Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 31, Number 267, 24 October 1906 — Page 7

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By KATHERINE CECIL THURSTON, Author of "The Circle." Etc.

Copyright, 1904. by : chapter vii.: I' -w- T wan a little less than three I weeks since Chilcote and Loder H had drunk their toast antLagain . 1 Tjo&er was seated at his desk. His head was bent and his hand moved carefully as he traced line after line of meaningless r.-ords on a sheet of foolscap. Having covered the page I with writing, he rose, moved to the center table and compared his task with an open letter that lay there. The comparison seemed to please him. lie straightened his shoulders and threw back his head in an attitude of critical satisfaction. So absorbed was he that when a step sounded on the stairs outride be did not notice it, and only raised his head when the door was thrown open unceremoniously. Even then his interest Mas momentary. "Hello ! he said, his eyes returning to thei scrutiny of his task. Cbileote shut the door and came has- ) tily across the room. He looked ill and harassed. As he reached Loder he put out his band nervously and touched his arm. Loder looked up. "What is it?" he asked. "Any new development?" Chilcote tried to smile. "Yes," he Bald huskily. "It's come." Loder freed his arm. "What? The end of the world?" Xo. The end of me." The words wme jerkily, the strain that had enforced them showing in every syllable. Still Loder was uncomprehending. He could not or would not understand. Again Chilcote caught and jerked at his sleeve. "Don't you see? Can't you Bee?" "No." Chilcote dropped the sleeve and passed his handkerchief .'cross his forehead. "It's come," he repeated. "Don't you understand? I want you." He drew away, then stopped back again anxiously. "I know I'm taking you unawares," he said. "But it's not my fault. On my soul. It's not! The thing seems to spring at me and grip me" He stopped, sinking weakly into a chair. For a moment Loder stood erect and Immovable. Then, a!ui6x -with reluctance, his glance turned to the figure beside him.' "You want me to take your place tonight, without preparation?" His voice was distinct and hrm, but it was free from contempt. "Yes; yes, I do." Chilcote spoke without looking up. "That you may spend the night in morphia this and other nights?" Chilcote lifted a flushed, unsettled face. "You have no right to preach. You accepted the bargain." Loder raised his head quickly. "I never" he began. Then both his face and voice altered. 'You are quite right," he said coldly. "You won't have to complain again." , Chilcote stirred uncomfortably.' "My dear chap-V he taJdn"L, meant no offense. It's 'merely" "Your nerves. I know. But come to business. What am I to do?" Chilcote rose excitedly. "Yes, business. Let's come to business. It's rough on you, taking you short like this. But you have an erratic person to deal with. I've had a horrible day a horrible day." His face had paled again, and in the green lamplight it possessed a grayish hue. Involuntarily Loder turned away. Chilcote watched him as he passed to the desk and began mechanically sorting papers. "A horrible day," he repeated, "so bad that I daren't face the night. Y'ou have read De Quincey?" he asked, with a sudden change of tone. "Yes." t'Then read him again and you'll understand. I have all the horrors without any art. I have no 'ladies of sor row, but I have worse monsters than his 'crocodile.' " He laughed unpleas antly. Loder turned. "Why, in the devil's name" he began; theu again he halted. Something in Chilcote's drawn, excited face checked him. - The strange sense of predestination thnt we sometiroes see in the eyes of another struck cold upon him, chilling his last attempt at remonstrance. "What do you want me to do?" he substituted in an ordinary voice. The words steadied Chilcote. He laughed a little. The laugh was still shaky, but it was pitched in a lower key. "You you're quite right to pull me up. We have no time to waste. It must he 1 o'clock." He pulled out his watch, then walked to the window and stood looking down into the shadowy court. "How quiet you are here!" he said. Then abruptly a new thought struck him, and he wheeled back into the room. "Loder," he said quickly Loder, I have an idea! While you are me, why shouldn't I be you? Why shouldn't I be John -Loder 'iwts'sd of the vagrant we contemplated? It covers everything; It explains everything. It's magnificent! I'm amazed we never thought of It before." "Loder was still beside the desk. "I thought of it," he said without looking back. -And didn't suggest VT "No." "Why?" Loder said nothing; and the other olored. "Jealous of your reputation?" he said satirically. "I have, none to be jealous of." Chilcote laughed disagreeably. "Then you aren't so far gone in philosophy as I thought. Y'ou have a niche in your own good opinion." , Again Loder was silent; then he smiled. "You have an oddly correct perception at times," he said. "I suppose I have had a lame sort of pride in keeping my name clean, but pride like that is out of fashion, and I've got to float with the tide." He laughed a short laugh that Chilcote had heard once or twice before, and, crossing tbe room, he stood beside his yis

Harper Brother

Iter. "After all." he said, "what business have I with pride, straight or lame? Have my identity, if you want it. When all defenses have been broken down one barrier won't save the town." Laughing again, he laid his hand on the other's arm. "Come," he said, "give your orders. I capitu late." An hour later the two men passed from Loder's bedroom, where the final arrangements had been completed, back Into the sitting " room. Loder came first in faultless evening dress. His hair was carefully brushed, the clothes he wore fitted him perfectly. To any glance, critical or casual, he was the man who had mounted the stairs and entered the rooms earlier In the evening. Chilcote's manner of walking and poise of the head seemed to have descended upon him with Chil cote's clothes. He came into the room hastily and passed to the desk. "I have no private papers," he said, "so I have nothing to lock up. Everything can stand as it i3. A woman named Robins comes in the mornings to clean up and light the fire; other wise you must shift for yourself. Nobody will disturb you. Quiet, dead quiet. Is about the one thing you can count on." Chilcote, half halting In the door way, made an attempt to laugh. Of the two he was noticeably the more embarrassed. In Loder's well worn, well brushed tweed suit he felt stranded on his own personality, bereft for the moment of the familiar accessories that helped to cloak deficiencies and keep the wheel of conventionality com fortably rolling. He stood unpleasant ly conscious of himself, unable to shape his sensations even in thought. He glanced at the fire, at the table, finally at the chair on which he had thrown his overcoat before entering the bedroom. At the sight of the coat his gaze brightened, the aimlessness forsook him, and he gave an exclama tion of relief. "By Jove!" he said. "I clean for"What?'' L:.ilnr looked round. "The rings." He crvJed to the coat and thrust his hand into ii"1. .pocket. "The duplicates arrived only this a lit noon the nick of time, eh?" He spoke fast, his fingers searching busily. Oc cupation of any kind came as a boon. Loder slowly followed him, and as the box was brought to light he leaned forward interestedly. "As I told you, one is' the copy of an old signet ring, the other a plain band a plain gold band like a weddin ring." Chilcote laughed as he placed the four rings side by side on his palm. "I could think of nothing else that would be wide and not ostenta tious. Y'ou know how I detest dis play.",--- - .-.......-..,.,-.-:,.,..-,;.,..,,..., Loder touched the rings. "You have good Taste," he said. "Let's see if they serve their purpose." He picked them up and carried them to the lamp Chilcote followed him. "That was an ugly wound," he said, his curiosity reawakening as Loder extended his finger. "How did you come by it?" The other smiled. "It's a memento, he said. "Of bravery?" "No; quite the reverse." He looked again at his hand, then glanced back at Chilcote. "No," he repeated, with an unusual Impulse of confidence. "It serves to remind me that I am not exempt that I have been fooled like other men.". . "That implies a woman?" "les." Again Loder looked at the scar on his finger. "I seldom recall the thing, it's so absolutely past. But I rather like to remember it tonight. I rather want you to know that I've been through the fire. It's a sort of guaran tee." Chilcote made a hasty gesture, but the other interrupted it. "Oh, I know you trust me. But you're giving me a risky post. I want you to see that women are out of my line quite out of it." "But, my dear chap" Loder went on without heeding. "This thing happened eight years ago at Santasalare," he said, "a little place between Luna and ristoria a mere handful of houses wedged between two hills; a regular relic of old Italy cram bling away under flowers and. sunshine, with nothing to suggest the present century except the occasional passing of a train round the base of one of the hills. I had literally stumbled upon the place on a long tramp south from Switzerland and had been tempted into a stay at the little inn. The night after my arrival something unusual occurred. There was an accident to the train at the point where it skirted the village. "There was a small excitement. All the inhabitants were anxious to help, and I took my share. As a matter of fact, the smash was not disastrous; the passengers were hurt and frightened, but nobody was killed." He paused and looked at his companion; but, seeing him interested, went on. "Among these passengers was an English lady. Of all concerned In the business, she was the least upset. When I came upon her she was sitting on the shattered door of one of the carriages calmly arranging her hat. On seeing me she looked up with the most charming smile imaginable. " I have just been waiting for somebody like you,' she said. 'My stupid maid has got herself smashed up somewhere in the second class carriages, and I have nobody to help me find my dog. ,"Ot course; that first speech nought to have enlightened me, but it didn't. I only saw the smile and heard the voice. I knew nothing of whether they were deep or shallow. - So I found the maid and found the yog. The first expressed gratitude, the other didn't. I extricated him with enormous difficulty from the wreck of the luggage van, and this

was how he marked his appreciation,

He held out his hand and nodded to ward the scar. Chilcote glanced up. "So that's the explanation?" "Yes. I tried to conceal the thing when I restored the dog, but I was .bleedinz abominably and I failed. Then the whole business was changed. It was I who needed seeing to, my new friend insisted; I who should be looked after and not she. She forgot the dog in the newer interest of my wounded finger. The maid, who was practically unhurt, was sent on to engage rooms at the little inn, and she and I followed slowlyv ; Jii -'- - . " - "That walk Impressed me. There was an attractive mistiness of atmosphere In the warm night, a sensation more than attractive in being made much of by a woman of one's own class and country after five years wandering." He laughed with a touch of irony. "But I won't take up your time with details. Y'ou know the progress of an ordinary love affair. Throw In a few more flowers and a little more sunshine than is usua!, a man who is practically a hermit and a woman who knows the world by heart and you have the whole thing. "She insisted on staying in Santasalare for three days in order to keep my finger bandaged. She ended by staj ing three weeks in the hope of smashing up my life. "On coming to the hotel she had given no name, and in our first explanations to each other she led ine to conclude her an unmarried girl. It was at the end of the three weeks that I learned that she was not a free agent, as I had innocently imagined, but possessed a husband whom she had left ill with malaria at Florence or Rome. "The news disconcerted me, and I took uo pains to hide It. After that the end came abruptly. In her eyes I had become a fool with middle class principles; in my eyes But there is no need for that. She left Santasalare the same night in a great confusion of trunks and hatboxes, and next morning I strapped on my knapsack and turned my face to the south." "And women don't count ever after?" Chilcote smiled, beguiled out of himself. Loder laughed. "That's what I've been trying to convey. Once bitten, twice shy!" He laughed again and slipped the two rings over his finger with an air of finality. "Now, shall I start? This is the latchkey?" He drew a key from the pocket of Chilcote's evening clothes. "When I get to Grosvenor square I am to find your house, go straight in, mount the stairs and there on my right hand will be the door of your I mean my ownprivate rooms. I think I've got it by heart. I feel inspired. I feel tL cant go wrong." ii - ... two remaining ri- of and picked "I'll stick on till I get a wire," he said. "Then I'll come back and we'll reverse again." He slipped on the coat and moved back toward the table Now that the decisive moment had come It embarrassed him. Scarcely knowing how to bring it to an end, he held out his hand. Chilcote took It, paling ' a little "'Twill be all right!" he said, with a sudden return of nervousness. " 'Twill be all right! And I've made it plain about about the remuneration? A hundred a week, besides all expenses Loder smiled again. "My pay? Oh, yes, you've made it clear as day. Shall we say good night now?" "Yes. Good night." There was a strange, distant note in Chilcote's voice, but the other did not pretend to hear it. He pressed the hand he was holding, though the cold dampness of It repelled him. , "Good night," he said again. "Good night." They stood for a moment awkwardly looking at each other, then Loder quiet ly disengaged his hand, crossed the room and passed through the door. Chilcote, left standing alone in the middle of the room, listened while the last sound of the other's footsteps was audible on the uncarpeted stairs. Then, with a furtive, hurried gesture, he caught up the green shaded lamp and passed into Loder's bedroom. CHAPTER VIII. O all men come portentous moments, difficult moments, triumphant moments. Loder had had his examples of all three, T but no moment in his career ever equaled in strangeness of sensation that in which, dressed in another man's clothes, he fitted the latchkey for the first time into the door of the other man's house. The act was quietly- done. The key fitted the lock smoothly, and his fingers turned it without hesitation, though - his heart, usually extremely steady, beat sharply for a second. The hall loomed massive and somber, despite the modernity of electric lights. It was darkly and expensively dec orated in black and brown; a frieze of wrought bronze, representing peacocks with outspread tails, ornamented the walls; the banisters were of heavy ironwork, and the somewhat formidable fireplace was of the same dark metal. Loder looked about him, then ad yanced, his heart again beating quick ly as his hand touched the cold ban ister and he began his ascent of the stairs. But at each step his confi dence strengthened, his feet became more firm until, at the head of the stairs, as if to disprove his assurance, his pulses played him false once more. this time to a more serious tune. From the farther end of a well lighted cor ridor a maid was comins straieht in his direction. For one short second all things seemed to whiz about him; the certainty, of . detection overpowered his n Indisputable knowledge that he was" John Loaer ana no .other. despite all armor of effrontery and dress, so dominated him that all other considerations shrank before it. It wanted but one word, one simple word of denunciation, and the whole scheme was shattered. In the dismay of the moment he almost wished that the word might be spoken and the sus pense ended. But the maid came on in silence, and so incredible was the silence that Loder moved onward too. He came within a yard of her, and still she did not speak. Then, as he passed her, she drew back respectfully against the wzlL

fie Richmond Palladium, Wednesday, October 24,. 1906

j.ne strain, so astouisumgiy suon, had been immense, but with its slack- f ening came a strong reaction. The ex pected humiliation seethed suddenly to a desire to dare-fate. Pausing quickly, he turned and called the wo man back. The spot where he had halted was vividly bright, the ceiling light being Loder bore his scrutiny without flinching. directly above his head, and as she came toward him he raised his face de liberately and waited. She looked at him without surprise or interest. "Yes, sir?" she said. "Is your mistress in?" he asked. He could think of no other question, but it served his purpose as a test of his voice. Still the woman showed no surprise. "She's not in, sir," she answered. "But she's expected in half an hour." "In half an hour? All right. That's all I wanted." With a movement of decision Loder walked back to the stair head, turned to the right and opened the door of Chilcote's rooms. The door opened on a short, wide passage. On one side stood the study, on the other the bed, bath and dressing rooms. With a blind sense of knowledge and unfamiliarity, bred of much description on Chilcote's part, he put his hand on the study door and, still exalted by the omen of his first success, turned the handle. Inside the room there was firelight and lamplight and a studious air of peace. The realization of this and a slow Incredulity at Chilcote's voluntary renunciation were his first impressions. "" .Z .!'"'?. attention was needed for more imminent things. As he entered the new rretary was returning a volume to Its pi-": on the book shelves. At sight of him L : flushed it hastily into position and turn?d round. "I was making a few notes on the political position of Khorasan," he said, glancing with slight apprehensiveness at the other's fate. He was a small, shy man, with few social attainments, but an extraordinary amount of learn ing the antithesis of the alert Bless ington, whom he had replaced. Loder bore his scrutiny without flinching. Indeed, it struck him sud denly that there was a fund of inter est, almost of excitement, m the encountering of each new pair of eyes. At the thought he moved Jforward to the desk. "Thank you. Greening," he said. "A very useful bit of work." The secretary glanced up, slightly puzzled. His endurance had been severely taxed in the fourteen days that he had filled his new post. "I'm glad you think so, sir," he said, hesitatingly. "Y'ou rather pooh pooh ed the matter this morning, if you remember." Loder was taking off his coat, but stopped in the operation. "This morning?" he said. "Oh, did I? Did I?" Then struck by the opportunity the words gave him he turned toward the secretary. "You've got to get used to me, Greening," he said. "You haven't quite grasped me yet, I can see. I'm a man of moods, you know. Up to the present jou've seen my slack side, my jarred side, but I have quite another when I care to show it. I'm a sort of Jekyll and Hyde affair." Again he laughed, and Greening echoed the sound diffidently. Chilcote had evidently discouraged familiarity. Loder eyed him with abrupt understanding. He recognized the loneliness in the anxious, conciliatory "manner. . "You're tired," he said kindly. "Go to bed. I've got some thinking to do. Good night." He held out his hand. Greening took it, still half distrust ful of this fresh side to so complex a man. "Good night, sir," he said. "Tomor row, if you approve, I shall go on with my notes. I hope you will have a restful night." For a second Loder's eyebrows went up. but he recovered himself instantly. "Ah, thanks, Greening," he said. "rnanKS. 1 tninlt, your hope win be fulfilled." He watched the little secretary move softly and apologetically to the door, then he walked to the fire and, resting his eibows on the mantelpiece, he took his face in his hands. For a space he stood absolutely quiet, then his hands dropped to his sides, and he turned slowly round. In that short space he had balanced things and found his bearings. The slight nervousness shown in his brusque sentences and overconfident manner faded out, and he faced facts steadily. With the return of his calmness he took a long survey of the room. His glance brightened appreciatively as It traveled from the walls lined with well bound books to the lamps modulated to the proper light; from the lamps to the desk fitted with every requirement. Nothing was lacking. All he had once possessed, all he had since dreamed of, was here, but on a greater scale. To enjoy the luxuries of life a man must go long without them. Loder had lived severely so severely that until three weeks ago he had believed himself exempt from the temptations of humanity. Then the voice of the world had spoken, and within him another voice had answered with a tone , so

clamorous- ana insistent that it naa outcried his surprised and incredulous wonder at its existence and its claims. That had been the voice of suppressed ambition, and now as he stood in the new ; atmosphere a newer voice lifted

itself. The joy of material things rose suddenly, overbalancing the last rem nant of the philosophy he had rearedHe saw all things in a fresh light the soft carpets, the soft lights, the numberless pleasant, unnecessary things that color the passing landscape and oil the wheels of life. This was power power made manifest. The choice bindings of one's books, the quiet harmony of one's surroundings. the gratifying deference of one's de pendentsthese were the visible, the outward signs, the thing she had forgotten. Crossing the room slowly, he lifted and looked at the different papers on the desk. They had a substantial feel ing, an importance, an air of value They were like the solemn keys to so many vexed problems. Beside the pa pers were a heap of letters neatly arranged and as yet unopened. He turned them over one by one. They were all thick and interesting to look at He smiled as he recalled his own scanty mail envelopes long and bulky or narrow and thin, unwelcome manu scripts or very welcome checks. Having sorted the letters, he hesitated. It was his life task to open them, but he had never in his life opened an envel ope addressed to another man. He stood uncertain, weighing them in his hand. Then all at once a look of attention and surprise crossed his face, and he raised his head. Some one had unmistakably paused outside the door which Greening had left ajar. There was a moment of apparent doubt, then a stir of skirts, a quick, uncertain knock, and the intruder entered. For a couple of seconds she stood In the doorway; then as Loder made no effort to speak she moved into the room. She had apparently but just returned from some entertainment, for, though she had drawn off her long gloves, she was still wearing an evening cloak of lace and fur. That she was Chilcote's wife Loder mstinctively realized the moment she entered the room. But a disconcerting confusion of ideas was all that followed the knowledge. He stood by the desk, silent and awkward, trying to fit his expectations to his knowledge. Then, faced by the hopelessness of the task, he turned abruptly and looked at her again. She had taken off her cloak and was standing by the fire. The compulsion of moving through life alone had set its seal upon her in a certain self possession, a certain confidence of pose, jet her figure as Loder then saw it, backgrounded by the dark books and gowned in pale blue, had a suggestion of youthfulness that seemed a contradiction. The remembrance of Chilcote's epithets "cold" and "unsympathetic" came back to him with somethins like astonishment. He felt no unc. "tainty, no dread of discovery and humiliation in her presence as he had felt in the maiX yet there was something in her face that made him infinitely more uncomfortable, a look he could find no name for, , a friendliness that studiously covered another feeling, whether question, distrust or ac tual dislike he could not say. With a strange sensation of awkwardness he sorted Chilcote's letters, waiting for her to speak. As if divining his thought she turn ed toward him. "I'm afraid I rather intrude," she said. "If you are busy" His sense of courtesy was touched. He had begun life with a high opinion of women, and the words shook up an echo of the old sentiment. "Don't think that," he said hastily. "I was only looking through my letters. Y'ou mustn't rate yourself below letters." He was conscious that his tone was hurried, that his words were a little jagged, but Eve did not appear to notice. Unlike Greening, she took the new manner without surprise. She had known Chilcote for six years. "I dined with the Fraides tonight," she said. "Mr. Fraide sent you a message." Unconsciously Loder smiled. There was humor in the thought of a message to him from the great Fraide. To hide his amusement he wheeled one of the big lounge chairs forward. "Indeed," he said. ".Won't you eit down?" They were near together now, and he saw her face more fully. Again he was taken aback. Chilcote had spokea of her as successful and intelligent, but neer a beautiful. Yet-hor beautv was a rare and uncommon fact, la or hair was black not a glossy black, but the dusky black that is softer than any brown her eyes were large and of a peculiarly pure blue, and her eyelashes were black, beautifully curved and of remarkable thickness. "Won't you sit down?" he said again. cutting short his thoughts with some confusion. "Thank you." She gravely accepted the proffered chair. But he saw that without any ostentation she drew her skirts aside as she passed him. The action displeased him unaccountably. "Well," he said shortly, "what hac Fraide to say?" He walked to tht Mantelpiece with his customary move uent and stood watching her. The In stinct toward hiding his face had left lim. Her instant and uninterested ac ceptanee of him almost nettled him lis own half contemptuous ImpressSoe if Chilcote came to him unpleasantly ad with it the first desire to assert hi:. ;wn individuality. Stung by the con licting emotions, he felt in Chilcote i sockets for something to smoke. Eve saw and interpreted the action. Are these your cigarettes?" She lean-' -d toward a small table and took up a ox made of lizard skin. "Thanks." He took the box from ser, and as it passed from one to tht ;her he saw her glance at his rings. he glance was momentary. Her lips arted to express question or surprise, ian closed again without comment lore than any spoken words the indent e ho wed him the gulf that sepaated husband and wife. "Well," he said again, "what about "raide?" At his words she sat straighter and joked at him moredirectly, as if brac:ig herself to a task. "Mr. Fraide is is as Interested as ver in you," she began. "Or in you?" Loder made the lntercption precisely as he felt Chilcote rould have made it. Then instantly ha fished the .words back. . J J

A BOLD STEP. To overcome the 7eli-grounded and reasonable objections of th more intelligent to the use of secret, medicinal compounds, Dr. R. V. Pierce, of Buffalo, N. V., some time ago, decided to mate a bold departure from the usual course pursued by the makers of put-up medicines for domestic use, and so has published broadcast and openly to the whole world, a full and complete list of all the ingredients entering into the composition of his widely celebrated medicines. Thus he has taken his numerous patrons aud patients into his full conSdence. Thus too he has absolutely and completely removed his medicines from amonj secret nostrums of doubtful merits, and made them Remedies cf Known Composition, They are now in a class all by themselvesbeing absolutely and in every sense Non-secret. By th& bold step Dr. Pierce has shown that his formulas are of such excellence that he is not afraid to subject them to the fullest scrutiny.

So many false formulas and malicious statements concerning his medicines had been published through the connivance of jealous competitors and disgruntled doctors, that Dr. Pierce determined to completely disarm his assailants by a full and frank statement of their exact composition, verifying the same under oath as complete ana correct. This he has done and to the complete discomfiture of those who had assailed his good name as well as the well-earned reputation of his worldfamed medicines. Not onlv does the wrapper of every bottle of Dr. Pierce's Golden Medical Discovery, the famous medicine for weak stomach, torpid liver or biliousness and all catarrhal diseases wherever located, have printed upon it, in plain English, a full and complete list of all the ingredients composing it, but a small book has been compiled from numerous standard medical works, of all the different schools of practice, containing very numerous extracts from the writings of ltading practitioners of medicinet endorsing in the strongest possible tenim. each and every ingred ient contain in Dr. Pierce's medi cines. One of Cb.ese little books will be, mailed free tolanv one sending addres on postal canlor bv letter, to Dr. K Pierce, Buffaki Y., and requjfng the same. FrAn this booklet it be learned that Dl Pierce's medicifs contain no alcliol, narcoticsinineral agents or othel poisonous jfr injurious agents and that they atinade from native, medicinA roots jtf great value; also that some ohe uyst valuable ingredients containeitwyDr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription for weak, nervous, over-worked, "run-down," nervous and debilitated women, were employed, long years ago by the Indians for similar ailments affecting their squaws. In fact, one of the most valuable medicinal plants entering into the composition of Dr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription was known to the Indians as " Squaw-Weed." Our knowledge of the uses of not a few of our most valuable native, medicinal plants was gained from the Indians. As made up by improved and exact processes, and with the use of specially designed chemical apparatus, the "Favorite Prescription" is a most efficient remedy for regulating all tbe womanly functions, correcting displacements, as prolapsus, ante version and retroversion, overcoming painful periods, toning up the nerves and bringing about a perfect 6tate of health. tive's warm skin coiorea more deeply. For a second the Inscrutable underlying expression that puzzled him jhowed in her eyeJb.iiesauk, back into a corner of the chair. "Why do you make such a point of sneering at my friends?" she asked quietly. I overlook it when you are nervous." She halted slightly on the word. "But you are not nervous tonight." Loder, to his great humiliation, reddened. Except for an occasional outburst on the part of Mrs. Robins, his charwoman, he had not merited a woman's displeasure for years. "The sneer was unintentional, he said. For the first time Eve showed a personal interest. She looked at him in a puzzled way. "If your apology was meant." she said hesitatingly, "I should be glad to accept it." Loder, uncertain of how to take the words, moved back to the desk. He carried an unlighted cigarette between his fingers. There was an interval In which neither spoke. Then at last, conscious of its awkwardness. Eve rose. With one hand on the back of her chair she looked at him. "Mr. Fraide thinks it's such a pity that" she stopped to choose her words "that you should lose hold on things lose interest in things as you are doing. He has been thinking a good deal about you in the last three weeks, ever since the day of your your Illness la the lfouse, and it seems to him" again she broke off, watching Loder's avert'111 thUih rer said," he ed head "it ms tarfTm that if you made one n ffor now, even now, to shake off yo lessness that you your health light Drove file thifcks that the present is would be'!she hesitated "would dous opportunity. ve yod a tjmenour tmSeiaxerests, bound upas they are 1 rersia, ight hold would give syr opinion yo' a double weighs." Almost unconsciously a touch of warmth crept Into her words. "Mr. Fraide talked very seriously about the beginning of your career. He said that Jf only the spirit of your first days coiild come back" Her fone erew cuicker. as though she fear-

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The exact proportion of the several ingredient used in these medicines, as well as the working formula and peculiar processes, apparatus and appliances emploved in their manufacture, are withheld from oublicitv that Dr. Pierce'a proprietary rignta may not be infringed and trespassed upon by unprincipled imitators and those who maybe piratically inclined. Dr. John Fyfe, of SaugatucV, Conn., Editor of the Department of Therapeu-,,-tics in The Electric Review says of Unicorn root (Iltlonias Dioiea) ona-ol the chief ingredients of Dr. PiercH Favorite Prescription: " A remedy which invariably acts as a uterine iigorator and always favors a coniion which makes for nrmal activity Of the entire reproductive system, vfinot fail to ba of great usefulness r4 of the utmost importance to theneral practitioner ot medicine." . " Helonias j&r fullv answers the above punjses than any other drug tcith tchiytl am acquainted. In the treatmvcof diseases peculiar to women it is j&iaova. that a case is seen which doeyhot present some indication for remedial agent," "The following are among the lead ing indications lor Melon lae: run or aching in the back, with leucorrhea; atonic (weak) conditions of the reproductive organs of women, mental depression and irritability, associated with' chronic diseases of the reproductive organs of women, constant sensation of heat in the region of the kidneys: menorrhagia, ("flooding") due to a weakened condition of the reproductive system; amenorrhea, arriaing from. or acconapanving an abnormal condition of th digestive organs and an anemic (thin blood) habit; dragging sensations in the extreme lower part of tbe abdomen." If more or less of the above symptom are present, no Invalid iromcn can do better than take Dr. Pierce's Favorite Prescription, which Is rich In atf tbe medicinal properties of Unicom roat or'Helania. MIS' JLSD WOMXX should ave a medical book handy. Ther should know about anatomy and physiology. ' They should have a book that treats of the sexologlcat relations of the sexes as well as how and when to advise son and daughter. Has aneqvaied endorsement of the presa, ministry, legal and medical professions. A standard work f the People's Common Hense Medical Adviser, by li. V. Pierce, M. D. Send 31 one-cent stamps for the cioth-bonnd book, or 21 stamps for the paper-covered volume Address Doctor JEL V. Piexca, Buffalo, N. Y. J ed ridicule In Loders siience. -am asked me to use my Influence. I know that I have little none, perhaps but I promised." "And have kept the promise?" Loder spoke at random. Her manner and her words had both affected him. There was a sensation of unreality in his brain. 4 "Yes," she answered. 'I always want to do what I can." . "As she spoke a sudden realization af the effort she was making struck upon him. and with it his scorn of Chilcote rose In renewed force. "My Intention" he began, turzrhg to her. Then the futility of anVdec? Iaration silenced him. "I shop think over what you say," he addeafter a minute's wait. "I suppose can't sayj more than that." Their eyes met and sbsmlled a lit tie (To Be Continued.) Artificial gas le 20th Century fuel. 10-tf , Palladium Want Ads Pay. has some good vahJ In Real Estate. Rents cVjted and every attention given Vne property. THE CHISAGO, CINCINNATI & UISVILLE R.R. (TOT MEw WAV) EAST BOTJN1

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Lenre Richmond OS 4 00 T 63 - f!otUMT5rOV..... 45 4 40 8 Si ,rrt Cincinnati Jf 11 20 6 10 10 14 Arrives from tbe ast. i A. x. fwSM. i p. La-v Cincinnati. ... 8 40 4 00 S 91 - Cot tag Grow.. M.. 10 10 .6 30 8 19 Arrlv Richmond 10 45 6 88 8 tA

r.M sec 19 ia Leave Richmond . j &4 Muncle... it Arrive Marios 11 is Pera. " o ninth .J 4 Arrlvevfrom tn ' r,eave Chicag.. tjcnrm Pern.......;. trrtve Richmond. "4 e ISM 4 44 761 Dally. tlMr except T. s BandaK amy. a Koa to uri aallr exeepl Sunday. The 14.45 am. train ro lehmond makes urect connection at th wita Grand rrunk lorCnicajo, arrtvt All east-bound trains m K Chicago 7. tn ke dtreetMoaeM 'Aon at Cottage Orove Ui C H. D. tot oxJora. tiamiiun,ubri .Counersrllleand Kuiomir. For farther In forma cd tx&ia cuoiiuuna, t rates regarding Km B LA IV. OllK end Ticket. Ao

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