The Syracuse Journal, Volume 4, Number 18, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 31 August 1911 — Page 3

SERIAL STORY CX

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By JACQUES FUTRELLE Hlujtrationj by M. KLTI N cR

Copyright IMS. bv Tbe Associated Sunday Magazine* Coryright. 1903, by The Eobbs-llerrill Compauy. SYNOPSIS. ,Count di Kosini, the Italian ambassador. is at dinner with diplomats in the national capital whan a messenger bringsi a note directing him to come to the embassy at once. Here a beautiful young woman asks that she be given « a ticket to the embassy ball. The ticket is made out in the name of Miss Isabel Thorne. Chief Campbell of the secret service, and Mr. Grimm, his head detective, are warned that a plot of the Latin races against the English speaking races is brewing .in Washington, and Grimm goes to the state ball for information. In a conservatory his attention is called to Miss Isabel Thorpe. CHAPTER lll.—(Continued.) Senorita Rodriguez laughed, and Mr. Grimm glanced idly toward Mjss Thorne. She was still talking, her [ace alive with interest; and the fan was still tapping rhythmically, steadily, nbw on the arm of her chair. “Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dct! Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot!” “Pretty women who don’t want to be stared at should go with their faces swathed,” Mr. Grimm suggested, indolently. “Haroun el Raschid • there would agree with me on that point, I have no doubt. What a shock he would get if he should happen up at Atlantic City for a week-end in August!" “Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot!” Mr. Grimm read it with perfect understanding; it was “F —F —F” in the Morse code, the call of one operator to another. Was it accident? Mr. Grimm wondered, and wondering, he went on talking lazily: » • “Curious, isn’t it, the smaller the nation the more color it crowds into the uniforms of its diplomats? The British ambassador, you will observe, is clothed sanely and modestly, as befits the representative of a great natio \ but coming on down byway of Spah and Italy, they get more gorgeous. However, I dare say as stout a heart beats beneath a sky-blue sash as behind the embellished black of evening dress.” “F —F—F,” the fan was calling sistentlyAnd then the answer came. It took the unexpectedly prosaic form of a Violent sneeze, a vociferous outburst in a bench directly behind Mr. Grimm. Senorita Rodriguez jumped, then laughed, nervously. “It startled me,” she explained. “I think there must be a draft from the conservatory,” said a man’s voice apologetically. “Do you ladies feel it? No? Well, if you’ll excuse me—?” v Mr. Grimm glanced back languidly. The speaker was Charles Winthrop Rankin, a brilliant young American lawyer who was attached to the German embassy in an advisory capacity. Among other things he was a Heidelberg man, having spent some dozen years of his life in Germany, where be established Influential connections. Mr. Grimm knew him only by sight. And now the rhythmical tapping of Miss Thorne’s fan underwent a change. There was a flutter of gaiety In her voice the while the ivory fan tapped steadily. “Dot-dot-dot! Dash! Dash-dash dash! Dot-dot-dash! Dash!” “S—t—s—u —t,” Mr. Grimm read in Morse. He laughed pleasantly at some remark of his companion. “Dash dash! Dot-dash! Dash-dot!” said the fan. “M —a—n,” Mr. Grimm spelled it out, the while his listless eyes roved aimlessly over the throng. “S—t —s—■ u—t m—a —n!” Was it meant for “stout man?” Mr. Grimm wondered. “Dot-daslbdot! Dot! ' Dash-dot dot!” “F —e—d,” that was. “Dot-dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash! Dash-dot-dash-dot! Dot!” “Q —a —J—e!” Mr. Grimm was puzzled a little now, but there was not a wrinkle, nor the tiniest indication of perplexity in his face. Instead he be; Ran talking of Raphael’s cherubs, the remark being called into life by the high complexion of a young man who was passing. Miss Thorne glanced at him keenly, her splendid eyes fairly aglow, and the fan rattled on in the code. “Dash-dot! Dot! Dot-dash! Dot-dash-dot!” “N—e—a—f.” Mr. Grimm was still spelling it out. Then came a perfect jumble. Mr. Grimm followed it with difficulty, a difficulty utterly belied by the quizzical lines about his mouth. As he caught it, it was like this: “J—s—n— I— e—f—v—a—t —s—f,”5—f,” followed by an arbitrary signal which is not in the Morse code: “Dash-dot-dash-dash!” Mr. Grimm .carefully stored that Jumble -awa/ in some recess of his brain, along with the unknown signal. “D—s —s—f,” ne read, and then, on la the end:: “B—f —i—n g 5—v —e— w—-n g g—s—e—8,”

That was all, apparently. The soft clatter of the fan against the arm of the chair ran on meaninglessly after that. “May I bring you an ice?” Mr. Grimm asked at last. “If you will, ’please,” responded the senorita, “and when you come back I’ll reward you by presenting you to Miss Thorne. You’ll find her charm- : ing; and Mr. Cadwallader has monopolized her long enough.” Mr. Grimm bowed and left her. He had barely disappeared when Mr. Rankin lounged along in front of Miss Thorne. He glanced at her, paused i and greeted her effusively. “Why, Miss Thorne!” he exclaimed. “I’m delighted to see you here. I understood you would not be present, and —” Their hands met in a friendly clasp as she rose and moved away, with a nod of excuse to Mr. Cadwallader. A thin slip of paper, thrice folded, passed from MJr. Rankin to her. She tugged at her glove, and thrust the little paper, still folded, inside the palm. “Is it yes, or no?” Miss Thorne asked in a low tone. “Frankly, I can’t say,” was the reply- j “He read the message,” she explained hastily, “and now he has gone to decipher it.” She gathered up her trailing skirts over one arm, and together they glided away through the crowd to the strains of a Strauss waltz. [ . < - “I’m going to faint in a moment,” she said quite calmly to Mr. Rankin. “Please have me sent to .the ladies’ dressing-room.” “I he replied quietly. CHAPTER IV. The Fleeing Woman. Mr. Grimm went straight to i quiet nook of the smoking-room and there, after a moment, Mr. Campbell joined him. The bland benevolence of the chief's face was disturbed by the slightest questioning uplift of his brows as he dropped into a seat opposite Mr. Grimm, and lighted a cigar. Mr. Grimm raised his hand, and a servant who stood near, approached them. “An ice—here,” Mr. Grimm directed, tersely. The servant bowed and disappeared, and Mr. Grimm hastily scribbled something on a sheet of paper and handed it to his chief. “There is a reading, in the Morse code, of a message that seem? to be unintelligible,” Mr. Grimm explained. “I have reason to believe it is in the Continental code. You know the Continental—l don’t.”, Mr. Campbell read this: “Stsut man fed qaje neaf jsnsefatsf,” and then came the unknown, fL “N-e-a-f,” Mr. Grimm Was Spelling It Out. dash-dot-dash-dash. “That,” he explained; “is Y in the Continental code.” It went on: “dssf bfing over when g gses.” The chief read it off glibly: “Stout man, red face, near conservatory door. Bring over when G goes.” “Very well!” commented Mr. Grimm ambiguously. With no word of explanation, he rose and went out, pausing at the door to take the ice which the servant was bringing in. The seat where he had left Senorita Rodriguez was vacant; so was the chair where Miss Thorne had been. He glanced about inquiringly, and a servant who stood stolidly near the conservatory door approached him. “Pardon, sir, but the lady who was sitting here,” and he indicated the chai* where Miss Thorne had been sitting, “fainted while dancing, and the lady who was with you went along when she was removed to the ladies’ dress! ag-room, sir.” Mr. Grimm’s teeth closed with a little snap. „ “Did yew happen to notice any time this evenrug a stout gentleman, with red face, near the conservatory door?” he 'asked. The servant pondered a moment, then shook his head. “No, sir.” “Thank you.” Mr. Grimm was just turning away, when there came the sharp, vibrant a revolver, somewhere off to his left. The president! That was his first thought. One glance across the room to where the chief executive stood, in conversation with two other gentlemen, reassured him. The choleric blue eyes of the president had opened a little at the sound, then he calmly resumed the conversation. Mr. Grimm impulsively started toward the little group, but already a cordon was being drawn there—a cordon of quietfaced, keen-eyed men, unobtrusively forcing their way through the crowd. There was Johnson, and Hastings, and Blair, and half a dozen others. The rooih had been struck dumb. . Then dancers stopped, with tense, in-

quiring looks, and the plaintive whine of the orchestra, far away, faltered, then ceased. There was one brief instant of utter silence in which whitefaced women clung to the arms of their escorts, and the brilliant galaxy of colors halted- Then, after a moment, there came clearly through the stillness, the excited, guttural command of the German ambassador. “Keep on blaying, you tarn fools! Keep on blaying!” The orchestra started again tremulously. Mr. Grimm nodded a silent approval of the ambassador’s command, then turned away to his left, in the direction of the shot. After the first dismay, there was a general movement of the crowd in that direction, a movement which was checked by Mr. Campbell’s appearance upon a chair, with a smile on his bland face. “No harm done,” he called. “One of the officers present dropped his revolver, and it was accidentally discharged. No harm done.” There was a moment’s excited chatter, deep-drawn breaths of relief, the orchestra swung again into the interrupted rhythm, and the dancers moved on. Mr. Grimm went straight, to his chief, who had stepped down from the chair. Two other secret service men stood behind him, blocking the doorway that opened into a narrow hall. “This way," directed the chief tersely. Mr. Grimm walked along beside him. They skirted the end of the ballroom until they came to another door opening into the hall. Chief Campbell pushed it open, and entered. One of his men stood just inside. “What was it, Gray?” asked the chief. “Senor Alvarez of the Mexican legation, was shot,” was the reply. “Dead?” “Only woundedy He’s in that room,” and he indicated a door a little way down the hall. “Fairchild, two servants and a physician are with him.” “Who shot him?” “Don't know. We found him lying in the hall here.” Still followed by Mr. Grimm, the chief entered the room, and together they bent over the wounded man. The bullet had entered the torso just below the ribs on the left side. “It’s a clean wound,” the physician was explaining. “The bullet passed through. There’s no immediate danger.” Senor Alvarez opened his eyes, and stared about him in bewilderment; then alarm overspread his face, and he made spasmodic efforts to reach the inside breast pocket of his coat. Mr. Grimm obligingly thrust his hand into the pocket and drew out its contents, the while Senor Alvarez struggled frantically. “JUst a moment,” Mr. Grimm advised quietly. “I’m only going to let you see if it is here. Is it?” He held the papers, one by one, in front of the wounded man, and each time a shake of the head was his answer. At last Senor Alvarez closed his eyes again. (TO BE CONTINUED.) ANCIENT ISRAEL USED INK Writings of Bible Times Inscribed on Potsherds Have Been Found in Samaria. x .■ • “That the ancient Israelites had a cheap and easy method of sending writ- I ten messages which was In fairly common use is now an established fact.” | said George A. Reisner, assistant pro- ; fessor of Egyptology at Harvard, who for the last fourteen years has been conducting excavations in Egypt and Palestine. Professor Reisner just returned on the Campania. “We were excavating in Samaria, once capital of the northern kingdom of Israel, in 1908, when we came upon the palace of the Israelite kings. Last summer we found on the floorof one of the chambers of the palace .a number of potsherds and on these shards were written messages; they related to tithes or taxes paid to the king, and were written in an ink made of pure carbon or lampblack. These, perhaps, are the earliest specimens of Israelite work contemporaneous with the Bible. They were written in the reign of King Ahab.”—New York Evening Post Would Chase Cats. The other night a New York man visited friends in a New Jersey town where police dogs help the local force in routing out burglars. Thsse are highly trained. ( “In spite of that,” said the man, “Max, which I believe is considered the best of them, cannot be trained to leave a cat alone. His job is to •go around at night with a policeman and circle houses. If he finds a burglar at work he is trained to chase him out Into the open, where the policemen can get at him. But if Max finds a cat on his trip around a house it Is all off with his job. He chases that cat until pursuit is useless. I don’t know what he would do if he caught a cat, because he Is kept muzzled, but his nature tells him cats are to be worried and he annoys them all he can in spite of his trainring.” Rhodes’ Art Fad. Although Cecil Rhodes was a busy man he got time for a certain amount of reading. He made it a rule, although very fond of good pictures, never to buy-any for fear of developing a craze for collecting works of art, for with all his wealth he felt that he could not afford to spend so much money on a fad. The only famous painting that he owned was one by Sir Joshua Reynolds, supposed to represent a young married woman, which hung In the dining-room over the fireplace. As a boy he had taken a great fancy to the picture, and when he grew up and became rich he 1 bought It

F there is any field of publicspirited activity in the United States which stands out conspicuous above all others because of recent progress it is that which concerns itself with the betterment of our public highways. If anybody had predicted a few years back that the beginning of the second decade of the twentieth century would see so marked and widespread an Improvement of the public roads of the United States he would probably have been laughed at by all save those few

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enthusiasts who were looked upon until a short time ago as “cranks” This is not saying, mind you, that there is not much yet to be done to bring the highway system of this great land to the point where it ought to be and to maintain it there. We are still a very long way behind most of the countries of the old world —notably our sister republic of France—ln the condition of our roads. But that is perfectly natural, not because the foreigners are any better road builders than we are, but

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simply because their highways have been in the making for many centuries, whereas we have mighty few turnpikes that are more than one hundred or at most two hundred years old. .And furthermore on top of the youth of our country in road building there is the circumstance of the tremendous size of Uncle Sam’s domain.' No wonder the > Europeans have been able to have good roads when half or two-thirds as many people as we have in this whole vast country have been contributing their work and their taxes to keep up the roads in a territory no larger than one of our medium size states. But for all the lead given by time and the advantage of dense population it looks as though we would overtake our cousins overseas In the matter of the possession of good roads. Indeed, even now in some states, such as sections of Massachusetts, there are roads as fine as anything of similar character on the other side of the big pond. The secret pf this boom in road building in America lies in organization as well as agitation and the country is likely to see new fruits from both during the middle week of September when a “Good Roads Week” will be held throughout the United States. This week of “missionary work” is expected to stir up a goodly share of our people oh the question of good roads and It is hoped that some of the new converts and the old will that week practice what they preach to tbe extent of lending a hand to the building here and there of stretches of “model road” that will serve as convincing object lessons. “Good Roads Week” is going to be held in connection with the first annual convention of the American Association for Highway Improvement which will be held at Richmond, Vff., and will be addressed by many of the most prominent men in the country. This national organization will, of course, be much in the public eye in this connection, bur it is only one of scores of associations great and small that have been helping in this cause. Ther6 are state organizations and county organizations and even township organizations all over the country that have been supporting our national, state and municipal governments in what they have been doing for better roads, and the results attained prove what can be accomplished when a large number of people who are very much in earnest set out to all “pull to- J gether” toward a desired goal. A good many people.who have not looked very deeply into the subject have gained the idea that the motorists are more largely responsible than any other class of people for this dawning era of good roads. Now, it would not be right to disparage what the automobilists have done, which has been considerable in one way or another, but in the interest of the truth it must be pointed out that the one factor supreme in influence for better roads has been the wide-awake farmer. To be sure it is a fact, and a mighty significant one, that the largest and most powerful corporations in the country—business interests such as our biggest railroads and the steel trust and the Standard Oil corporation—are working energetically with the new American Association for Highway Improvement because they realize that anything that will help the condition of the country at large will help their business. At the same time it is She farmer class that are supplying the backbone of this movement just as they are of every other big movement affecting rural conditions and have been Thom time out of mind. It is jlist as well to admit right here, too, that the average farmer who is going in hard for the cause of better roads is not devoting his time and his labor to the project on any fanciful sentimental basis. Os course, it contributes to his pride to see his farm bounded or bisected by a splendid road and he is gratified that the good folk who go past his door pleasure riding should have an. easy pathway, but the great underlying impetus is found in the need ci good roads to enable the farmer to market his produce conveniently and economically.

CRUSADE

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The average old-time farmer was prone to look upon bad roads as a necessary evil. He realized in a sense what a detriment they were to his interests, but he put up with the situation because he did not see any way out of the dilemma —at least not without more work than he could afford to give. Then along came the United States government, when rural free delivery commenced to be introduced, and declared that these rural mail carriers could not be placed in districts where the roads were not in fair condition. This did much to awaken the farmers to the situation, for every rural home prizes the boon of a daily mail delivery. And, at about the same time the farmers, who thus had their serious attention focused upon the good roads question; found, as they looked closer, that bad roads meant a hole in the pocketbook of every tiller of the soil. It began to be realized that if a farmer required the services of four horses and an entire day’s time to get a load of produce to market via bad roads the loss to him was just as serious as though he had ito accept a very low price for the yield of his acres. Herein is found the supreme incentive among many that has enlisted the progressive farmer in behalf of better roads. One of the best things accomplished for the farmer by good roads is that it has broadened his markets. With rocky or muddy highways enforcing slow progress the average farmer was in the old days restricted to one market town —the one nearest his farm. Now with good roads he can in a shorter interval than was formerly, required reach any one of several communities located in different directions. This enables him to attain the market where he can get the best prices. Similarly with good roads the farmer is not likely to be so restricted to one railroad for shipping facilities. If the road nearest his farm will not give him the cars he needs or otherwise play fair be most likely has some redress by driving across the countryside to a rival line. And the very fact that the introduction of good roads is destroying such monopolies has served to render the railroads more obliging to their Tanner clients. The new country-wide Highway Improvement association which is to hold its first annual congress in the near future will not seek to drive out or supplant the various good-roads associations

that have been organized all over the country and many of which are, as has been said, doing an excellent work within a more or less local sphere. However, the new national institution is designed to serve as a clearing house that will pass on all good roads schemes wherever they htav originate and that will seek to bring together all the various local associations,' harmonizing their aims and policies where in the past they have too often been wox'king at cross purposes. The United States government is back of this new national organization upon which public attention is now being focused. Indeec, ba first president of' the body is I nele Sam’s chief expert on good roads—namely, Mr. Logan W. Page, director of the United States office of public roads. And just here it

should be noted that this public roads office—a branch of the United States department of agriculture—is doing a most important work for the cause of road improvement throughout the length and breadth of the land. For one thing, laboratories are maintained at Washington, specially equipped to ascertain which of these are best adapted to use in any specified locality or under any given conditions. Even more important is the work of the government bureau in building stretches of “model road.” 0 Under this plan of building model roads to serve as object lessons in the possibilities and benefits of highway improvements Uncle Sam sends his force of engineers and experts into any comijiunity which seems to need to be aroused regarding good roads and with their own helpers, or by means of a force of workmen recruited in the neighborhood they construct a mile or two miles of just the sort of road that is ideal for that particular district. How beneficial these object lessons are is proven by the fact that thousands of miles of good roads have been built in various parts of the country this past few years with these governmental “sample roads” as patterns. The showing made by rural roads “before and after” treatment by the government road doctors has prompted state legislatures, county commissioners, local boards of trade, farmers’ granges and other bodies to appropriate money for a more extensive good roads campaign in localities that have thus had a taste of the benefits, and in some states, notably Delaware, wealthy men have paid out of their own pockets for long stretches of improved public roads tor the use of the whole community. Busy Times in Minnesota Those in charge of digging the state drainage ditches complain that they cannot keep men because the farmers grab the laborers to work in the harvest fields, says the St. Paul Dispatch.. jA Minneapolis man with an automobile tells how he was snanghaied by those who wanted a machine in which to ride to and from their work as bu-glars. It would seem as though no one is safe it ,lhes« busy harvest times.