The Syracuse Journal, Volume 4, Number 48, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 28 March 1912 — Page 3

7 SE RI AL V [ STORY J i No Man’s] ■3 Land Er A ROMANCE By Louis Joseph Vance Illustrations by Ray Walters

(Copyright. xpio. by Louis Joseph Vance.) SYNOPSIS. Garrett Coast, a young man of New Fork 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 T.haxter. 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 Biackstock 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 res- , rues the fellow who Is named Appleyard. They arrive at a lonely island, known as No Man’s Land. Coast starts out to explore the place and comes upon some deserted buildings. CHAPTER Vl!.—(Continued.) His voice must have carried to the animal; he heard a whine, the quick padding of paws, and a huge Scotch collie bounded clumsily out of the mists, passed him within an arm’s length, vanished and returned, whining aad circling, nose to ground, as if confused and unable to locate him. He watched' the animal, - half-stupefied with wonder at its erratic actions; then unconsciously mbved slightly. A pebble grated beneath his foot. The dog wheeled toward him instantly and paused at attention, a forepaw lUted. ears pricked forward, delicate nostrils expanding and contracting as he sniffed for the scent of man. "Here, boy, here!” Coast called softly; and the next moment had the animal fawning upon him, alternately cringing at his feet and jumpihg up to muzzle his legs and hands, as if they were his own master’s. "Good boy! Steady now! So-o, so!” Puzzled by this demonstrative reception. Coast bent over the animal, trying to soothe it with voice and hand. It was plainly in a state of high excitement and evidently deeply grateful for his sympathetic toleration. He caught the finely modeled head between his palms, lifting , up the muzzle. ‘-‘Come, now,” he said In a soothing tone, “let’s have a lock at you, old fellow. Good old boy—it’s all right now —steady . . . Why, the poor brute’s blind’” For as its eyes rolled up he saw that they were blank and lightless, the irides masked with a film of white. “Cataract,” he said, releasing the dog. “That’s why he couldn’t see me. . . . I wondered . . . Hello, what now?” Comforted and reassured, the dog had drawn away and resumed its mysterious circling, nosing the earth' with anxious whinings. Abruptly is paused, tense, lithe frame quivering, then made off at a rapid trot in the direction whence It had appeared. A moment later the heartrending howl wailed out again. Almost unwillingly Coast followed, I nerving himself against the discovery he feared to make. . . . Half a dozen steps, and he almost fell over the dog. He recoiled with a cry of horrified consternation. “Appleyard!. . .” But it w’as not Appleyard. On raw, naked earth in the middle of the rude village street, a man lay prone with one forearm crooked beneath his head, his other limbs repulsively asprawl. His head, near which the collie squatted, lifting its mournful muzzle to the sky, was bare and thickly thatched with reddish hair. ' ■ The man had been murdered, foully slain by a means singular and unique outside the Orient Deep buried in a crease round his throat Coast had seen a knotted doop of crimson silk whipcord—the bow-string of the East. Above it the face was a grinning mask of agony and fear, dark with congested blood; a face that, nohe the less—despite those frightfully shadowed, blurred and swollen features —had unquestionably once been comely in the youthful Irish way. He rose and searched the ground for indications’ of a struggle. He found none.. No confusion of footprints about the dead man showed on the damp earth. Apparently the victim had been taken from behind, without warning. Irresolute, baffled, he lingered for another moment. By his side the dog howled deep and long. He turned, half-faint, and fled the place, bearing with him what he was not to forget for many a night: the picture of the blind dog mourning fullmouthed beside the crumpled, lifeless Thing that had been its master, there In that nameless spot of death and d— olatlon-

The- horror of it crawled like delirium in his brain. “No Man’s Land?” he muttered huskily . . . “Land of devil* . . .1“ CHAPTER VIII. "There’s no sense In this—none whatever!” Coast spoke for the first time in twenty mimites or so. “Where in thunderation am I, anyhow?” He stood in thought, pursing his underlip between a thumb and forefinger, wits alert to detect the clue to his bearings that was denied him, for all that the fog had thinned perceptibly within the last third of an hour. This much he knew and no more: that he was lost. As from a great distance came the muffled mourning of the blind dog. Coast shivered. “I can’t stand that.” he said irritably, and plunged on in desperation. Before him, a wall started up out of the mist-bound earth, a low stone e wall, grey where It was nqt green with lichen, and ran off inland, diverting the path to keep it company. Some distance farther on a second wall, counterpart of the other, intersected It at right angles. Here wasfc'a primitive stile. Coast climbed over and continued, following the thinly-marked, tortuous trail across a wide expafise of rolling, semi- sterile, treeless upland, thickly webbed with other footways. . ■ Unexpectedly a rail fence sprang up across 1 the path. Beyond it a company of indistinct blurs uncertainly shadowed forth what he took, and what the event proved, to be t a farmhouse with outbuildings. Encouraged, Coast climbed the fence and addressed himself to the farmhouse, coming inevitably first to its main entrance, the kitchen door; which stood hospitably wide, revealing an interior untenanted but warm with recent use. Coast did not enter, but moved

a H —>■ fl—. *7 Y-I r—--1 i > /Ik J u / / i Ofl The Man Had Been Murdered.

i round toward the front of the house,; j his footsteps noiseless on the sod. By tile corner he stopped as though he had run against ah invisible barrier. Ten feet distant a woman stood in the gateway of a fence of palings, i Half turned away from him and more, ] so that only the rounded curves of i cheek and chin were visible, she 1 seemed absorbed in pensive meditation. One hand held the gate ajar, , the other touched her cheek with slender fingers. She was dressed plainly to the verge of severity: a well-tailor-ed tweed skirt ending a trifle above ' ankles protected by high tan boots; | a blouse of heavy white linen with a ■ deep sailor collar edged with blue — | sleeves rolled well above the elbow, revealing arms browned, graceful and | round; for her head no covering other than its own heavy coils of bronze shot with gold. Coast was conscious of a tightening in his throat producing a feeling of j suffocation, of a throbbing in his tem-l pies like the throbbing of a muffled I drum.. In a trice he had forgotten ■ everything that had passed up to that | moment; .even the haunting thought j of the murdered man dropped out of ■ his consciousness; he was unable to entertain the faintest shadow of a thought that did not center about this woman, not a line of whose gracious pose, not a tress of whose matchless hair, not a tint of whose wonderful coldring but was more intimate to his memory than his own features. She was—she had been —Katherine ! Thaxter. CHAPTER IX. His first translatable impulse was to turn and make good his escape before she became aware of him. But, as if the shock of recognition had palsied • his will, he remained moveless. Con- i

tending emotions, resembling the flashes of heat and cold of an ague fit, alternately confounded and stung him to the point of madness. For the first time in days he had forced home to him all that he had sought to banish from his life; his memories, of his gnawing passion for the woman, of the black crime that had severed their lives. Seeing before him the one being in the world dear to him beyond expression, the one being irrevocably lost to him, he divined anew with bitter clarity the bridgeless gulf that yawned between them. It was Inevitable that the woman should in time become sensitive to his proximity. Though wholly unaware of his approach, though thoroughly assured that she was alone, a feeling of uneasiness affected her. She resisted it subconsciously and strove to continue the line of thought which had engaged her; but without effect Theb she turned her head, and threw a flickering glance toward the house; the shadow of his figure lay upon the boundary of her vision. She swung quickly to face him, suppressing a cry. Their eyes focussed to one another, his burning, her successively a-swim with astonishment incredulity and consternation. For a long moment during which neither moved or spoke, while she grew pale and yet more pale and he flushed darkly, their questing glances crossed and recrossed like swords at play. From Katherine’s eyes a woman’s soul gazed forth, experienced, mature, inured to sadness, gently brave: where had been the eager, questioning, apprehensive, daring spirit of a girl. He who had suffered and lived could see that she in no less degree had lived and suffered since that evening when last he had seen her beneath the street lights, bending forward from- the seat of her town-car to bld him farewell. Life is not kind: Life had not been kind to her. If he bad endured, she likewise had endured, in another way, perhaps, but

;in no less measure. She, too, haa seen the splendid tapestry of her Illusions rent to tatters by Life’s implacable hand. For this one man alone was answerable —Blackstock. Os a sudden, on the echo of that ■ name in his brain, Coast’s hatred of i the man, the animosity that had hard--1 ened to inexorable enmity in the crucible of his passion, recurred withstgn- , fold strength and nearly overmastered him. It is only the ruin their own deeds have wrought that men can view complacently. He stepped forward a single pace, ! with an unconscious gesture as ona ■ who tears from his throat that which i hinders free respiration. “Where,” . he demanded without preface or apol- : ogy, in a- voice so thick and hoarse he hardly knew it for his own —“Where is he?” i He saw her recoil from his advance, but fear or reI pugnance he could not guess. When I she replied It was with dis- , ficulty. I | Impatient, he waved aside what seemed a palpable quibble: she must ! know .very well what he meant. “What yare you doing here, in this place, alone? Why did he leave you here?' He moved nearer, his voice rising to vehemence. “Why are you here, Katherine?" She drew back again, passing through the gateway, so that the fence stood between them. He comprehended dully that she did this through fear of him. “I might ask as much of you.” ' “Os me?” Her quietly Interjected remark threw him momentarily off his line of thought “Yes, of you,” she replied quietly, quick to see and take advantage of nls distraction. "How did you gel here? And why?” (TO BE COWTIXUED4

TM/M ffl \ ■— I LScott®

OR more than 33 years Fred Enock, a London man of science, has been scouring square mile upon square’/fiiile of England with a cam-, brie net no bigger than your hat, looking for an insect less than onetwentieth of an inch long. So scarce are

V

some kinds of these insects that there ' are said to be only two in every 640 acres, and the finding of them is so rare a feat that one must go back 60 'years to read of a previous catch. Now Enock has landed one, and he is the happiest man in England. Enock is a fellow of no fewer than four scientific societies and a most learned looking man, with a tall dome of a forehead. He talks like an annual report of the Linnean society. The insects have ben popii- * larly christened fairy flies, and, until Enock fell in love with the shape of one under the microscope 33 years ■ ago, men of science had considered them of not enough importance to waste time over. And to this day i Enock remains almost the sole authority upon their playful habits. Surety much ado was never made about less. Here is a man with a more than ordinary brain who spends | ; almost two score of precious years 1F..-\ 7 ■ 7 ■ :* y < --- looking for a few insects that will never be of any possible use to hu- ' manity or probably to science, and the total result of his long search could be put in a peanut shell. Os course, he has done other work; he is a mounter of insects for collectors, and he tells me that according to accurate records he has kept he has mounted no fewer than 200,000 specimens. In addition, he is a lecturer, in popular style, on natural history subjects, and he travels about England explaining to the rising generation, the evolution the spider, 8 the wasp, the bee, the butterfly and his lifelong friend, the fairy fly. But how many valuable hours have been stolen from more productive fields of effort to spend with his net, his bottles and his microscope on the invisible trail of the elusive fairy fly only Enock knows. If it were possible to calculate the amount of money wasted by him in his strange quest, it Would probably be found that his fairy flies are worth many times their weight in radium. It will be entertaining to let Enock tell of his queer search in his own words, but you must remember that when he speaks of fairy flies as the most beautiful insects in the world he is like a fond parent describing his favorite child, and prone to exaggeration. “My Introduction to the fairy fly,” I he said, “was at a meeting of the Royal Microscopical society of 1878. A species’no larger than a fiftieth of an inch entangled in a spider’s web was shown to us, and I immediately lost my heart to it. It had four wings ( exquisitely shaped and margined with hairs. I determined that I would search out the life history of these insects, and thus began my long quest for some of the rarer species. "At that time practically nothing t was known of them. They were so [ small that they had quite escaped the attention of scientists. The first men- * tion of in 1797, and then iiothing/was heard of them for more . than iv years. I soon found out that ! Tirey belonged to the same order as j the honey bee and the wasp—sort of .xxsr relations, so to speak. In size they vary from a twentieth to a nine--5 tieth of an inch in length. Figures j as small as that convey no impres- . sion- to the ordinary mind. Perhaps it might be better if I say that a doz-' ’ nn of these beauties could wadk ’ abreast through an ordinary pinhole. ’ They search out the eggs of. certain ether insects and in them lay their own, thus destroying the host eggs. 7 Each species has a different kind of ~ uost egg, and in no circumstance will they lay their eggs in any other way. “During the 30 odd years I have . been searching for these flies, I have discovered eight new genera and at . least 150 new species. For the last , four years I had the assistance of » Charles Owen Waterhouse, formerly a member of the staff of the Natural

Musings from Merryland

Most Distressing. X •Tis very sad A “peach” to view And then be told 3 She’s not for you. * Like a Wool Schedule. “Shan’t I play you the woolen-un-2 derwear record?” I "Is tfcat the name of the piece?” ’ "No, we just call it that because It sounds so scratchy.’*

/ \ I •:< \ \ II «B*K. X-

B ' vS- n mil' ' _ '

1 History Museum, at South Kensington, who, like myself, became fascinated by the marvelous beauty of these fairy flies when seen under the microscope, and decided to devote his time to searching out.” One can picture these two men, both hovering around the middle 60s, armed with cambric nets, a collection of empty glass tubes and microscopes, both possessed of the enthusiasm that knows no discouragement, tramping over the fields of England day in and day out, content if once in a blue moon either caught a new species. Enock gave to the writer a description of probably the greatest moment in his life, when he discovered in the bottom of his net the male fairy fly of a certain species, for which he had been searching patiently for the whole 30 odd years of his acquaintance with the injects. Females he had landed before, 'but the male was so rare that 60 years had elapsed since anyone had put one between glasses and submitted it to the prying eye of the microscope. “Waterhoure and I had been sweeping Burnham Beeches with our nets all one Saturday afternoon,” he said. “I intended going home for dinner, ahd as Waterhouse was staying out we parted, he going to the west and I staying in the field.’ I determined to have a few piope sweeps before leaving, and at their conclusion I examined the bottom of my net with my microscope. I became dizzy with excitement when I saw there the very insect I had given more than 30 years of my life to find —the male of a rare species of which there are only two in every square mile. In honor of King George I immediately christened it Mymar regalis. In my excitement, however, I almost lost the treasure. He hopped away, and although I immediately closed the net I thought I had lost him. During the next few minutes I was almost dead with anxiety, but an examination soon convinced me that I .still had, him captive and in a few seconds he was safely bottled. “Wonderful as this catch was. it was rendered more wonderful still by the fact that in the same net I discovered a species of a minute insect of which there was no record of any previous catch for 90 years. I soon had it, too, safely in a bottle and started as fast as my old legs would carry me after Waterhouse to tell him the great news. I ran and walked four miles that day flefore I finally found him. ‘What think this is?’ I asked him, to remain as calm as possible and show ing him the Mymar regalis. As soon as he realized, he offered me his con gratulati'bns. Then I showed him my other find and there were more con gratulations. That was a day to re member all the rest of one’s life. “But these fairy files are not all as scarce as the Mymar regalis. Far from it. Despite the fact that they have been overlooked by the great body of naturalists, they are to be found in every garden and on every window —in houses, in conservatories and in trains. When I was younger and my sight was better I used to catch them with my hands as they flew, like tiny specks of gold, across

M Along the Line of Least Resistance. “Hello! Is that the information editor?” asked a voice through the telephone. “Yes.” "Please tell me how many inches there are in a meter." “Haven’t you a dictionary in your house?" , “Yea, but it’s less trouble to call you up and ask you.**

a sunbeam. One of the most plentiful species, that known popularly as 1 the black fairy fly, I have captured in hundreds in the early spring, close up to the horizontal sash bar of an east window. At other times they are to be found in large numbers running up and down grass stems in search of their host eggs. “Even after spending the better part of my life in the study of these insects I am compelled to acknowledge 1 that I know very little of them. Os the 21 genera now comprised in the British fairy flies, I have been able I to work out the life history of but i two. Os course. I know considerable 1 about others of the remaining nineteen, and year by year I am adding links that I hope will eventually complete the life cycles. “The common black fairy fly lays Us eggs in fhose of- a small water i beetle, found on stems of plants below the water line. In order, therefore, to get to its host eggs this fairy fly must dive beneath the water. The i Alaptus, another common species, i searches for the eggs of a fly rel sembling the common green fly, the ; pest of the gardener. The tiny Camptopera papavis, one of the smallest of fairy flies, sometimes appears in hundreds oh windows, and at my home in Woking I have captured no fewer 1 than 600, all female, at one time. I “One of the most extraordinary little insects is that known as Caraphractus cinctus. It is* aquatic in its habits, using its delicately fringed wings for. ‘flying’ through the water. ’ Its legs are kept perfectly still during the operation and the fly progresses with a jerky, zigzag motion. “These insects appear in early spring—some of them-in March —and I have captured them as late as December. They are difficult to breed because of the difficulty of discovering their host eggs. “Os all insects, that popularly call ; ed battledore wing fly is without doubt the most wonderfully formed and most beautiful I have ever looked upon. It is less than one-twentieth of ' an inch in length, with its two front wings shaped like long-handled battledores, surrounded by a fringe of long hairs. The hind wings, so tiny that even under a powerful microscope the ordinary observer does not see them, are armed with three minute hooks on the upper edge, which fix into grooves on the upper wings and so form a strengthening bracket. My first capture of the battledore wing fly was made 33 years ago and it was i only last year, after constant efforts, J that I was able to breed it.” , Speaking generally, Enock had high praise for the work of the bureau of entomology of the United States department qf agriculture. He constantly corresponds with Dr. Leland O. Howard, its famous chief, for whom he has a great admiration. “If we only had the brains in this country that you have in the United States,” remarked Enoch, sorrowfully, “we might be able to give something worth while to science. ; We know absolutely nothing about the life history' of the majority of crop pests, and there is no organization such as your bureau of entomology to advise the farmers of Great Britain. The trouble is there is no money available for field work, and when a government grant is made the money is spent in some ineffective way that is of absolutely no practical use to the farmer. Some day I suppose we shall wake up.” Dodging a Moustache. Ella —How can you remove hair from the face? Stella —Turn your face away.

A Gay Deceiver. We know a man—from home away He’s full of life. His attitude is “Let us pray,” When with his wife. Cold Snap. “Bligely seems to be neglecting bls business.” “That’s so, but you can’t blame a man for keeping his eyes glued on the thermometer these days.”

FREE I want every person •who is bilious, const! pitted or has any etomaeh or liver ailment to send for a free package of my Paw-Paw Pills I want to prove tha, they positively cure Indigestion, Sour Stomach, Belching, Wind, Headache Nervousness, Sleeplessness and are an infallible curs forConstipation. Tods

this (am willing: to irive millions of free packages. I take all the risk. Sold by drug-jriste lor 25 cents a vial. For free package address* Prof. Munyan. 53rd & Jefferson Sts.. Philadelphia, Pa» Don’t Persecute . Your Bowels Cut out cathartics and purgatives. They ax» brutal, harsh, unnecessary. T. CARTER’S LITTLE LIVER PILLS dW™ * Purely vegetable. Act ADTCD'C gently on the liver, ul\J eliminate bile, and EStfTLE soothe the delicate membrane of the g I V t K I bowel. ■ PILLS. i Constipation, X i Biliousness, Sfck Head- — 3 ache and Indigestion, as millions know. SMALL PILL, SMALL DOSE, SMALL PRICE. Genuine must bear Signature I’Sa Cough Syrup Tastes Good. Use K-jjj Pji time Sold by Druggists.

W. N. U., FT. WAYNE, NO. 12-19f2. _—— Love laughs at locksmiths, but it i . sometimes cries over spilt milk. . As a corrective for indigestion and a regt*, later of the system, no remedy can excel !• j purity and efficiency Garfield Tea. • But, it takes a woman to keep s secret she doesn’t know. -MrA Winslow’s Soothing Syrup for Children teething, softens the yruras. reduces inflammation, unlays pain, cures wind colic, 25c a boitia In every action, reflect upon th* | end, -and in your Undertaking it con- ! eider why you do it.—Jeremy Taylor. Parlez-Vous Francals? He —Does ’she speak French at all? She —Well, yes; but only enough to I make herself uniiiielligib’ie. Gold Welcome. A clergyman in a small town was deploring the fact. that none of the couples that came in from the country to be married stopped at his house I for the purpose. “Well, brother t ” said the man ad-' i dressed, “what can .you expect with j that big sign on the tree there: ‘Five i dollars fine for hitchihg here?’”— | Youth’s Companion. — Astonished Husband. De Wolfe Hopper tells a good story about the domestic unhappiness of another actor. The hero of the joke was a man who had married because the woman had much money, although no beauty. Naturally, after the wedding ceremony and the acquisition of the bride's' financial resoutces, the husband was never very attentive to her. Another member of the company in I which the couple were appearing was, i however, far more appreciative of the lady's charms, and proceeded to make love to her in an ardent but stealthy manner. The grand finale came one Evening when the actor discovered the other man kissing his wife. Th® fond lover stood petrified with fear, and expected to be shot down th® next moment. No such thing happened. The out* raged husband only lifted his hands toward the ceiling with a gesture oi intense surprise, and exclaimed: “Merciful heavens! And he <dida*€ even have to!” HARD TO DROP But Many Drop It A young Calif, wife talks about coffee: “ir'was hard to drop Mocha and Java and give Ppstum a trial, but my nerves were so shattered that I was a nervous wreck and of course that means all kinds bf ills. “At first I thought bicycle riding caused it and I gave it up, but my condition remained unchanged. I did not want to acknowledge coffee caused the trouble for I was very fond of it “About that time a friend came to live with us, and I noticed that after he had been with us a week he w'ould not drink his coffee any more. I asked him the reason. He replied, ‘I have, not had a headache since I left off drinking coffee, some months ago, till last week, when I began again, here at your table. I don’t see how anyon;® can like coffee, anyway, after drinking Postum’l “I said nothing, but at once ordered a package of Postum. That was five months ago, and we have drank no coffee since, except on .two occasions when we had company, and the result each time was that my husband could not sleep, but lay awrnke and tossed and talked half the night. We wer® convinced that coffee caused his suffering. so we returned to Postum, convinced that the coffee- was an enemy. Instead of a friend, and he is troubled no more by insomnia. “I, myself, have gained 8 pounds in weight, and my nerves have ceased to quiver. It seems so easy now to quit the old coffee that caused our ache* and ills and take up Postum.” Name given by Postum Co., Battle Creek, Mich. Read the little book, “The Road to Wellville,” in pkgs “There’s a reason.” Ever read the A>ove letter t A new sue appears from time to time. They are ffenuiae, true, and full of human interest