The Syracuse Journal, Volume 4, Number 42, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 15 February 1912 — Page 7

TSE Rl ALT [ STORY J I No Man’s I ■3 Land E™ A ROMANCE By Louis Joseph Vance H Illustrations by Ray Wallers (Copyright, isw, by Louis Joseph Vance.) 6 ’ SYNOPSIS. Garrett Coast, a young: man of News York City, meets Douglas Blackstock, who' Invites him to a card party. He accepts, although he dislikes Blackstock, the reason being that both are in love with Katherine Thaxter. Coast fails to convince her that Blackstock is unworthy of her friendship. At the party Coast meets two named Dundas and Van Tuyl. There is a quarrel;; and, Blackstock shoots Van Tuyl dead. Coast struggles to wrest the weapon front him, thus the police dissever them. Coast is arrested for murder. CHAPTER lll.—Continued.) "Well, so much for Blackstock — until tne police get wind of him, at all svents. They’re trying to locate him. by cable now; haven’t heard of any luccess that way, however. Naturally . . But a few days ago Dundas came to the surface,” Cods’ started violently. “Dundas!” “Um-jnm; fulh confession, exchlpatIng you, incripnirtating Blackstock. Corroborative Ueta'ftT: letters from 31ack3tock—altj that sort of thing, furthermore, Dundas told us why Jlackstock feared Van Tuyl: Van mew something—some dirty business llackstock had cooked up in the, west, mmaierial now; tell you later. Also Dundas took us to the shop where Blackstock bought that gun—salesman recalled the transaction. You remember how we failed to prove the gun his?” “Os course. Go on about Dundas.” ' “Well . . . it was Truax’s doing; nailed Dundas on the street one day, somewhere east of Third avenue. The man had been in hiding ever since Blackstock cleared out; he was tn a pretty bad way, broke and seedy; claimed Blackstock hadn’t sent him a dollar since he disappeared. So Dundas. thrown back upon his pen for a means of livelihood, went all to pieces; couldn’t work —had the trick—or wouldn’t; drank up all he could raise by pawning things. Thiot staked him to a meal ami drinks, plenty of drinks; and all that on an empty stomach made him maudlin. Confessed he was. keeping a conscience—remorse gnawing at his vitals —whatever those are —everything like that Then Truax bundled him into a taxi and brought him to my rooms. It was near midnight—got me out of bed; I caught a cold. However . . . I own it without compunction, we worked the poor devil through the third degree; simply browbeat and bullyragged him until I was ashamed of myself. But the truth oozed out finally, along with tears —whisky tears- We hadn’t ■tinted the bottle. ... • “As I say, In the end Dundas owned up to the whole filthy affair, Just as you told it—whimpered about selling his soul to Blackstock, price not deposed. We made him sign a brief confession, but I knew that wouldn’t be sufficient, and It was then too late and Dundas too far gone to do more with him. So I called tn a central office man I happened to know, and turned Dundas over to him to be taken to a Turkish bath and licked into shape; and it did the trick, with a hearty breakfast and plenty of black coffee for a chaser. He was pretty shaky next morning, but I coaxed him into a taxi and had him at the district attorney’s office before he knew what was up. There he wanted to hedge, but his signature to the overnight confession took all the starch out of him, and he went all over it again, with a Btenographer taking It down—typewritten deposition—all that sort of thing. . . . “Meanwhile my friend the detective had ransacked Dundas’ lodging—some cheap room just off the Bowery—and found a bundle of letters from Blackstock —mostly written during the trial, when they didn’t dare be seen together —hints and orders as to the evidence Dundas was to give. That settled it. Dundas was rushed before a magistrate and jailed and the grand jury was asked to indict him for perjury. The poor fool was scared silly, as soon as he realized what he had done—declared Blackstock would get him sooner or later. So he saved him the trouble —killed himself in his cell half an hour after being committed —had a phial of morphia secreted in his clothing . . .” After a pause Coast said slowly: “So Blackstock did’get’ him after all! That makes two at least—two we know of.” “Yes,” Warburton assented uneasily, worried by the hard expression that lined Coast’s mouth; “looked at that way, yes. . » . Well, we called your trial judge into consultation—the district attorney and I —and between the three of us drew up a petition for your pardon, the district attorney being the first to sign. 1 got off to Albany by the first train. There wasn’t the ' eMghtairt trouble: the governor grant-

led the pardon without a murmur. . . . And here we are.” “And here we are,” Coast repeated in a whisper. He was quiet for a time. . . “You know I can’t thank you, old man,” be said at length, rousing. Warburton’s fat little hand rested a moment lightly upon his shoulder. “You don’t have to. 1 feel too good about it myself. Always knew it would come out all right. Never lost faith in you, not for a second, Garrett” He rattled on. Coast listening by fits and snatches. He heard a little of this matter and that, heard less of more. He replied at times abstractedly. . . . Katherine Thaxter? Had she heard? All Coast’s thoughts focussed 'upon this: he must see her. . . . There came a pause, made awkward by a constraint in Warburton’s manner. Coast glanced at him inquiringly. The little lawyer licked his lips nervously. “There’s one thing,” he said, “you won’t like, perhaps.” Coast smiled. “I’m not in a mood for fault-finding. What is it?” “Os course, you know it’s desirable , to get Blackstock” “Well?” “You won’t be fully cleared, in the public mind at least, until he’s -convicted in your stead.” "That’s true enough.” “So we’re keeping it quiet, for the time being—the reasons for your release, I mean.” “Why? What’s the sense of that?” Coast demanded, excitedly. “You said ‘exoneration!’...” . . * “So it is, so it will be. But we don’t want to scare Blackstock. If he hears that Dundas has confessed, he’ll never be found. If we permit him to think, as the public will certainly think, that you are pardoned principally because of your social standing and ‘pull’ . . . then he won’t be so wary. You see? So we’re withholding the- real reason. Be patient; it will only be for a little while. And in the end it will be exoneration, absolute and unquestionable. Will you stand for this?” • Coast nodded somberly at the dull haze hanging over the sweltering city toward which they raced. “I presume I must,” he said wearily; “but it’s hard —thundering hard. ... I had hoped . . .’’ “I know, old boy.” Warburton’s hand touched his again. “But it’s for

_L L __ • V — ■ t . JL-Assl 77- f i: wfir W LJ L # ]>[ I The Sidewalk Throng Passed Him With Blank Looks.

the best —for your best Interests, believe me.” Coast’s chin sank despondently upon his breast. “I must go away for a time,” he said, or, rather muttered, his accents so soft that Warburton failed to distinguish them —“clear out for a time. . . .” They passed a corner news stand where a man stood with a paper outspread before him, the width of its front sheet occupied by headlines in huge black type, heralding the sensation of the hour. They who rode might read: GARRETT COAST PARDONED! AT THE ELEVENTH HOUR!!’ Coast shivered as if chilled and sank back, crouching, faint with dismay, in his corner of the tonneau. Publicity had him in its relentless clutches. At two in the afternoon the car stopped before the building on Nassau street in which Warburton had offices. Coast alighted, sick with fear of recognition. The sidewalk throng passed him with blank looks, the elevator boy had a copy of the blatant sheet and a star’e for Mr. Warburton’s client. In Warburton’s private room there was business to distract him; papers to be signed, details to be arranged, letters and telegrams of congratulation, already coming in by the score, to be opened and read. He was called on the telephone—Warbur-

. ton fully satisfying himself as to the caller’s identity before turning the I receiver over to Coast. His hope was . nipped with disappointment; it was . merely Truax calling to offer his felicitations and demand Coast’s presi ence at “a little dinner at the club — • just a few of us, all friends of yours; ’ I the hour, seven that night Mechanl ically Coast promised and rang off. t He was unable to refuse; in his heart i ■ he knew that he would be unable to go. ’ “What about my rooms?” he asked. > suddenly. ■ Warburton beamed. “They’re wait- • ing for you, everything Just as you left it. I kept track of both your old ’ servants; they’re there,, too. Just 1 walk in and hang up your hat.” Coast meditated. “That’s like you, I Dick,” he said. An office boy entered. “Reporter ■ from the Joinal wants to see Mister i Coast.” “I’ve left,” said Coast. i He thought soberly, frowning for a moment. “That puts my place out of I the question; they’ll swarm there.” “Yes,” agreed Warburton. • “I’ll put up at some hotel tonight.” “Made up your mind which?” “No; I’ll call you up when I’m set- ’ tied. . . . You’d better give me some money.” Warburton’s pudgy features con- i torted themselves to express chagrin: “The one thing I forgot!” “Then send somebody out for it.” “How much?” Warburton drew a cheque-book toward him. “A hundred?” A long pause prefaced Coast’s estimate. “Five thousand.” The lawyer whistled. “The devil you say! What d’you want with all that?” “How can I tell?” With a sigh and a shrug Warburton drew the check and rang for his head clerk. That person brought with him the information that representatives of the Times, the Sun and the Herald had foregathered with the Journal reporter in the outer office, and would not be denied. “Get the money,” said Warburton. “I’ll tend to the rest.” He made a sortie into the reception room and returned crestfallen. “I’ve lied like a trooper,” he confessed, “but they won’t budge. You were seen to enter; you haven’t been seen to I leave.”

“Then,” said Coast, “ITI stop here tonight." Warburton shook his head in cheerful dissent. “Not in the least necessary. I’ll fix you up all right. You can slip out into the hall by this door —l’ll make sure the coast’s clear, first —dodge round into the Liberty street corridor, and take the elevator there. You’re hardly liable to be recognized on either the subway or the L, if you’re careful. Make your own selec tion of a hotel and call me up at the club any time after five. Meanwhile I’ll send a boy to your rooms for whatever you want, and he’ll bring everything to you at any hour you name.” Coast smiled agreement “That’s a wonderful head you wear, Dick, but 1 doubt if your scheme will work; it’s too simple . . .” Its very simplicity made it practicable, however; and a little-after tout Coast made his escape precisely a. Warburton had planned. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Exactly 2:30 A. M. Arthur —“Why is it, fairest Evan geiine. that when 1 am with you the bands on that clock seem to take wings and tty?" Stern Voice (at the bead ot the stairs)—-“Without wish tn' to be impertinent, young man, I simply want to observe that them bands hain’t got nothin’ on the ones on our gas meter.”—<*udge. ♦

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DAINTY LINEN COVER CAN BE USED FOR PINCUSHION CASE OR A 3ACHET. Either In White With the Same Color of Ribbons or Blue or Pink Linen With Requisite Embroideries in Cotton. A white linen cover that can be used as a pincushion case or a sachet is made from white linen, scalloped, eye-letted and embroidered with a design or monogram on the top. Draw a circle ten inches In dlam- . eter and divide it on the edge into ' twelve points of compound scallops. Eacfi point consists of a top central scallop with two on each side of it making a slope of an inch and onehalf. The scallops should be about one-quarter of an inch deep. Three-quarterS of an inch from the lowest point of the scallop draw eyelets 24 to the circle, two to each point. In the center may go a fleur-de-lis, a spray of flowers, or a monogram, all to be worked in solid embroidery. Trace the pattern—which should be drawn on heavy paper—on a top of fine white linen. For the under side overlap two selvedges of the linen a half-inch and draw the circle on the two pieces as if one. This gives an opening at the middle of back when the cover is finished. A buttonhole is put in the middle of the upper lap and a button on the under one. Work the eyelets on the back with i white mercerized cotton and the central design and eyelets of the top. Baste the two pieces together and i buttonhole the scallop through the two thicknesses of linen. This makes the cover in one piece Instead of the j customary top and bottom laced toi gether. j Bun white or colored baby ribbon through the eyelets and tie in a manylooped bow at one side. For the satchet make a circular case of white muslin and fill with orris root or lavender. If the cover is used for a ! pin cushion, the cushion part is made ! from one and one-half-inch circles of satin stuffed with wool or bran, to ! be firm but rather fiat. These covers are dainty when kept wtirely white with white ribbon, but are pretty for a girl’s room made of blue or-pink linen embroidered in white mercerized cotton or in colored cottons on a white background. Fagoted White Bands. White organdie bands, with black jrgandie border? are smart and simple. These borders may be any depth. They may be blind stitched on a fold, iound with black, or the hem may be lagoted. In fagoting the bands are folded md collar and band are both basted io paper, leaving about a quarter inch ipace between. In fagoting, catch one »dge to the other. In putting a crepe band on the net, .■urn up the net on right side and baste closely. Cut crepe bias, fold on both edges toward the middle, double »ver like a milliner’s fold. Sew through the middle to net, covering raw edge if the band Is not on outride. Where the fold is wide, it may bave to be blind stitched on both Bdges to keep flat

FOR TRINKETS AND PINS an Here is a very handy pincushion and quite easy to make. The top of the box is well padded with cotton wool, and then covered with some pretty remnant of silk, fastened just inside the lid with glue. The sides of the box are covered in a like manner, and the interior is loosely lined with soft silk. Short ribbon strings chosen of a color to harmonize with that of the silk are fastened to the lid and front of the box, to secure It when closed. WARM WRAPS A NECESSITY Seeds of Disease Likely to Be Sown When Thio'lmportant Requirement la Neglected. 1 It is highly dangerous, to say the least of it, to come out of the heated atmosphere of a theater or private house, as so many of us do, and go Into the cold night air, or stand in a draught while a taxicab or car is being hailed, without being sufficiently clad. Thue too diaphanous a wrap should be avoided for winter use, and something warmer and more substantial should be worn. For this reason, therefore, one can-

WILL KEEP THE WATER HOT Cover for Jug Adds Much to the Com* fort of the Shaver in the Early Morning. A cover for the Jug that contains the hot water for shaving purposes is always a -useful article, but now that the cold weather is with us, It Is more than ever essential. We give, therefore, a sketch of a handy cover, that can be slipped over the jug after it has been filled, and that leaves the handle free, so that the Jug may be easily carried with the cover upon it Blanketing is perhaps the best mar terial to select to make It in, but any thick woolen fabric may be used. For the upper part of the cover two circular pieces rather larger than the top of the Jug should be cut out and sewn together, and between these two pieces either, a stiff piece of cardboard or a piece of tin should be sewn in to stiffen them. The steam from the hot water will in time soften card'""■s Whaviw board, so that tin should be used tor preference, and a piece-cut from the top of a meat tin will answer the pur- I pose. To this, the remaining part of . the cover is easily attached, and a ( slit left’upon one side for the handle. ; For appearance sake the seam ! round the top may be edged with cord, and a loop of tape should be sewn on where indicated for removing the cosy from the jug, and the words “Shading Water” can be worked in colored wool upon one side. A double thickness of materia) should be used throughout, and the base and the slit for the handle bound at the edges with braid chcsen ot the same color as wool and cord. Evening Frocks. Authorities are divided on one important item —the length of evening frocks. In spite of the fact that most of the new models this year are made with a 10 or 12 inch poinied train, one of the greatest Paris houses shows a majority of its new evening gowns with the short skirt just Instep length. Since there is a division of opinion among the great originators of fashion, it would seem that each young woman may choose for herself as to whether she will cling to the youthful round-length trained effects worn by the older women. Some wonderful new black jet trimmings are used thia season, and white and colored spangles, bugles and brilliants are strongly in evidence. A black velvet evening frock, cut en surplice, has the deep V yoke of cream-white maline lace. This corsage is outlined with a narrow row of brilliants and trimmed with a cut jet motif which extendi down into the skirt to the lower edge —Harper’s Bazar.

act Improve on velvet as a material tc make our evening wraps of, and thia is equally successful in a dark color, such as black bordered with white, old blue with sable or marten, and geranium, cerise pink or scarlet fox or skunk, which are among a variety of combinations which contrast admirably, and should be selected with a view of best suiting the color Ing of the wearer. Mourning Bags. Square, flat wristbags of black mat leather, with metal fastenings of blackened silver, are smart for half mourning street costumes. For mourning in the first stage, if a bag be car ried at all, it must be made of the material of the gown, or of black English crepe. When the black-and-white stage ol mourning is reached, there is no end to the pretty chains and belts and shoe buckles of crystal and jet combined. Black and white enamel combined are wrought into tempting orna ments suitable for half mourning. New Work. A new and engaging set of fancy work is the crocheting of chain mesh bags in gold, silver or other metal threads. The top of the bag Is finished in a shell or plcot stitch, and if a very elaborate affair Is desired the same decoration is used at the sides and lower edge. It is doubtful, howJver, if the extra frills are an imrovement. The finished product is lined with satin and drawn up by a cord and tassel. Candle shades and other “Frenchy” little things are evolved in the same way, and those who become adepts in the art are never at a loss for gifts.

‘mt SYSTEM THAT WORKED WELL Peddler Who Had Climbed to Sixth Floor of Apartment Found Scheme That Worked Smoothly. Wilbur C. Phillips, the child welfare worker, tells a story to show how •ystematized work will usually bring the desired end. A peddler climbed to the sixth floor of an apartment house in an attempt to Sell his wares. The first man he met he insisted should buy seme of bis goods.. Finally he made himself inch a nuisance that the unfeeling tenant of the apartment picked him up ind threw him down the next stairs. A man standing on the fifth floor, hearing the racket, glanced up and took in the situation. When the pedller came crashing down to the fifth floor this man picked him up and (brew him down the next stairs. A man standing on the fourth floor • helped the peddler on by -throwing : him down the next flight. This con- ' tinued until the poor peddler finally . Landed on the first floor with a crash. I • “Gee! but they got some system up - there,” he said ruefully as he picked himself up and walked painfully out into the street. His Handicap. “You don’t mean to tell me that j frumpish looking little woman is his i wife.?” I “Yes.” ‘‘How in the world did a man with ( his taste ever happen to pick out such a person for a life-partner?” “They say she is very clever —writes most of his speeches. I believe she was a school teacher before their marriage.” “Dear me Isn’t it to bad? Think what a place he might have won if he had married a woman with ityle and a family that amounted to wmething back of her.” Too Original. “Here,” said the theatrical manager, “this will never do.” “What’s the matter?” the trembling playwright inquired. “You have a bad man in youn=play —an insidious villain.” “Yes. But nearly every play has to have a rogue of some kind it it.” “That’s all right. But you have neglected to give your rogue the name of Blake. Are you trying to destroy he traditions of the drama?” Mental Development. “How are your youngsters doing at ichool?” “Finely,” replied Mr. Cumrox; “they have already progressed far enough to discover that my education is rathw deficient.” VERY DECOLLETE.’ Or Tom (at the ball) —You’ve given me the cold shoulder tonight Tess —The other shoulder is no warmer. Still at the Foot. “In school he was always at the foot of his class.” “Well, what about it?” “Nothing, only he’s earning his living as a shoe salesman.” Wanted Hie Fee. “What did your lawyer friend say when you asked him for his daughter?” “He refused to answer any question without a retainer.” —Satire. First Hand Knowledge. “Here comes my new papa.” “That man? He isn’t so many." “How do you know?” “He used to be my papa.”—Judge. Reflection. “Since Nellie’s engagement how bright and happy she looks.” “Yes; a match does light up a girl’s lace so.’’—Judge*

FEW POLICEMEN IN BOSTON New York Woman, Who Had Lost Het Way, Discovers Officer After Walking Many Blocks. A young woman from New York, on one of her rare visits to Boston, found herself getting unusually bewildered in the labyrinth of streets converging at the South Terminal station. With the Immediate instinct of the New Yorker, who can usually be sure of finding an officer stationed at every crossing, she turned to look for a policeman. But no policeman was forthcoming. After walking a good many blocks she at last sighted a bluecoat. Bui he was going in the wrong direction —the direction away from her. At the end of a hundred yards of hot pursuit she overtook him. “Oh,” she gasped, “are you the only policeman in Boston?” The stalwart son of Erin stood looking quizzically down on her; then his face widened in a slow smile. “No, lady,’* he said, and his grin broadened in appreciative tribute to the flushed earnestness of the face upturned to his. “there’s me, and a boy.” —Youth’s Companion. i Baby Liked the Tag. “They have the‘finest plan up in Warren,” said a stout lady in a department store; “people who attend revival meetings in the tabernacle can leave their babies in a nursery near the entrance.” “How do they keep track of them?” inquired her companion. - “Easiest thing in the world,” was the reply. “They tag them.” “Huh!” exclaimed the friend, “not for mine.” “What is your objection to the plan?” came the inquiry. • “I tried thafonce when BiJLy Sunday was in town,” was the reply, “and my baby ata the tag.” TALKED A WHOLE LOT. / I F' j i ” \ 't’HIL Wigson—When your wife caught you hugging the chambermaid I suppose she was speechless with amazement. Wagson — Speechless! Say, you don’t know my wife. Remarkable. * “A funny thing happened at the banquet last night.” “Did somebody quit speaking before he had made everybody weary?” “No. A preacher who was called on for some remarks succeeded in getting -through without telling a story that had a cussword in it.” The Trouble. “I hear that Mr. and Mrs. Wrightson are living apart. What is the trouble?” “The same trouble that has caused many another man and woman to separate. He had an idea that she was his wife, but it was her belief that he was merely her husband.” The Invalid. 4 \ “You know that ballplayer who had a glass arm, a weak knee and a game ankle—the one who only finished in five games during the season?" "Yes; what about him?” “He’s going to work in a stoneyard through the winter.” ¥ Unconscious Truth. Church —Here’s an advertisement of a railroad’s night trains. It says “You go to sleep in Philadelphia and wake up in New York.” Gotham —Well, I don’t generally „ take stock in railroad advertisements, ■ but I guess that one’s true, all right. ’ We Have Met Him. “Would you call Bliggins a clever man?” “Certainly,” replied Miss Cayenne. “He is not intellectual, but he is wonderfully clever in concealing the fact from strangers.” Justifiable Suspicion. “I guess I must be getting old.” "Why do you think so?" “A pretty girl dropped one of her gloves on the sidewalk this morning and I permitted another man to beat me to it” . Surely Not Belle —Don’t you think conditions adapt themselves to the fashions Beulah —Oh, yes, when the women wore crinolines they didn’t have these little narrow flats.” No Taste for Them. “I notice that you always have a bon; at the horse show. Are you a lover of horses?” “Oh, dear me! Tm a strict vegetarian.” Tramp—Ma'am, I want a bite. s Woman—All right Here, Towset:!