Hammond Times, Volume 2, Number 118, Hammond, Lake County, 4 November 1907 — Page 3

Mondav, Nov. 4, 1907.

h n c a & k HDFOL! n A Mystery Story o Saa Francisco BY EARLE ASHLEY WALCOTT vr t Copyright ISO, the Ilobb-J!rrill Co.) (Continued.) I was tempted beyond measure to throw myself on her mercy and tell all. The subtle sympathy that she inspired was softening my resolution. Yet, as I looked into her eyes, her face hardened and her wrath blazed forth once more. "Go!" she said. "I hope I may never see you again!" And she turned and ran ewiftly up the stair. I thought I hear a sob, but whether of anger or sorrow I knew net. And I went out into the night with a heavier load of depression than I had borne since I entered the city. CHAPTER XIII. A Day of Grace. Resolve, shame, despair, fought with each otner in the tumult in my mind as I passed between the bronze lions and took my way down the street. I was called out of my distractions with a sudden start as though a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me. I had proceeded not twenty feet when I saw two dark forms across the street. They had. It struck me, been waiting for my appearance, for one ran to join the other and both hastened toward the corner as though to bo ready to meet me. I could not retreat to the house of the Wolf that loomed forbiddingly behind me. There was nothing to do but to go forward and trust to my good fortune, and I shifted my revolver to the" side-pocket of my overcoat as I stepped -briskly to the corner. Then I stopped under the lamp-post to reconnoiter. The two men who had roused my apprehensions did not offer to cross the street, but sleekened their pace and strolled slowly along on the other side. I noted that it seemed a long way between street-lamps thereabouts. I could see none between the one under which I was standing and the brow of the hill below. Then it occurred to me that this circumstance might not be due to the caprice of the street department of the city government, but to the thoughtfulnesa of the gentlemen whe were paying such close attention to my affairs. I decided that there were hotter ways to get down town than were offered by Fine street. To the south the cross-street stretched to Market with an unbroken array of lights, and as my unwary watchers had disappeared in the dark ness, I hastened down the incline with "so little regard for dignity that I found myself running for a Sutter street ar and caught it. too. As I swung on the the platform I looked back; but I saw no sign of skulking figures before the car swept past the corner and blotted the street from sight. The incident gave me a distaste for the idea of going back to Henry Wilton's room at this time of the night. So at Montgomery street I stepped into the Lick house, where I felt reasonably sure that I might get at least one night's sk'ep, from from the haunting fear of the assassin. But, once more safe, the charms of Luella Knapp again claimed the major part of my thoughts, and when 1 went to sleep it was with her scornful words ringing In my ears. I slept soundly until the morning sun peeped into the room with the cheerful announcement that a new day was born. In the fresh morning air and the bright morning light, I felt that I might have been unduly suspicious and bad fled from harmless citizens; and I was ashamed that I had lacked cimrage to return to Henry's room as I made my way thither for a change of clothes. I thought better of my decision, however, as I stepped within the gloomy wslls of the house of mystery and my footfalls echoed through the chilling silence of the halls. And I lost all regret over my night's lack of courage when I reached my door. It was swung an inch ajar, and as I approached 1 thought I saw it move. "I'm certain I ioeked it," was my Inward comment. I stopped short and hunted my revolver from my overcoat pocket. I was nervous for a moment, and angry at the inattention that might have cost me my life. "Who's there?" I demanded. No reply. I gave knock on the door at long reach There was no sound and I gave it a push that sent It open while I prudently kept behind the fortification of the casing. As no developments followed this move, I peeped through the door in cautious investigation. The room was quite empty, and I walked In. The sight that met my eyes was astonishing. Clothe?, books, papers, were scattered over the floor and bed and chairs. The carpet had been partly ripped up, the mattress torn apart, the closet cleared out, and every corner of the room had been ransacked. It was clear to my eye that this was no ordinary case of robbery. The search, it wis evident, was not for money and Jewelry alone, and bulkier property had been despised. The men wao had torn the place to pieces must,

I surmised, have been after papers of. some kind. I cam at once to the conclusion that I tad been favored by a visit from my friends, the-enemy. As they had failed to find me in, they had looked for some written memoranda of the object of their search. I knew well that they had found nothing among the clothing or papers that Henry had left behind. I had searched through these myself, and the eole document that could bear on the mystery was at that moment fast In my inside pocket. I was inclined to scout the Idea that Henry Wilton had hidden anything under the carpet or in the mattreBS, or in any secret placa The threads of the mystery were carried in h's head, and the correspopdence. if thre had been any. was de

stroyed. As I was engaged in putting the room to rights the dor swung back, and I jumped to my feet to face a man who stood on the threshold. "Hello!" he cried. "House-cleaning &&nla?" It was Dicky Nihl, and he paused with a smile on hi3 face. "Ah, Dicky!" I said with an effort to keep out of my face and voice the suspicions I had gained from the in cidents of the visit to the Borton place. "Entirely unpremeditated, I assure you." "Well, you're making a thorough job of it," he said with a laugh. -Fact Is," said I ruefully, "I've been entertaining angels of the black kind unawares. I was from home last night, and I find that somebody has made himself free with my property while I was away." "Whew!" whistled Dicky. "Guess they were after you." I gave Dicky a sidelong glance In a vain effort to catch more of his meaning than was conveyed by his words. "Shouldn't be surprised,"- I replied dryly, picking up an armful of books. 'Td expect them to be looking for me In the book-shelf or inside the mattress-cover, or under the carpet." Dickly laughed joyously. "Well, they did rather turn things upside down," he chuckled. "Did they get anything?" And he fell to helping me zealously. "Not that I can find out," I replied. "Nothing of value, anyhow." "Not any paper, or anything of that sort?" asked Dicky anxiously. "Dicky, my boy," said I; "there are two kinds of foola The other is the man who writes his business on a sheet of paper and forgets to burn it." Dicky grinned merrily. "Gad, you're getting a turn for epi- J gram! You'll be writing for the Argonaut first we know." "Well, you'll allow me a shade of common sense, won't you?" "I don't know," said Dicky, considering the proposition doubtfully. "It might have been awkward if you had left anything lying about. But if you had real good sense you'd have had the guards here. What are you paying them for, anyhow?" I saw difficulties in the way of explaining to Dicky why I had not ordered the guards on duty. "Oh, by the way," said Dicky sud denly, before a suitable reply had come to me; "how about the scads spondulicks you know? Yesterday was pay-day, but you didn't show up." I don't know whether my jaw dropped or not. My spirits certainly did. "By Jove, Dicky!" I exclaimed, catching my breath. "It slipped my mind, clear. I haven't got at our ahem banker, either." I saw now what that mysterious money was for or a part of it, at all events. What I did not see was how I was to get it, and how to pay it to my men. "That's rough," said Dicky sympathetically. "I'm dead broke." It would appear then that Dicky looked to me for pay, whether or not he felt bound to me in service. "There's one thing I'd like explained before a settlement," said I grimly, as I straightened out the carpet; "and that is the little performance for my benefit the other night." Dicky cocked his head on one side, and gave me an uneasy glance. "Explanation?" he said in affected surprise. "Yes," said I sternly. "It looked like a plant. I was "a'Ahm one of getting a knife in me." "What became of you?" inquired Dicky. "We looked around for you for an hour, and were afraid you had been t carried off." "That's all right. Dicky," 1 said. "I know how I got out. What I want to know is how I got in taken in." "I don't know," said Dicky anxiously. "I was regular!.' fooled, myself. I thought they were fishermen, all right enough, and I never thought that Ter riil had the nerve to come in there. 1 was fooled by his disguise, and he gave the word, and I thought sure that Richmond had sent him." Dicky had dropped all banter and was speaking with the tone of sincerity. "Well, it's ail right now, but I don't want any more slips of that sort. Who was hurt?" "Trent got a ftad cut in the side. One of the Tcrrill gang was shot. I i heard it was only through the arm or leg, I forgot which." I was consumed with the desire to ask what had become of Borton's, but 1 suspected t-hat I wa3 supposed to know, and prudently kept the question to myself. 'Well, come along." said I. "Tha room will do well enough now. Oh, here's a tn, and I'll let you know as soon as I get the rest. Where can I Cad you?" "At the old place," said Dicky; "three twenty-six." "Clay?" I asked in desperation. Dicky cave me a wondering look a3 i inS

WTiat's the matter with you?" "Oh, to be sure. Geary street, of course. Well, let me know if anything turns up. Keep a close watch on things." Dicky looked at me in some apparent perplexity as I walked up the stair to my Clay street office, but gave only some laughing answer as he turned back. But I was in far from a laughing humor myself. The problem of paying the men raised fresh prospects of trouble, and I reflected grimly that if the money was not found I might be in more danger from my unpaid mer cenaries than from the enemy. Ten o'clock passed, and eleven, with no sign from Doddridge Knapp, and I wondered if the news I had carried him of the activities of Terrill and of Decker had disarranged his plans. I tried the door into Room 16. It was locked, and no sound came to my ears from behind it. "I should really like to know," I thought to myself, "whether Mr. Doddridge Knapp has left any papers in his desk that might bear oa the Wilton mystery. I tried my keys, but none of them fitted the lock. I gave up the attempt indeed, my mind shrank from the Idea of going through my employer's papers but the desire of getting a key that would open the door was planted In my brain. Twelve o'clock came. No Doddridge Knapp had appeared, and I sauntered down to the Exchange to pick up any Items of news. It behooved me to be looking out for Doddridge Knapp'? movements. If he had got another agent to carry out his schemes, I should have to prepare my lines for attack from another direction. Wallbridge was just coming rapidly out of the Exchange. "No," said the little man, mopping the perspiration from his shining head, "quiet as lambs to-day. Their own mothers wouldn't have known the Board from a Sunday school." I inquired about Omega. "Flat as a pancake," said the little man. "Nothing doing." "What! Is it down?" I exclaimed with some astonishment. "Lord bless you, no!" said Wallbridge, surprised in his turn. "Strong and steady at eighty, but we didn't sell a hundred shares to-day. Well, I'm in a rush. Good-by, if you don't want to buy or sell." And he hurried off without waiting for a reply. So I was now assured that Doddridge Knapp had not displaced me in the Omega deal. It was a recess to prepare another surprise for the Street, and I had time to attend to a neglected duty. The undertaker's shop that held the morgue looked hardly less gloomy in the afternoon sun than in the light of breaking day in which I had left it when I parted from Detective Coogan. The office was decorated mournfully to accord with the grief of friends who ordered the coffins, or the feelings of the surviving relatives on settling the bills. "I am Henry Wilton," I explained to the man in charge. "There was a body left here by Detective Coogan to my order, I believe." "Oh, yes," he said. "What do you want done with it?" I explained that I wished to arrange to have it deposited in a vault for a time, as I might carry it east. "That's easy done," he said; and he explained the details. "Would you like to see the body?" he concluded. "We embalmed it on the strength of C organ's order." I shrank from another look at the battered form. The awfulness of the tragedy came upon me with hardly less force than In the moment when I had first faced the mangled and bleeding body on the slab in the deadroom. The undertaker was talking, but I knew not what he said. I was shaking with the horror and grief of the situation, and in that moment I renewed my vow to have blood for blood and life for life, if law and justice were to be had. "We'll take it out any time," said the undertaker, with a decorous re flection of mv grief upon his face. "Would you like to accompany the remains?" I decided that I would. "Well, there's nothing doing now. We can start as soon as we have sealed the casket," "As soon as ycu can. There's nothing to wait for." The ride to the cemetery took me through a part of San Francisco that I had not yet sen. But I paid little attention to the streets through which we passed. My mind was cn the friend se name I had taken, wose work 1 j ..

"No Geary,

f . i

aa to do. I was back with him In

THE LAKE COUNTY TIMES

our boyhood days, and lived again for the fleeting minutes the life we had I lived in cosamon; and the resolve j grew stronger oa me that his fate ! should be avenged. Arriving at the cemetery it was soon over. The body of Henry Wilton was committed V3 the vault with the single mourner looking on, and we drove rapidly back in the falling light. I had given my address at the undertaker's shop, and the hack stopped in front of my house of mystery before I knew where we were. Darkness had come upon the place, and the streetlamps were alight and the gas was blazing in the store-windows along the thoroughfares. As I stennfd out of ! the carriage and gazed about me, I recognized the gloomy doorway and Its neighborhood- that had greeted me on my first night in San Francisco. As I was paying the fare a stout figure stepped up to me. "Ah, Mr. Wilton, it's you again. I turned in surprise. It was fhe policeman I had met on my first night In San Francisco. "Oh, Corson, how are you?" I said heartily, recognising him at last. I felt a sense of relief in the sight of him. The place was not one to quiet my nerves after the errand from which I had just come. "All's well, sor, but I've a bit of paper for ye." And after some hunt ing he brought it forth. "I was asked 1 to hand this to ye." I took it in wonder. Was there something more from Detective Coogan? I tore open the envelope and read on Its inclosure: "Kum tonite to the house. Shure if youre life is wurth savein. "Muther Borton." CHAPTER XIV. Mothar Borton's Advice. I studied the note carefully, then turned to Policeman Corson "When did she give you thisand -and where?" "A lady?" said Corson with a grin. "Ah, Mr. Wilton, it's too sly she is to give it to me. 'Twas a boy askin' for ye. 'Do you know him?' says he. T do that, says I. 'Where is he?' says he. 'I don't know,' says I. 'Has 'e a room?' says he. 'He has,' says I. 'Where is it?' says he. 'What's that to you?' says I " "Yes, ye3," I interrupted. "But where did he get the note?" "I was just tellin' ye, sor," said the policeman amiably. "He shoves the note at me ag'ln, an' says he, 'It's important,' says he. 'Go up there,' says I. 'Last room, top floor, right-hand side.' Before I comes to the corner up here, he's after me ag'in. 'He's gone,' says he. 'Like enough,' says I. 'When'll he be back?' says he. 'When the cows come home, sonny,' says I. 'Then there'll be the divil to pay,' says he. I pricks up my ears at this. Why?' says L. 'Oh, he'll be killed. says he, 'and I'll git the derndest lickin',' says he. 'What's up?' says I, makin' a grab for him. But he ducks an' blubbers. 'Gimme that letter,' says I, 'and you just kite back to the folks that sent you, and tell them what's the matter. I'll give your note to your man if he comes while I'm on the beat,' says I. I knows too much to try to git anything more out of him. I says to meself that Mr. Wilton ain't in the safest place in the world, and this kid's folks maybe means him well, and might know some other place to look for him. The kid jaws a bit, an' then does as I tells him, an" cuts away. That's half an hour ago, an' here you are, an' here's your let ter." I hesitated for a little before saying anything. It was with quick suspicion that I wondered why Mother Borton had secured again that gloomy and deserted house for the interview she was planning. "That was very kind of you. You didn't know what was in the letter then?" "No, sor," replied Corson with a touch of wounded pride. "It's not me as would open another man's letter unless in the way of me duty." "Do you know Mother Borton?" I continued. "Know her? know her?" returned Corson in a tone scornful of doubt on such a point. "Do I know the slickest crock in San Francisco? Ah, it's many a story I could tell you, Mr. Wilton, of the way that ould she-divil has slipped through our fingers when we thought our hands were on her throat. And it's many of her brood we have put safe in San Quentin." "Yes, I suppose so." said I dryly. "But the woman has done me service saved rny life, I may say and I'm willing to forget the bad in: her." "That's not for me to say, sor; but there's quare things happens, no doubt." "This note," I continued, "is written over her name. I don't know whether it came from her or not; but if she sent it I must see her. It may be a case of life or death for me." "An" if it didn't come from her?" asked the ne'jeeman shrewdly. "Thar." cold T PTlmlv "it'j Htelv tr be a case of death if I venture alone." "I'll tell yon what, Mr. Wilton," said Corson after a pause. "If you'll wait a bit, I'll go with you that is. if there Isn't somebody else you'd like ! better to have by your side to-night. You don't look to have any of your friends about." "Just the thing." I said heartilv. There's no one I'd rather have. We'll go down as soon as we can get a bite to eat" "I'll have to wait a bit, sor, till my ;

relief comes. He'll be along soon. As pravation beCause it will not stay for getting a bite, you can't do better j cIo?t,d, To remdy this drive a brass than wait till you g?t to Mother Dor-; h. aded tack into the floor of the cupton's. It's a rough rlaee. but it's 20t a i board so that the lower edge of the

name for good cooking I was bewildered. (To be Continued.)

MADAM AND MADEMOISELI

By THE CARE OF THE TAUI.E. And now a word as to the care of face cloths and things to be used on the toilet table. The Mrst thing is absolute clt-anliness. The next is absence of odors. The wash cloth must be cared fir properly and kept sacredly clean. Change your wash cloth often, and whrn you use !t more than a day hang Jit. in the fresh air. Do not use sponges. a. they become pour without the most scrupulous cart' and attention, and even with this absorb more germs and smells than almost anything we know of. If your soap is kept in a dish on the toilet table see that this dish is also perfectly chan and dry. Wit soap dishes waste expensive soaps and are unsightly to look at as well. Chamois SKlns can be k.pt as clean as the wash cloth, and can bf washed regularly and must be aired frequently. Such n Difference As there is in toilet tables! I know a woman once who said that she could tell what a girl's top bureau drawer looked like from the way she combed her hair, and though the statement was a bit exaggerated, it seems quite possible. Some dressers look so topsy-turvey all the time, that it fairly upsets one's ... -i n,' - rv'"s 10K at tticm. w spea oi toilet luxeries, and the modern girl really does have many dressing knickknacks which our grandmothers would have considered the purest frivolties. but the order in which she keeps her things is far from creditable. The I-w MliiutM Each morning and night that a girl gives to making herself look pretty, ought to be the time of solid comfort and rest, instead of a mad race with hair brush in one hand and a watch in the other. The chair in front of the table, to begin with, should be comfortable so that she feels like resting when she drops into it. Some girls always stand to comb their hair, and even while manicuring their nails, I am told. Why not take it a little easier? Sit down to your dresser with your things spread out in front of you, and make a luxury of dressing. Too Tired to Sleep Is the frequent story that girls tell after a night of restless tossing and turning. The girl who says this wasn't too tired to sleep, for such a thinir isn't possible. She had probably dashed up stairs to bed right after finishing an exciting novel or directly after closing the door on her last caller. Then she loosened her hair and dabbed a little cold cream on her nose, before undressing, and tumbled into bed with her mind full of all sorts of distracting thoughts. Then she didn't sleep. Of course she didn't, but if she had taken 15 extra minutes before her dresser, brushing out her hair, massaging her face and fussing around with the do.zen little toilet trilles that any well groomed girl has on hand, she would probably have slept like a top. There is nothing so restful to the whole system as slipping into a loose dressing gown or kimono and brushing one's hair. The movement of the arm starts the blood to circulating once more through the parts of the body that have been cramped by the clothing all day. and the rush of excitement ebbs as the blood is drawn from the overheated forehead to the rest of the body. Tha Morning Minutes Are quite important too. The modern maiden laughs scornfully at the thought of the grand ladies of olden times who receive morning callers before rising, but the old way had its advantage after all. It gave one a chance to draw one's breath and take a square look at the day and its problems before entering them. The nearest substitute that the busy girl of todav can have for these morning calls is a little visit with her dressing table, and the girl who rises 15 minutes earlier to enjoy it, is sure to feel better all day. HIYTS FOIt THE HOUSEWIFE. MnrMhallowH and Chocolate When serving hot chocolate place several marshmallows on the saucer. These are delicious when, dipped in the chocolate and allowed to melt. The chocolate must be sweetened when served and one can let the marshmallows take the place of cream if preferred. To Serve t.rnpe I-rult Just now grape fruit begins to come in and is very good. A pretty way to serve it is to cut each fruit in half, taking care to wash the outside thoroughly. Make a handle for the fruit out of thin wires with which smilax or some other delicate vine is trained. The wire will stick in the thick rind and hold in place. Loosen the pulp from the sides, hollow out the middle by pulling out the thick white skin, and fill in this space with cherries or crystallized ginger or maple sugar. Sherry poured over the whole gives a fine flavor. Sweeten the fruit before serving. Tea and coffee stains can be removed from linen by pouring boiling water o er the stained part, holding it over a basin so that the water can pass through the linen. A little glycerine rubbed well into the finest damask will remove all coffee stains. A flat tray from a trunk Is an excellent help on ironing days. As each ; piece is finished it can be laid in the i tray, and when the whole is done it is easy to carry about to put the clean Pieces in their proper places, If the straw matting in the chambers S has become stained or faded it may be restored by washing in a strong solution of soda water. Use ordinary bakiner soda. Wash thorousrhlv. usinsf j FoaPi and when it is dry Jt wlI1 be I found all one color and the spots will j be Vntireiy removed. ave the umbrella Jar from being j broken or cracked by umbrellas that 'are carelessly dropped into it by putting the bottom with a piece of an old rub!br mat- If thf re ,s no h article at I hand get a piece or sneei ruoutr ejcii as that used by plumbers. The small door of a wash stand or r,tr i-nnhnor,! oftpn a "source of sr. door strikes it when closed. Plaster of paris casts that are dirty can be made like new by washing them carefully in luke warm water and then

BEATRICE IMOGEN E HANSEN

when thoroughly dry by sponging them with liquid white. Get the kind that is used to renew white canvas shoes, and if one application is not sufficient wait till the first coat is dry and apply a second. Gilt picture frames may be freshened and brightened by washing them with a soft brush dipped in the following mixture: Put enough liour of sulpher into a pint of water to give it a yel low tinge, add two onions, cut Into j pit-ces. and let them boil; strain into a dish, and when the liquid becomes cold it is readv for use. UVCKl.CS IX. Hunt up that hat buckle that you laid awav so carefu lv two or tnree years ,. handsome steel buckles, both plain and cut, are shown on the new hats, and as for pins, those done in fine enamels, and also those with handsome crystal heads and in tortoise shell, amber and others, are in use. A Pimple hat may be sufficiently trimmed with a knot of velvet, a little plumage and a couple of really handsome pins. VELVET. Delicate velvet can be washed In tepid soapsuds. It must not be rubbed but gently pressed in the water, thoroughly rinsed and dried quickly, cither in the sun or wind. Heat an iron, turn it upside down, cover with a wet cloth and steam the velvet by placing the wrong side of the material down on the wet cloth. If a second person can assist, the velvet will be neater, since some one should brush the velvet while it is steaming. The work must bo done rapidly or it will be a failure. Whipping is the most exquisite way of gathering a ruffle, though it has been almost forgotten in these days ! of the sewing machine and ready mades. For baby clothes Jt is especially dainty. A whipped ruffle should be at least twice the length of the space to which it Is sewed. Whipping is only used on thin materials, such as lace, net, or fine lawns. For a hemmed ruffle roll toward you the upper edge or tne material into ;nc smallest possible coil. The edge of a whipped ruffle is overhand to the material. How many housewives know that prunes require absolutely no sweetening; that if they are cooked slowly for "hours and hours" there is a sugar from them that nature provides as a sweetening? In other words, they sweeten themselves and if cooked long enough are covered with a rich sirup without one grain of sugar being added to them. The flavor is also improved by this method of cooking them, and the oftentimes despised prune, sauce becomes an enjoyable addition to the table OYE HAY'S MEM'. II H E A K FA ST. Apples. Cereal. Fried Oysters. Coffee. Oatmeal Gems. M'M'IIKOX. Sliced Tongue. Corn Pudding. Apple and Nut Salad. Sponge Cake. Tea. niNNF.H. White Soup. Boiled Salmon. Green I'eas. Sweet Potatoes. Coffee. Lemon Pie. Oatmeal Gems Put Into a bowl one pint of cooked oatmeal and add to It half a teaspoonful of salt and the yolk of an egg; mix and add half a cupful each of boiling water and milk, a cup ful of whole wheat or white flour and a rounding teaspoonful of baking pow er. Beat well for two minutes and add the white of the egg. Bake in greased gem pans for half an hour In a hot oven. Corn Fuddlng One pint of grated corn, one cup of rich milk, three eggs, whites and yolks beaten separately, one tablespoonf ul of sugar, one teaspoon of salt, one tablespoon of melted butter. Stir in whites of eggs Just before putting In oven. Bake in moderate oven about 45 minutes. UNCALLED FOR LETTERS. The following letters remain uncalled for in Hammond postofrice for week ending Nov. 4, 1907: Norlli Amerrod. Milan Bogicevic. Phil Boyle. A. F. Cooper. Joe B. Chandler. Ida M. Drowty (2). Makapv Deinu. Charlie Foster. Mrs. Harrv Gillen. H. C. Gaur.tt. John H. Goodrich (2). Sarah Halsted. Bogdan Ignica. M. Kallb.-rg. Tom Keitzer. Kostandin P. Kunacoff. Wm. I'. Kruse. Petr Kosproff. Miss Helen Lafferty. Michal Lutas. Karnest Long (2). I, uziel Lukos. Waiter Igrr.s. Mrs. Anna McNeil, ler.ard Moren. Mrs. W. II. Murphy. Moldovan Nan. Harry Nikitenko. Ben Noble. Grlgor Nedelkin. Davie Person. Miss Ella Palmer. Keravicsa Peno. Harry Rahl. Jacob lieed. Edd Roberts. It. I. Itepmann. Chas. Reifel. Karl RuJkirzt. Stanley. Blanch Sullivan. Mrs. Harry Stratton. Mrs. Jennie Stratton. J. C. Smith. It. W. Schu'.or. Woisvt Sudomgu. V. V. Smith. Moyk Uhrin. Frank Ura. F. J. Willis. WM. II. GOSTLIN, Postmaster. Fcr death calls and ambulance calls, the promptest service Is given by Nicholia Emmerlir.s. undertaker. Telephone 9. atv.

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.LftJ Our Pattern Department STYLISH MODE FOR LITTLE MAID. THE The little boxplaited dress here illustrated i8 mada to be worn over a gulmpe, which may, however, be omitted for warm weather, when a different effect is obtained. Three box-plaits are laid in front and back, the upper edgo being attached to a square cut-yoke. The closing la made under the center lox-plait in tho back. The sleeve caps are of simple shaping, and a belt of the material or of leather encircles the waist Gingham, pique, cashmere, challla and the plaid fabrics are all suggested for the making. For a girl of eight years three and one-eighth yards of 36-inch material will be required. Sizes for 4, C, 8, 10 and 12 years. This pattern vill bo 6ent to you on receipt of 10 cents. Address all orders to the Pattern Department of this paper. He sure to pive mzo and number of pattern wanted. For convenience, writo yor order on the following coupoi': No 5865. SIZE. NAME ADDRESS. MLLE. ZARA New York's Favorite Palmist and Clairvoyant Just returned from Europe where she has met with remarkable success in the foretelling of coming events. This Wonderful Woninit can tell you all about your business and love affairs, in fact anything you would like to know. Special Offer Bring this ad and 25a and Mile. Zara will give you a Jl.Od reading, or for 50c a ?2.00 full life readlnj This offer is good for a few days only. Don't delay. You will And her at 20l Michigan ave. nur, from 9 a. m. to 0 p. in., Including Sundays. Announcenienf To Every Business Man As it Is known to you that I was held up on the night of May 16, I wish you to understand that it was my directly own property 1 lost and not to the firm, and by the way, I take pleasure to announce that I am not any more connected with tl. e old firm beeau! I am tired of helping them make all tha profits. Now I am In business for myself and will divide the profits with my custo--mers. This will give you an opportunity to share with me. As ev-ery man In this vicinity knows, In the past two years I have treated them right and I surely will try my best to do so in tho future with cut prices. I hope and trust that my customers Ehall not listen to foolish stories of the old firm made for revenge because I am not with them any more. , The orders you gave to me for 190S will be filled by the old firm In good condition, but from next January I beg you not to make any mistake and wait for my arrival with a complete line of. new samples which mean to you bene fit and profit. Very truly yours, iYiaurice Zelechower HIGH GRADE CALENDARS and NOVELTIES 696 West Polk Street CHICAGO. In look I ne over tbe classified a da. today jou are apt to find some that Ranrr qnntlon which you save bcea nsklDff lately.

&86S f (PI

Pattern No. r.S65.

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