The Syracuse Journal, Volume 4, Number 46, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 14 March 1912 — Page 3

[Zj STORY {Vj iNo Man’s] ■“3 Land E” A ROMANCE By Louis Joseph Vance Illustrations by Ray Walters (Copyright. igro. by Louis Joseph Vance.) SYNOPSIS. Garrett Coast, a young man of New 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 from him, thus the police discover them. Coast is arrested for murder. He is convicted, but as he begins his sentence, Dundas names Blackstock as the murderer and kills himself. Coast becomes free, but Blackstock has married Katherine Thaxter and fled. Coast purchases a yacht and while sailing sees a man thrown from a distant boat. He rescues the fellow who is named Appleyard. CHAPTER V.—(Continued.) Appleyard executed an ample gesture. “Romance," he replied, sententious. “Who are you, anyway?” pursued* Coast incautiously. “L might put the same question to you, sir.” “To your prospective employer?" The faded eyes twinkled. “As nearly won over as that, Mr. Coast? Decidedly my talents should have been devoted to spellbinding, as you so delicately suggest . . - But squarely, sir,”—he grew momentarily grave and earnest —“I’ve been painfully truthful: my monaker is actually Melchisedec Appleyard, incredible as it may sound. I give you my word I’m an honest man; the law has- no knowledge of or concern with me." For all his banter he betrayed not a little eagerness as he bent forward, scanning Coast’s face. His verdict was something deferred; Coast was actually and seriously considering the preposterous suggestion.. The little man promised a diverting companion, who had proven such up to that moment; and there were dark hours when Coast needed, diversion poignantly. Beyond question it would be convenient to have somebody at one’s beck and call, to stand a trick at the wheel or advise concerning dangerous waters. And, furthermore, Coast thought to detect in Mr. Appleyard’s manner a something which lent more than a mite of confirmation to his hint that he needed feed and shelter —if only temporarily. In the end Coast nodded slowly. “I’ll go you,” he said, holding the other’s eyes; “i’ll take you at your word.” Relief shone radiant on the withered oface. “Right you are, Mr. Coast!" cried Appleyard, extending a hand. “1 promise you won’t regret this. Word of honor, sir!” “That’s understood.” Coast pressed the hand and released it. “And now let’s get under way. I’m for bold water —Nantucket Sound to begin with. Can we make Vineyard Haven by nightfall, do you think?” “With this wind, via Quick's Hole?” Coast nodded and Appleyard considered sagely. “Os course we can,” he proclaimed. CHAPTER VI. “All ready?” Coast, at the wheel, nodded to Appleyard, who was crouching in the bows. “Ready,” he said. There foliov ed a splash as Appleyard dropped the hook of the mooring at which the Echo had been riding overnight. In a long and graceful sweep the Echo swung round and slipped briskly down the harbor to the urge of the following wind. Early in .the afternoon the wind began to fall, its volume diminishing by fits and starts; heavy puffs alternated with spells of steady breezing successively more faint. Over the bows the entrance to Quick’s Hole, the passage between Pasque and Nashawena Islands, became plainly visible. Appleyard remarked the signs of change with a wrinkle of disquiet between his brows. ’“Going to have a shift of wind, you think?” Coast asked. The little man nodded anxiously. “It’s a cinch,” he asserted. “And when it does swing the chances are ten to one it’ll come in from the sou'weot That’s the prevailing wind round here at this season, you know.” “Well? Even so, it’ll favor us up the Sound, won’t it? Besides, we’ve got the motor. . . “That’ll help a heap in case that fog comes down on us. won’t it?” Appleyard snorted in disgust, nodding toward the, bank of tawny haze that discolored the horizon beyond the low profiles of Nashawena and Cuttyhunk, over the starboard counter. “Hadn’t thought of that—” l "And yet you had the nerve to resent my suggestion that you needed » keenart”

“Well, then, it’s up to ¥ us io make that passage as soon as we can—what? Hadn’t I better get the motor going? Here, take the wheel, while I—” “Never mind,” Appleyard returned. “That’s my job. You stay put. That is, unless you prefer—” “No; I’m not crazy about it. Go ahead and break your back turning up a cold engine, if you want to.” “Don’t let that fret you any, Cap’n.” Appleyard grunted, setting the binnacle aside and lifting the engine-pit hatch. “Me, I was born and brought up with marine motors; they used to fill my nursing bottle with a mixture of gasoline and Vacuum A. Pipe your uncle.” , He dropped lightly into the pit, threw in both;, the main and shut-off switches, opened the globe-valve in the feed pipe, made a slight adjustment of the carbureter, and slowly turned up the fly-wheel. An angry buzzing broke out in the spark-coil. “You see,” he said with elaborate nonchalance. “They’re all alike —any one of ’em wifi feed right out of my hand.” He rocked the fly-wheel to and fro half a dozen times, then gave it a smart upward pull. Instantly there was a dull explosion in the cylinder, and the wheel began to spin steadily to the muffled drumming ®f the exhaust Gathering way, the boat moved at a more lively pace, with her sail flapping empty and listless and idly swinging boom. By the time Coast, instructed by his highly efficient crew, had piloted the Echo safely through to the Sound, a dead calm held.

n --.-r ii ■ — - ; — G- — ■ “We’re Perfectly Safe Unless We’re In Ship Channel.”

A little later a- chill breath of air fanned Coast’s cheek, the first whiff out of the southwest. The water flawed and darkened with the flying catspaws. The fog swept in swiftly. Far across the breadth of wind-dulled ‘ water Coast could see it moving onward like a wall, momentarily gaining in bulk. Already it was hovering threateningly over Gay Head, and while he looked a thin, gray, spectral arm stole across the low land 'at Menemsha Bight and began to grope its blind way up the Sound. Coast steered with his gaze fixed upon the compass on the engine-pit hatch, now his sole guide. Insensibly the fog grew more dense, so that in time the mast was more or less indistinct and only a yard or so of pallid water was visible on either hand. “Vineyard Haven tonight, by any chance?” he asked suddenly. Appleyard shook his head decidedly. “Not unless we get a breeze stiff enough to blow this off.” “Then we’d better find an anchorage for the night?” “Only thing to do. I’m willing to risk my valuable rep. as a weather prophet, that this won’t lift before morning.” “Tarpaulin Cove?” Appleyard pursed his thin lips and rubbed his nose, considering. “Good enough anchorage,” he admitted; “but for muh, I ain’t strong for it. Menemsha Bight would do us more comfortably—across the Sound, you know, a bit east of Gay Head.” “Why Menemsha Bight?” “Because there’s an able-bodied and energetic fog bell at Tarpaulin. Take my advice. There’ll be nothing but dead silence at the Bight, and it Isn’t much of a run over there.” “You know best. How shall I hold her?” “Sou’east.” “So.” Coast put the over and brought the Echo round to that course, as Indicated by the compass. Monotonously the chronometer in the cabin knelled the half-hours. About two bells (five o’clock) Appleyard began to fidget uneasily. He knocked out his pipe and, jumping up, trotted forward to the bows, where, an arm embracing the mast, he remained for many minutes stubbornly peering ! ahead into dreary blankness. 1 After » while he returned, discour-

aged, to the cockpit. “I don’t like this,” he asserted glumly. “There’s something gone wrong. We ought to ’ve made the Bight over an hour ago. I’ve been expecting we’d run aground every minute of the last «thlrty. . . Sure you’ve got the course right?” “Absolutely,” returned Coast with conviction. ’ . “Then what the divvle’s the matter” grumbled the little man. “Martha’s Vineyard hasn’t moved. I’ll go bail; and we. certainly couldn’t hold that course as long as we have without striking land somewhere." He wagged a perturbed head, growling Inarticulate dissatisfaction. “Let me think. . . . Something wrong . . . What . . . ? Wait!” he cried abruptly. “Maybe . , . Hold that wheel steady for a bit. will you.” Dropping to his knees he peered intently into the binnacle, at the same time opening the cut-off switch and disconnecting the batteries. The motor promptly coughed and was quiet, the droning in the spark coll died away, and Coast, leaning forward In wonder, saw the compass dial jerk as if suddenly release and then swing through an arc of almost ninety degrees ere it steadied. “What In thunder does that mean?” he demanded, surprised to the point of Incredulity. “Means we’re both asses of blooded lineage,” said Appleyard sourly, rising; “though you’re not a marker to me. I should’ve known better—l’d’ve thought of it right away if I had only half the sense God gives the domestic goose. That compass was right on top of the spark coil. Naturally it magnetized. ... And I would’ve known better, too. if ever I had run

an engine with the coil on the cylinder before! Oh —piffle!” * “Then I’ve been holding the wrong course for several hours.” “Prezactly.” “And you haven’t any idea where we are?” “Not a glimmer.” Thoroughly disheartened, Coast left the wheel. “Nice mess,” he observed quietly. Appleyard sighed profoundly. The worst of it is, I’m a sawed-off little runt, too small for you to kick as 1 ought to be kicked. ..." “Yes.” said Coast. They dined simply and solemnly on cold things, after which Appleyard, at his own suggestion, took the first watch. “You need rest,” he argued, and I don’t—rarely sleep over three hours a night You turn in now and when your time’s up I’ll call you. There’s nothing to worry about.” Coast was really very tired and little loath to be persuaded. He dropped off instantly into dreamless sleep. At some time during the night he was disturbed by a heavy splashing under the bows. He roused just enough to appreciate, where he was, and lay staring drowsily at the cabin lamp until (he seemed to have dozed off again and again awakened) he was aware of Appleyard’s presence in the cabin. “Hello,” he yawned, staring at the little man’s head and shoulders as he sat on the other transom, beyond the center-board trunk, busying himself over something invisible in his hands. “What’s up?” “Sorry I waked you,” returned Appleyard. His eyes flickered keenly over Coast’s face for an instant “We drifted aground a few minutes ago,” he explained in a perfunctory tone; “1 pushed off with the sweep and anchored with a short cable.” "Whereabout d’you think we are?” Coast pursued sleepily. “How should I know? Menemsha Bight for choice, but it might be anywhere along the Vineyard Coast—possibly Pasque—or No Man's Land.” “What’s that?” “No Man’s Land? Oh, a little island south of Gay Head, ’bout as big’s ■ handkerchief. Practically uninhabited.” Appleyard rose. “What you doing?" Coast yawned extravagantly. (TO BE COMTXNUKDJ

\ MV FARMER CAUGHT BY A PUPIL Finds Out Weight of Moon, Depth of <s?Sea and That He Thought He Was Talking to Twin. A farmer calling at the village school was asked by the master if he would like to question the scholars. So he said to the class: “If either of you can tell me the weight of the moon, the depth of the sea and what I am thinking about, I will give a prize of sixpence.” There were twin brothers in this classrnfmed Sam and Joe. Now, Joe put up his hand and the farmer said: “Well, Sam, what is your answer?” Joe replied: “The weight of the moon is four quarters, the depth of the sea is a stone’s throw,” and then he paused. The farmer responded: “Well, Sam, what am I thinking about?” “Why, you are thinking you are talking to Sam, when it is his brother Joe!” —Ideas. Help From Johnny. “What were you and Mr. §mith talking about in the parlor?” asked her mother. “Oh, we were discussing our kith ind kin,” replied the yotmg lady. The mother looked dubiously at her laughtei", whereupon her little brother, wishing to help his sister, said: “Yeth they wath, mother. I heard em. Mr. Thwith asked her for a kith ind she thaid. ‘You kin.’ ” —Ladies’ Some Journal. In the Glacial Age. First Primitive Man —I tell you, these women are getting so they want to be coddled like a lot of dolls. Second Ditto —That’s right. Look at Stonehinge’s wife. He knocked her down a few tiniest threw*her over a cliff and dragged her around a little by her hair, and now she’s suing him for divorce pn th4 ground of “excessive cruelty!”—Pick. Seeking a Job. Applicant for Position—l have here i letter of recommendation from my minister. Head of Firm —That’s very good, so Jar as it goes, but we won’t need jrour services on Sunday. Have you »ny references -from anybody who knows you the other six days of the week? American Style. “When Indian princes marry, the leremony takes place in the open.” “How unlike some of our American millionaires.” “What do you mean?" “Many of them appear to try to keep their wedding under cover.” A SLOW PROCESS. / 1 / i I X. I // I— l | PHIL I I < J "Wiggs went out this morning to tlean off the snow.” “Yes.” “Every two minutes he’d run in the bouse to warm up.” “Did he clean off the snow?” “He finally cleaned off the little that pe hadn’t carried iuto the house on his feet. To Be Expected. “Can you paint me a gallery of anjestors from this old tintype?” “I can, but they will all look much dike.” “Well, a family resemblance won’t »urt none.” Sounded That Way. Patience —How did you like Will as t dancer? Patrice—Oh, he’s ripping! “I didn’t mean as a dress destroy»r; I mean as a dancer. * » Remarkable. "Green’s house burned nearly down st night. Funny thing, too! “What’s a funny thing?” "Why, the fire did as much damage the water.” —Judge.

JUST A SLIGHT DIFFERENCE Smartly Dressed Girl, Who Was Most Precious Jewel in the Universe, Made Audible Comments. It was at an afternoon concert and in the stalls sat a smartly dressed girl and the young man who deemed her the most precious jewel of the universe. Behind them sat a couple of the type of suburban concert-goers who came rather to discuss the audience than listen to the music. “Look at that girl just In front of us,” commented one in a very audible whisper. “She’s a shop assistant at L —’s. I should like to know what business she has at a gathering of this sort. And just look at her hat! She served me the ether day with the one I am wearing, and I. suppose she persuades herself that there is no difference between It and mine. I never —” The girl in front turned with a crimson face. “Oh, yes, madam, there is a difference,” she said quietly. “Mine is paid for.” —St. Paul Dispatch. Newspaper Extract. correction by the Garnet (Kan.) Evening-Review: “A couple of errors appeared in the report of the M. E. missionary meeting in yesterday’s Review. The report was received by telephone, and some words were indistinct. In speaking of responses to roll call, we said each was a verse of Scripture, in which appeared the word ‘teeth’. It became necessary for us to extract the teeth and put in their place the word ‘peace.’ ” EYE TO THE FUTURE. “ 1 .. “What are you going to do with it, my boy?” “Keep it till nex’ summer an’ I kin git most any price I wants fer it.” A Deep One. “Gosh all hemlock!” exclaimed the first farmer, “ain’t yer struck watei yet? How deep hev ye gone?” “ 'Bout 100 feet,” replied the other placidly. “An’ ain’t ye discouraged?” “Oh, I dunno. I can’t say I ain’t gittin’ a long well.” —Catholic Standard and Times. Taking a Mean Advantage. “Notice that hollow-cheeked dyspeptic over there having a lunch of milk and crackers?” “Yes, poor devil!” “Let’s sit down by him and order mince pie, just to see him shudder.” On the Water Wagon. Mr. Crimsonbeak —Here’s an item which says the swan outlives any other bird, in extreme cases reaching 300 years. Mrs. Crimsonbeak —And remember, John, the swans live on water. —Sa cret Heart Review. Self-Protection. “John,” his wife complained, “I wish you would be more careful. It seems to me you never go to a banquet without spilling soup on your' shirt front or your vest.” “I know it, Mary. I guess I’ll have to let my whiskers grow.” Lucky He Did. Mr. Flubdub —You women are mighty slow. During the time it took you to select that hat I went out and made S2OO. Mrs. Flubdub—l’m so glad, dear. You’ll need it!—Puck. -- Seeking Solace. "Josh is lazy and egotistical,” said Farmer Corntossel. “Well,” replied his wife, “mebbe we kin be thankful to have him git industrious in showin’ his egotism.” Live and Learn. “I have made a discovery,” declared the bride.” “So?” “Yes; I find one can cook as well on a stove as on a chafing dish. Really, I i was surprised.” Signal for a Demonstration. "What did that man mean by. saying he would not be a candidate?” “He meant,” replied Senator Sorghum, “that .It’s time for his friends to get busy and remind the country how much It needs him.” A Gentle Knock. “Remember, my dear brethren,” said the minister, “that charity covereth a multitude of sins. I hope you’ll be unusually generous in your offering this morning.” The Retort Modem. “You wouldn’t take no prize in a beauty show, you know,” she sneered. “Well, I don’t see you writing no beauty hints for the daily paperfts retorted ..the other.

The Criticism * of Missions By Rev. Edward A. Marshall, Director of Missionary Course, Moody Bible Institute, Chicago

It is natural to expect that missionary work will be criticised when one considers the great variety of people interested and the many different views promulgated. There are three or four hundred societies belonging to scores of denominations now working in the field. They have over 20,000 mission-

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aries in active service and are spending more than $30,000,000 annually on the work. It would be unfair to say that criticism must be prohibited and that no critical questions would be answered. The critic could justly reply that since he was unable to learn how his money was being spent, he would, cease to contribute. On the other hand the critic must be fair to the society and worker who naturally expect him to know • what lie is talking about before he speaks. , Os course there’are different kinds of criticism just as there are different kinds of people. One speaks with a view to helpfulness, another criticises because he desires to find reasons to excuse himself from responsibility while a third may talk against the work because he is not content to sanction the use of any ecclesiastical harness or work in harmony with his fellows on any task. However the person who wishes to be accorded a hearing on missionary work (or any other work) should comply with certain rules, which, if observfed will make him an aid to the building up of that work in some substantial, beneficial way. I. The critic must be a Christian. A man out of Christ looks at the subject from the wrong viewpoint. He naturally thinks it unnecessary to send the gospel to the heathen if he has refused it himself. Neither can he be expected to support a teaching he does not himself believe. 11. The critic must be a soul winner. That is, he have some adequate realization of the value of a lost soul and must have tried, to bring souls to Christ. 111. The critic must be an honest student of missionary work. The great task of missions cannot be learned by intuition. It involves matters touching the personal life and liberties of thousands and the purses of millions. It deals with the deepest principles of organization and requires a broad knowledge of the working value of policies and methods. Therefore the person who would dictate standards for the adoption of missionaries must know whereof he speaks. IV. The critic should have visited the mission fields or talked freely with missionaries. Theory is one thing and practice is quite another, especially When the theory is created in America, but has to be applied in Africa. Parents find that the course of training applied to one child is sometimes worthless when applied to another, even though the children be in the same family. Then again, if a person is capable of offering criticism he must see that it is cautiously and wisely given, because: I. It is unwise to criticise what God has especially commanded. The person who criticises the work of missions must remember that he is dealing with the triune God. Every person of the Godhead is vitally interested, and is also a personal participant in the work of saving the heathen. Therefore the critic stands on perilous ground before his Creator. 11. There are 20,000 missionaries who have believed enough in missions to be out on the field today. The critic who remains at home in a well feathered neSt must realize that it is no small thing to put his inexperienced judgment up against the actual labors of consecrated thousands whose universal testimony is that “missions pay.” 111. The transformation of the heathen, which has taken place during the past 100 years, overwhelmingly answers all those who would say that the work is not worth while. Anyone who has watched the evolution of tribes and nations by the process of divine regeneration; who has seen annihilating customs become only items for the historian, and the number of printed languages leap from fifty to more 1 than five hundred, through missionary toll, has surely felt his thoughtless criticisms grow cold on his lips. These things make a wise man careful in his judgment for he realizes that his influence may mean the weal or woe of some of his fellowmen, both at home and abroad. The man who is not both wise and careful in his speech cannot of course expect men who are in the thick of the fight to leave their posts and come back to where he reclines comfortably in the barracks in order to answer his idlei

WHERE DOCTORS FAILED TO HELP Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound Restored Mrs, Green’s Health — Her Own Statement Covington, Mo.—“ Your medicine bar done me more good than all the doc-

tor’s medicines. At everymonthly period I had to stay in bed four days because of hemorrhages, and my back was so weak I could hardly walk. I have been taking Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound and now I can stay up and do my work. I think it is

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the best medicine on earth for women.” —Mrs. Jennh: Green, Covington, Mo. How Mrs. Cline Avoided Operation. Brownsville, Ind.—“l can say that Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound has done me more good than anything else. One doctor said I must be operated upon for a serious female trouble and that nothing could help me but an operation. “I had hemorrhages and at times could not get any medicine to stop them. I got in such a weak condition that I would have died if I had not got relief soon. “Several women who had taken your Compound, told me to try it and I did and found it to be the right medicine to build up the System and overcome female troubles. “lam now in great deal better health fhan I ever expected to be, so I think. l ought to thank you for it.”—Mrs. O. M. S. Main St., Brownsville, Ind. Best Ccufrh 3yrun Tastes Good. Use £3 y* in time Sold Druggists. • Perhaps a roiling stone gathers no moss because it isn’t on the level. Garfield Tea, taken regularly, will correct both liver and kidney disorders. Always hold fast to love; we win by tenderness and conquer by for giveness.—F. \V. Robertson. -I Fairy Story. “They married and lived happily ever after.” “You forget that you are talking about two people on the stage.” A Hint From Shakespeare. “Why do you call your dog Hamlet?” “Can't you see why? He's a Great Dane.” Wheat Goes Down. * De Broker—Hear about De (Firbb? De Ledger—No. What’s happened to him? De Broker —Knocked flat De Ledger—You- don't say? Was he caught by the drop in wheat? De Broker —Well, yes; something like that. A barrel of flour fell on him. Fortissimo. When a certain Baltimore matron returned home one afternoon not so long ago the first sight her eyes beheld was a badly damaged youngster of hers. Little Bobby’s forehead bore a bump almost the size of a doorknob. * “Heavens!” exclaimed the mother. “What has happened to Bobby?” “Nuthin* much, mum,.” explained the new nurse. “You told me, mum, he might play on the planner if he wanted to. Well, mum, wanst while be was sliding on the top, he slid a bit too far, mum; an’ that accounts for the bump ye see, mum.” A WOMAN DOCTOR Was Quick to See That Coffee Polson Was Doing the Mischief. A lady tells of a bad case of coffee poisoning, and tells it in away so simple and straightforward that literary skill could not improve it “I had neuralgic headaches for 11 years,” she says, “and have suffered untold agony. When I first began to have them I weighed 140 pounds, but they brought me down to 110. "I went to many doctors and they gave me only temporary relief. I suffered on, till one day, a womaa doctor advised me to drink Postum. She said I looked like I was coffee poisoned. “So I began to drink Postum, and weeks and am still gaining, but not so fast as at first. My headaches began to leave me after I had used Postum about two weeks —long enough, I expect, to get the coffee poison out of my system. “Now that a few months have pass, ed since I began to use I’ostum, I can gladly say that I never know what a neuralgic headache is like any more, and it was nothing nut Postum that relieved me. “Before I used Postum I never went out alone; I would gdt bewildered and would not know which way to turn. Now I go alone and Is as clear as a bell. My brain and nerves are stronger than they have been for years.” Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. “There’s a reason,” and it is explained in the little book, “The Road to Wellville,” in pkgs. Ever read the above letterT A mew one appear* from timp to time. They are genuine, true, aad fall of huinaa Interest.