The Syracuse Journal, Volume 5, Number 4, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 23 May 1912 — Page 3
NO MAN’S v LAND A M»ffi JgBIOUIS JOSEPH VANCE BY COj d Y/?/G'//7‘. fW 3YI<W/5 YA/YC£ /
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 falls 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 hq 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. 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. He discovers a man dead. Upon going further and approaching a house he sees Katherine Thaxter, who explains that her husband, under the name of Black, has bought the island. He is blind, a wireless operator and has a station there. Coast informs her that her husband murdered Van Tuyl. Coas? sees Blackstock and some Chinamen burying a man. They fire at him. but he Is rescued by Appleyard, who gets him to the Echo in safety, and there he re- ; veals that he is a secret service man and has been watching the crowd on the island, suspecting they are criminals. Coast is anxious 2 to fathom the mysteries of No Man’s Land, and is determined to save Katherine. Appleyard believes that Black and his gang make a shield of the wireless station to conduct a smuggling business. CHAPTER Xll.—(Continued.) The other vessel was entering the mouth of the channel, at the moment that Coast' put the helm over and brought the Echo’s green starboard eye Into view. A mile or 00 lay between them. Appleyard lifted the hatch and opened the throttle full, before setting out the port light. A shower of spray swept over the Echo’s counter as she bucked the tide. “That’s the stuff,” said the little man. “Now they’re wondering what ; particular variety of darn fools we are. Hold her as she stands —steady." Two throaty blasts from an automatic whistle floated down the wind. “What’d I tell you?” chuckled Appleyard. “She’s slowed down already,” he announced, although Coast was unable to discern any change tn the speed of the nearing craft. “It hurts to do this.” The little man jerked the whistle lever and educed a single, prolonged, derisive blast. “Lord! they must be cussin’ a blue streak! ” By this time the Echo had worked well up into the channel, the other vessel being about midway through. To a second signal, a solitary blast, Appleyard replied with two, in utter defiance of every rule and regulation tor the prevention of collisions at sea. A. husky shout of wrath answered this manifestation of landlubberly foolishness. Appleyard responded with three short barks of the whistle, the same signifying what was obviously untrue—that he had reversed his engine and was running full-speed astern; for at the same moment, in obedience to his low-toned command—“Sta’board, starboard your helm!” —Coast again put the wheel over and the Echo swung smartly on her heel, showing her port light and making as if to cut across the other’s bows at a moment when they were but a tew lengths apart. There was an instant of suspense , as the boats drew swiftly together. Coast held his breath and prepared to Jump should the threatened happen; it seemed certain that the sharp stem of the motor cruiser would crash into the catboat’s side. Even Appleyard lost something of his customary aplomb and betrayed the ■train upon his nerves. “Sit tight—sit tight!” he whispered between his closed teeth. “Don’t give an inch—they’ve got to—they don’t dare —ah-h!” The last was a sigh of relief as the cruiser swerved sharply in toward Basque, shot forward a couple of lengths and brought up suddenly with a churning screw—hard and fast aground. A moment later the Echo rounded gracefully to port within two yards of her stern; and simultaneously Appleyard, leaning far out over the combing, made an exceedingly cunning cast with a coll of line which Coast had laid in against the possibility of a broken halyard. The flying loops settled accurately into the water, Just above the foam kicked up by the cruiser’s propeller, and in another instant its motor stopped with a strangulated gasp. Out of the cloud of profanity that smoked up from the cruiser’s cockpit flew first one heavy spanner, then another. Both splashed heavily alongside the Echo. Not until they had drawn well out of range did Coast and Appleyard rise from the shelter of the combings. “So far, splendid,” commented Appleyard soberly, staring astern. “I reckon that, between the furrow they ploughed in that shoal and several yards of good hempen rope gumming up the shaft and screw, they’ll bide where they are a wee. Till the storm blows over any way. It ought to take a good diver or a marine railway to tree that shaft. . . . Now, if you’ll give me the wheel, we’ll go about and get ready for business. That was child’s play, alongside of what’s to come. Get the sail up, please.” For a space thereafter Coast had his hands full; the Echo was swinging out of the channel, past the hollow, despondent clanging bell, and the wind had found her with a swoop of fury and a wolfish howl. By the time he had trimmed the main-sheet the catbpat was sweeping onward at a rate little short of incredible. Steadily the guiding ’longshore lights swung round them, marking their progress: to starboard Cuttyhunk shining steadfast as a low-hung star, to port Gay Head lifting up its lofty beacon, astern, low down, a glimnaer, frequently lost—Nobska. No nhji«lights were there to bewilder; mariners hugged snug a night as that; the chance . . .
Touching Coast’s arm, Appleyard drew his attention to a tiny glint of light in the south, where No Man’s Land beckoned them from afar, across a weary waste of broken waters. Coast nodded, with a set, grave face, knowing that his hour drew nigh. CHAPTER XIII. About midway between the eastern and western extremes of the north shore of No Man’s Land, a little sandy spit juts out, forming, according to Appleyard, “what you might call a sort of cove, if you don’t care what you say.” To the west of it lies the only good anchorage near the island — one that can be termed such solely when the winds blow from the south. Into the poor shelter of this courtesy harbor, under the pilotage of Appleyard (who asserted that he found his way half by guess work and half by sense of smell) the Echo fought her way and as her anchor bit into the bottom and her cable tautened' brought up staggering, like a spent runner at the close of a long race. Only seamanship of a sort not inaptly to be called superb (but not less so than the courage exhibited by both men) eked out by Appleyard’s intimate acquaintance with the waters thereabouts, could have brought the Echo through in safety. Coast took ashore with him a new sense of respect and admiration for his companion. What emotions, if any, Appleyard entertained, remained inscrutable. Driving the boat through a quarter-
The Echo Took Her Chance Alone. ...
ing run of surf, they made an uncomfortable though not dangerous landing on the west side of the sand spit, drew the dory far up and set off, side by side, wet and weary, for the Cold Lairs—as they had christened, by common consent, the abandoned fishing village. They stumbled up to and through its empty street, a little wondering, a little apprehensive, more than a little alert and inclined to seek the touch of each other’s shoulders. They were, in the good old phrase, taking their lives in their hands in this phase of their adventure; and the sense of this clutched at their hearts with fingers of ice. That they would be recognized (save Coast by Katherine)as the men who had been on the island in the fog seemed little likely; so far as they knew neither had been seen but by the Chinaman whom Appleyard had stunned; and it was improbable that he had caught clear sight of either. There remained, however, a hundred masked dangers growing out of Blackstock’s certain distrust and misgivings, with a far-fetched possibility that the men stranded on the shoals off Basque would find seme means of escape and communicate with Blackstock by wireless from the mainland. It was not more than an improbable possibility, but none the leas it held its meed of danger, and they might not forget it, though Appleyard had argued and contrived plausibly against mischance.
Man of Fallen Fortunes
He Was Stirred to New Ambition by the Act of a Cigar Salesman. “Cigars of the brand I used to smoke,” said the man of fallen fortunes, “are, like those of many others, made In various shapes and sizes, to be sold at various prices, and of my favorite brand there was one particular size and shape that especially pleased my fancy and that I always smoked. Stogies I usually smoke now, but occasionally, when I feel that I can spare the money, I go In and buy a few of those fine cigars. “For one of these occasional fond smokes I went in this morning and, looking down into the case, I named my brand and reaching into the case the salesman brought out a box. But these were not of my size and shape; I indicated the ones I wanted, and the salesman brought out that box---clgars at six for a dollar, of which 1 now took three. I noted casually the
If the crew of the grounded vessel (he explained) chose to land ob Basque, they would better their condition not at all —merely exchange a comfortable cabin for the questionable freedom of a little two-by-foui island cut oft from Naushon and its habitations by the deep, swift cui rents that scour Robinson’s Hole. In another direction, it would profit them as little to seek the cheerless shelter of the life-saving station on Nashawena; it would require more than man-power to free the cruiser from the sticky clutches of the shoal, and their chances of obtaining a tow before the storm abated were positively nil. “You can tie to this,” Appleyard had summed up; “they’ll stay put till morning. And then a while. That’ll give me time to ’tend to their cases properlike. Even should I fall down there, we've got at the worst reckoning a clear eighteen hours. And if that’s not long enough for us to frame up a suitable last act for this thrilling draymah of "crrrime and hooman hearts, we ain’t fit even to dope out a scenario for a moving-picture film; and I for one will make up my mind to shake the legit, and try to make a deni in the two-a-day.” From whicn pronouncement Coast drew what comfort he could. . . . The bunaglow occupied what was apparently the brow of the island’s highest ridge, something like a quarter of a mile to the south of the farm-house and near the southern shore. As they drew nearer Applegate slowed down to a cautious walk. At a fair distance from the lighted window both paused, as if seeking some final word; then, without speech (it would have been necessary to shriek to make oneself heard in that exposed spot) Coast caught the little man’s hand and gave it a long, friendly pressure. He turned and moved a few paces toward the house. When he looked back Appleyard had melted into the darkness. He passed a window so misted with moisture that he could have seen little within had he wished or stopped
to look. He turned a corner, moved past another window, and came to a door before which he stopped a long minute, not hesitant, but pulling himself together, realizing but on the whole not sorry that he now stood alone, had only himself to look to whatever the emergency the next few hours might give rise to. On the other side of those panels were the only two beings in the world who strike upon his heart-strings every chord in the gamut of the emotions; and he must be prepared to experience them all and show himself unmoved, at least »outwardly. . . . Lifting his hand, he knocked loudly, and without waiting turned the knob and entered. A tearing blast of wind accompanied him, for the door faced the east. He had a brief struggle with it before he got it closed and faced the light—his heart in his mouth, if the truth is to be told. To Coast’s unspeakable relief he found Blackstock alone. Apparently the man had been sitting by the table, his feet on a near-by stool; but when Coast discovered him he was standing in that dogged, forceful pose of strength and preparedness which seemed somehow peculiarly his: with his feet well apart, his heavy body inclining forward from his hips, his broad shoulders a trifle lifted, his round and heavy head thrusting forward on its thick, strong neck. (TO BE CONTINUED.)
card on the box which the salesman had first brought out, and that card I confess gave me a little thrill of pleasure and then, what was better, a stir of ambition. “The cigars in that other bqg were three for a dollar, and had not the salesman brought them out to me confidently as If I were that sort of a customer? He certainly had, and I must look it And if I looked it why should I not be it? Why should I continue to be a stogie man? Why should I not retrieve my fallen fortunes and far surpass them—come te be not .merely a six but a three for a dollar man?” Infectious Laughter. Some of our prominent scientists are so impressed with the germ peril that they go around looking pretty solemn all the time, on the theory that laughter is both contagious and infectious. , 1 9
wnow ALLENS'
HAT IS the genealogy of the clan of the “fighting Allens?” What are the racial strains and what the physical and social environment that have combined to produce this race of fearless fighters that has terror-
W
ized Carroll county, Virginia." The question is an interesting one entirely apart from the academic theories of heredity. It is a question thensands of law abiding Americans doubtless have asked since the commission at Hillville of one of the moist astonishing acts in the criminology of a civilized country. No man is better qualified to answer the question than Judge David W. Bolen. He is a leader of the Carroll county bar, was a delegate to the Virginia state consolidation convention, and is one of the most thorough students of Virginia history to be found within the borders of the Old Do-
k J
. J ?w IX
minion. A neighbor of the Allens I from boyhood, their attorney and counsellor in many of their civil and criminal bouts with the law, he has personally known the Allen clansmen of three generations. As counsel for Floyd Allen, he stood beside his client when the latter opened fire upon the court officers and jury, and Judge Bolen himself narrowly escaped death from the bullets intended for the convicted man. He escaped by prostrating himself upon the court room floor until the rain of lead had spent itself. It is not without reason that the Carroll county Allens are referred to as the members of a clan. The first of their forbears who settled in this vicinity in Colonial times came of Scotch-Irish stock—a strain often of sterling worth, but ever with a touch of clannish family pride, and usually with more than a touch of pugnacity, impatience of restraint and fighting courage. In Revolutionary days what is now Carroll was Montgomery county, Virginia. One of the members of the Montgomery county militia who left his plow and his ax to march across the Blue Ridge in time to take part in the battle of Guilford Court House, N. C., was William Allen. The militia detachment marched across the Ridge byway of the Fancy Gap road, the same thoroughfare over which armed scouts have been scurrying to and fro in search of this Revolutionary soldier’s scion, on whose head the outraged law has out a price. As William Allen marched to battle he observed that the rolling land on the far side of the Fancy Gap was attractive. When the Revolutionary war was over he and one of his fellow sol-' diers settled there and so the Allens became established in the quarter which they have ruled ever since like feudal barons. Tradition says William Allen was a good soldier. He was destined to be the progenitor of many good soldiers. He had two sons, only one of whom, William Allen, Jr., concerns this narrative, for the second, William, was the father of two sons, Bailey Allen and William Carr Allen. Bailey Allen had four sons—Lemuel, William, Carr and Bailey Allen, jr. Os the four three were gallant soldiers in the Confederate service during the Civil war. Lemuel was killed in a charge during the second battle of Bull Run, or, as is generally designated in the south, the Battle of Manassas. William, who was a private in the same company, saw his brother fall, paused long enough to lift his stricken form and to note that he was dead, and then went on in the charge upon the Union position. Carr Allen survived four years of active service. He was a soldier whose dash, courage and gallantry were uniformly praised by his officers. As a Confederate veteran and a good neighbor, he lived until about ten
ARTIST AND COURTIER, TOO
The painter is likely to be brusque. Even when he possesses a bit of tact, he is not wont to waste it on “Philistines” —even if they are customers and persons of distinction. No such charge, however, can be brought against an eighteenth-century painter named Chandler. He was commissioned by William IV. to paint the attack commanded by the sovereign, when Duke of Clarence, on a fortress on the Spanish coast. The attack took place at night, and with the view of relieving the somber veil of midnight, the artist took the liberty of introducing seagulls skimming the clouds. “Helle!” exclaimed his majesty, when he first saw the painting. “It will never do to have the birds flying about at night They were all gone to roost” "So they were, your majesty," artfully agreed the artist, “but you gave such a rousing broadside with your guns that they all woke up and flew about"
BBS -"'S > \ oot»Vß.rc>M-r xy o.v.
years ago, when, at al good old age, he was shot any killed by Mack Howlett, and Howlett was lynched, after a band, believed to have included members of the Allen clan, had taken him from the Hillsville jail, the keys of which were surrendered by the jailer, who was a cousin of “Jack” Allen’s wife. Os the four sons of Bailey Allen the black sheep of the family was Bailey, Jr. Judge Bolen was called upon to defend him against numerous criminal charges, and he was finally sentenced to a long term in the state penitentiary for housebreaking and burglary. William Carr Allen, the other son of the second William Allen, was the father of Jeremiah, Robert and John. Jeremiah also was a loyal soldier in the army of the south. He married the daughter of one of the most famous of the old trappers of the Blue Ridge mountains, “Uncle Billy" Combs. The Confederate veteran and the daughter of the old trapper raised a large family of boys. Their sons were Anderson, who died a years ago after having served as a member of the Virginia Reserves during the last ten months of the war; Washington, who was killed by the fall of a tree; Victor, ,who is the highly respectable and respected keeper of a country store a few miles from Hillsville; Garland, who is a preacher among the Primitive Baptists; Floyd, whose refusal to accept sentence of imprisonment caused the Hillsville massacre; Jasper, generally called “Jack,” whose son Freel is the youngest of the clansmen now imprisoned on charges of conspiracy and murder, and finally Sidna Allen, who is regarded not only as the most wealthy, but also as the master mind of the clan. A sister of the seven sons of Jeremiah Allen is Mrs. Edwards (now Mrs. Mundy), whose sons by her first husband were Sidna and Wesley Edwards, the first of whom surrendered himself to his uncle “Jack,” while Wesley preferred to share the hardships of the mountains with his uncle Sidna. The other members of the younger generation who are directly involved in the Millsvllle affair are Claude and Victor, who are the sons of Floyd Allen/ and Freel Allen, who is the son of “Jack.” “A study of the genealogical tree of the Allens,” said one who knows them well, “shows that, while many of the clan have been fighting men, it is only those of the present generation who have been what is commonly known as gun fighters. Old Jeremiah was a hard fighter even after the war was over, but he fought with his fists. “All of the seven sons of ‘Jerry’ Allen were men of strong personality and of fierce, imperious temper, but Anderson, Washington, Victor and Garland learned the important lessons of restraint and self control, while Floyd, ‘Jack* and Sidna have
“Ah, so 1 did!” assented the royal critic, with more than royal naivete. “I forgot that. Very good! Very good! ” —Youth’s Companion. Judging Races by Camera. Now that running races are about to commence, further attention will be given to a highly practical invention for automatically judging the position of horses at the winning post, particularly in cases where close finishes occur, says London Answers. Briefly, the mechanical race judge' is an ordinary photographic camera. Across the course a fine woolen thread is stretched, breast high to the horses. The moment this thread is snapped the shutter is opened and a phottographic record results. The actual development of the negative is but the work of a few moments, and prints can be actually distributed in quite a short time. The chief utility of the invention lies in the fact that it eliminates the human element from the judge’s box
never brooked restraint nor tolerated opposition. “To students of heredity ft might be interesting to speculate to what ex tent the soldier strain of the Allen family was tinctured by less noble, more primitive influences engrafted into it from the maternal side. The mother of the seven Allens who are the middle aged men of the present generation was the daughter of ‘Uncle Billy’ Combs, the toughest old woodsman and trapper known to the history or traditions of the Carolina mountain border. ‘Uncle Billy’ died at the age of 104. “He tramped the mountain fastnesses habitually in his bare beet, the heels and’ soles of which had become so calloused and hooflike that he thought nothing of killing diamond back rattlers by tramping upon them. “Like other mountaineers of his day, ‘Uncle Billy’ not only trapped or shot the wild beasts of the mountain, selling their pelts, but he made a respectable income by domesticating the wild honey bees and by raising droves of mountain hogs, which, until the advent of warm weather, would run wild and fatten upon the chestnuts and acorns of the forests." Judge Bolen remembers “Uncle Billy” Combes in his later years. “I recall,” said the lawyer, “that he once showed me a spot on the mountain where a panther had leaped out from cover and seized one of his mountain hogs as his prey. ‘Uncle Billy’ went to his cabin, got his dogs out aid then summoned one or two of his nearest neighbors. For two days and nights they stalked the panther, until the dogs finally ran the beast into a tree, where ‘Uncle Billy’ shot it and skinned it for its pelt” “Uncle Billy” Combes stood six feet three inches tall and was muscled like a lion. He always wore buckskin breeches and a fur trimmed roundabout Jacket. On his head a coonskin cap was poised rakishly, and until his death, about 45 years ago, he never was seen without his shot pouch and powder horn. “Uncle Billy,” though phenomenally strong, was a peaceable man among his fellows, and died much beloved and respected. His son “Jed,” however, endowed with much of his father’s physique, was a noted bully ol the mountainside. “Jed” had met and conquered many rivals, but he had never tried conclusions with Ike Beamer. Ike was, like “Jed,” a giant in strength and with sinews of steel, but Ike was neither quarrelsome nor ambitious to shine as a bully. “Jed” determined to force him to fight, trumped up some imaginary debt and went to Ike under pretense of collecting it. “Jed” knew it probably would give him the opening he and his satellites had been craving. Ike listened calmly. Then he remarked: “Jed, you know I don’t owe you no such sum, but folks is saying I do owe you a tolerable good thrashing. Are you prepared to collect that debt, too?” “Jed” needed no urging. The two mountaineers went at it, and tradition says it was a battle of giants. Time and again the men, evenly matched, had to cease from sheer exhaustion. Then they clutched each other while they panted for breath. It doubtless would have been fought to a finish, but friends of Beamer interfered. Neither man had “squealed.” According to the mountaineer code of pugilism, it had been a drawn fight Beamer had lost the index finger of his right hand, which “Jed” Combes had worried in his teeth until he chewed it oft at the middle joint. Ike had thrust his thumbs so remorselessly into “Jed’s” eye sockets that the bully was blinded, and did not regain his sight until weeks afterward.
when a race is a very close thing. Not long since, an absolutely perfect dead heat was recorded with this instrument Early Chimney Pots. Silk hats were known in France some years before John Hetherinton frightened Londoners by wearing one. They came in with the French Revo--1 stion, when all patriotic citizens aban-. < med wigs and had their hair cut short. Engravings printed so early as 1790 depict sans-culotte dandies wearing top hats. In a rare print of the trial of the Girondists, which took place in 1793, all the judges appear crowned with silk hats. Although the silk hat is not much more than a hundred years old, hats of that shape were worn hundreds of years before. In Elizabethan times a cylindrical hat with a Brim rather similar to that of the "fifties,” and with the addition of a plunie, was worn by the nobility. According to Raphael, ft was worn very ninth earlier than that A red top hat appears in the cartoon "Paul Preaching at Athens." I
iif Get This g FREE Book Before You Decorate » It shows 20 pretty rooms in modern hornet and how to get the very latest designs tor -your home. We will send you FREE colot plans made by expert designers for any rooms you want to decorate. The Beautiful Wall Tmt .‘3 more ftshionable than wail paper or paint and coata far less. It is too refined and exquisite in color to compare with any. Ipnd of kalsomine. Goes further' on the walls, does not chip, peel or rub off. last® far lunger. 10 Beautiful Tints. Cornea all ready to mix with cold
w»ter and put on. Easiest to use — full directions on every packape. Full 5-lb. pkt.. White. SOc; Regular Tints. 55c. Get the FREE Book of 20 Beautiful Rooms Write today. Alabastine Company 51 Grandville Rwd, Grand Rapids. Mick. Mew York Uty. Desk 7.105 Water Sired
vhjto
Many a fellow who puts up a good front is taJked about behind his back. Garfield Tea is' unequalled either as ax Occasional or a daily laxative. ' . The dyspeptic should choose carefully what he chews carefully. Red Cross Ball Blue, all blue, best bluing value in the whole world, makes the laundress smile. The woman who doesn’t care who knows her age is never over twentyfive. s Stop the Pain. The hurt of a burn nr a cut stops when Cole’s Carbollsalve is applied. It heals quickly and prevents scars. 25c and 50c by druggists. For free sample write t» J. W. Cole & Co.. Black River Falls, Wlb. It’s an easy matter to forget an injury, provided you don’t keep forgetting you have forgotten it. Garfield Tea keeps the liver in condition, \ Insuring a clear head and good general health. , Drink before retiring. , Every man has some, good In him. but sometimes it takes a lot of coaxing to bring it out. When Your Eyes Need Care Try Murine Eye Remedy. No Smarting—Keele Fine—Acts Quickly. Try It for Red, Weak, Watery Eyes and Grantilated Eyelids. Illustrated Book in each Package. Murine la compounded by our Oculists — not a “Patent Medicine’’—but used In successful Physicians Praptlce for many years. Now dedicated to the Public and sold by Druggists at 26c and 60c per Bottle. Murine Eye Salve In Aseptic Tubes, 26c and 60c. Murine Eye Remedy Co., Chicage All He Wanted Was Just Plain Eggs. A youth entered one of the “ham-and-row” 4:afes on Grand avenue and ordered eggs. “Up or over?” asked the man behind the counter. “I just Want eggfe,” replied prospective diner. “But do you want them up or over?” repeated the waiter, and again the guest asserted that he desired ‘‘only eggs.” The third time the party of the second part Insisted on his query, whereupon the "patron, with a sigh of despair, said “I guess I’ll take a steak.”-r-Kansas City Star. They Saved His Life. Does it pay to stop your motor car after an accident and go back to see what has happened? Two young motorists on the south s!de believe it does. With a green chauffeur these two boys were trying out a new model touring car. They were sitting in the back seat when the greenhorn at the steering wheel. gave it a twist and came within an ace of hitting an old man at a crossing. The victim was so shocked that he fell to the pavement, and a crowd gathered in an instant. Looking back, the motorists decided that things looked bad, but that they had better go back and see whether the old party was killed. Finding him all right, but winded, they took him for a nice ride around the parks. So pleasant did they make it for him that when they took him home to hiq wife he introduced them as “The two young men who saved my life." * They are now thinking of applying ■ for Carnegie medals. KNOWS NOW Doctor Was Fooled by His Own Case For a Time. It’s easy to understand haw ordt nary people get fooled by coffee when doctors themselves sometimes forget the facts. A physician speaks of his own experience: “I had used coffee for years and really did not exactly believe it was injuring me although I had palpitation of the heart every day. (Tea contains caffeine—the same drug found in coffee—; and is just as harmful as coffee.) "Finally one day a severe and almost fatal attack of heart trouble frightened me and I gave up both tea and coffee, using Postum instead, and since that time I have had absolutely no heart palpitation except on one or two occasions when I tried a small quantity of coffee,which caused severe irritation and proved to me I must let It alone. “When we began using Postum it Beemed weak —that was because we did not make It according to direction! —but now we put a little bit of butter in the pot when boiling and allow the Postum to boil full 15 minutes which gives it the proper rich flavor and the deep brown color. “I have advised a great of my friends and patients to coffee and drink Postum, in fact I dally give this advice.” Name- given by Postum Cb., Battle Creek, Mich. Many thousands of physicians use Postum in place of tea and coffee In their own homes and prescribe it to patients, “There’s a reason,” and it is explained in the little book, “The Road to Wellvllle,” in pkgs. Ever read the above letter? A new one appears from time to time. They are genuine, true, and full of human Interest.