy at times." We made cur way to the point beneath the window, where the men had stood. There was nothing to be seen n sign of struggle, no shred of torn clothing, no drop of blood. Body, traces and all had disapoeared

chapter nr. A Question in the Night. I was stricken dumb at this end to the investigation, and half doubted the evidence of my eye3. "Well," said the policeman, with a sigh of relief, "there's nothing here. I suspected that his doubts of my sanity were returning. "Here is where it was done," I asserted stoutly, pointing to the spot where I had seen the struggling group from the window. "There were surely five or six men in it" "It's hard to make sure of things from above in this light," said he policeman, hinting once more his suspicion that I was confusing dreams with reality. "There was no mistaking that job." I said. "See here, the alley leads farther back. Bring your light."

A few paces farther the alley turned ; at a right angle to the north. We looked narrowly for a body, and then for traces that might give hint of the passage of a party. "Nothing here," said the policeman. as we came out on the other street. "Maybe they've carried fcim Into one of these back-door dens, and maybe they whisked him into a hack here, and are a mile or two away by now." "But we must follow them. He may be only wounded and can be rescued. And these men can be caught." I was almost hysterical in my eagerness. "Alsy, aisy, now," said the policeman. "Go back to your room, now. That's the safest place for you, and you cs-n't do nothin' at all out here. I'll report the case to the head office, an' we'll send out the alarm to the force. Now, here's your door. Just rest aisy, and they'll let you know If anything's found." And he passed on, leaving me dazed with dread and despair in the entrance of the fateful house. Once more in the room to wait till morning should give me a chance to work, I looked about the dingy place with a heart sunk to the lowest depths. I was alone in the face of this mystery. I had not one friend in the city to whom I could appeal for sympathy, advice or money. Yet I should need all of these to follow this business to the end to learn the fate of my cousin, to rescue him, if alive and to avenge him, if dead. Then, in the hope that I might find something among Henry's effects to give me a clue to the men who had attacked him, I went carefully through his clothes and papers. But I found that he did not leave memoranda of his business lying about. The only scrap that could have a pos-; Bible bearing on it was a sheet of paper In the coat he had changed with me. It bore a rough map, showing a road branching thrice, with crosses marked here and there upon It. Underneath was written: "Third road cockheyed barn iron cow." Then followed some numerals mixed in a drunken dance with half the letters of the alphabet the explanation of the map, I suppose, in cipher, and as it might prove a clue to this dreadful business, I folded the sheet carefully in an envelope and placed It in an inmost pocket. The search having failed of definite results, I sat with chair tilted against the wall to consider the situation. Turn it - as I would I could make nothing good of It. - There were desperate enterprises afoot of which I could see neither beginning nor end, purpose nor result. I repented of my consent to mix in these dangerous doings and resolved that when the morning came I would find other quarters, take up the search for Henry, and look for such work as might be found. It was after midnight when I had come to this conclusion, and, barring doors and windows as well as I could, I flung myself on the bed to rest, and I sank into an uneasy slumber. When I awoke it was with a start and an oppressive sense that somebody else was In the room. The gaslight that I had left burning had been put out. Darkness was intense. I sat upright and felt for matches that - had seen upon the stand. In another instant I was flung back upon the bed. Wiry fingers gripped my throat, and a voice hissed in my ear: "Where is he? Where Is the boy? 31ve me your papers, or I'll wring the life out of you!" I was strong and vigorous, and, though taken at a disadvantage, struggled desperately enough to break the grip on my throat and get a hold upon my assailant "Where i3 the boy?" gasped the voice once more; and then, as I made ao reply, but twined my arms about llm my assailant saved all hi3 breati !or the struggle. We rolled to the floor with a thud &at shook the house, and in this

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FOE MADAM AND MADEMOISELLE

By FASHION FANCIES The narrow silk linked stole of last year has entirely disappeared from this j year's showing. Boas, thick, full, a!- ! most collars in their thickness have j superseded them. Silver, white and! brown fox. pointed and unpointed will be the furs chiefly seen in the boa and collar forms and with them will be carried a big:, full and fiattish muff. Every grirl realizes that a hunting or boating dress Is no more in place at a reception than whips and spurs would be among the dainty costumes. Good taste recognizes as truly that a chiffon or lace waist without a coat is not suitable for the promenade, and even with a coat open from the neck down, strips of Insertion and lace yokes do not furnisli enough protection for the chest during the snows of winter or the high winds of the rest of the year, summer included. In considering- the question of dress, fitness for the occasion is. of course, the first requisite. , For every occasion, however, simplicity should be the keynote for a girl's dress. She will probably never realize the charm of mere youth until she is far beyond it, but if Bhe is wise she will heed those who tell her that youth has a charm which Is greatly enhanced by simplicity of dress. And it is not alone her seniors who hold this opinion. Not long ago a young man raid, complalningly, to ' his sister: "I came out today in the car with Lily, and she did look like a guy. She's a pretty girl, too. Ixts of the fellows think she looks just like a Madonna, and sometimes she does; but today she had on a hat that would have suited a variety actress, and tier hair was all crinkled instead of smooth and shiny, the way It looks best." Then warming to his subject, the young' student went on: "I do wish you girls would dress more simply. You're ever so much more attractive that way, if you did but know it. All these furbelows and loose ends look as if you were coming to pieces. ' Many otherwise charming young women have a habit of coming to breakfast In "any old thing," a habit In most cases growing out of laziness. Few people feel up to the normal conversational level in the early morning. For that reason, if for no other, they should take extra pains to be attractive in appearance. The writer has in mind a family of comfortable means, whose four delightful daughters of the house dawdle into the breakfast-room always late, having very evidently stayed in bed until the last possible moment, and then made the most casual of toilets, which should have been put to shame by those of the trim serving-maids. These young women were all handsome and talented, generous and vivacious; but the carelessness of their morning attire certainly detracted much from their charm, and was a source of great annoyance to others of the family, whose expressions of disapproval they met -with most disarming sweetness of temper or with provoking arguments n defence of their laxity. One mem change of base I had the lucX to come out uppermost. Then my courage rose as I found that I could hold my man. I feared a knife, but If ho had one he had not drawn It, and I was able to keep his hands too busy to allow him to get possession of It now. Finding that he was able to accomplish nothing, he gave a short cry and called: "Conn!" I heard a confusion of steps outside, and a sound as of a muffled oath. Then the door opened, there was a rush ol feet behind me, and the flash of a bull's-eye lantern. I released my enemy, and sprang back to the corner where I could defend myself at some advantage. (To be Continued.)

KAUF?IVIAINIV & WOLF

FRIDAY,

5,000 Yards of the Famous

Frait

At NO MORE

BEATRICE IMOGENE HANSEN

ber, however, of this delightful household steadily refused to be cajoled Shiftless. I call it." was her linal word and so it was. Dresses for tall girls should be full and on llowing lines. Mousing slightly hack and front. Princesses and high girdle effects should be avoided. High collais and fluffy ruches are becoming to this style of girl; also large bows worn on the hair at the nape of the neck. In tucking a garment, where you are a little short of cloth or think it would be easier this way. Just place the upper tuck, laying folds for the others, and Mitch them Just so the upper tuck always comes even with or Just over the stltohlrg. Shirtwaists for stout women The fastening for a stout woman's shirtwaist should never be in the back. A becoming way is to open tho waist at the left front. The fronts should be laid with some fullness at the shoulder, and a small tuck near the armhole under the other plaits or gathers, and stitched a few Inches down; this gives a spring across the bust. Also putting an extra side body into a shirtwaist for a stout woman adds to Its appearance. Tboe Cui-Im Curls and how to get them would be such a profitable subject for discussion, one wonders why it isn't assigned some time by the program committee of the club. Not, of course, instead of ''The Psychology of the King and the Hook," or "The Realism of Thomas Hardy," but merely for a change, and as a means of affording a profitable matter for discussion and one In which all the members would be vitally interested. There's a good deal to be said on the subject, too. In the first place, j to go back to the beginning, it must j surely be admitted that it is the duty ! of every woman to be as good look- j ing as possible, and that she may cultivate her good looks reasonably and intelligently without laying herself open to the charge of vanity. Then there's the subject of the relation of ! the hair to good looks. This can not J te overestimated, and its sare to say that it's worth a very definite effort to have one's hair well arranged. Hut at this point there arises the difficulty of producing curls where there are no curls and waves where waves are not . This Is a real problem, because in the first place it's a hard matter to make the hair look well without them, and in the second place most of the methods of producing them are unsatisfactory, and harmful. Constant curling with a hot iron not only tends to break and burn the hair, but the heat of the Iron is likelv to kill the downy growth of new hair. The time-honored curl paper and kid curler is not only hideous to look at. but impossible to sleep on with any degree of comfort. The Marcel wave is. expensive and so Impractical for most people. There are however, one or two ways which are neither harmful nor uncomfortable and which it's worth while to try. To wave the pompadour, separate the hair about the face into about five strands. Dampen each strand, and lay It in a series of small letter s's, pinning each curve with a short prinkled, wire hairpin. The result isn't a really graceful coiffure, but not half as objectionable In appearance as curl papers and not at all uncomfortable. When the hair is brushed out In the morning It has the appearance of natural waves. Another plan Is somewhat similar though does not require that the hair be separated Into strands. Arrange the hair, on top of the head In a loose knot, allowing it to puff out a good deal all around. Brush It with a dampened brush and Insert a number of narrow long side combs all around the head In such a way as to make two or three small puffs running all around the head.

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Our Pattern Department

A CHARMING GOWN FOR THP HOUSE. rattern No. 5SCS. This exceedingly attractive morning gown is quite simple, yet very graceful and becoming. It suggests the kimono in style, although slightly more fitted in tha back. The front is laid In fine tucks in the upper part, and falls free from the shoulders, without closing, unless so desired, so that tho garment may be easily slipped on and off. A fancifully shaped trimming band outlines the neck and front odges, the wide short sleeve being trimmed to correspond. The soft Japanese fabrics are the prettiest for a garment of this kind, but otherwise materials such as lawn, cashmere and cotton crepe are all suitable. For 36-inch bust measure seven yards of 38 inch material will be required. Sizes for 32, 34, 3G, 38, 40 and 42 Inches bust measure. , This pattern will he sent to you on receipt of 10 ceuts. Address all orders totlie Pattern Department of this paper. Be sure to pive size and number of pat-' tern wanted, l or convenience, write' your order on the following1 coupon: No 5863. SIZE. , NAME , ADDRESS. norsKiioi.n hints. Coarse salt sprinkled occasionally on the floor before sweeping is said to be a good preventive of moths. Willow furniture can be easily cleaned by scrubbing with strong salt water. Ulnae well and after partially drying with a piece of flannel, finish in a sunny, airy place. Do no counteract the effect of boiled water by putting in It Ice that you are not certain is germ free. Water stood in the refrigerator until Just before using is quite cool enough for any but the perverted palate. A French housewife who is noted for her tea always has the leaves ground like coffee. This she declares more than doubles its strength and much less need be used. Hammond Bleached CUSTOMER-

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