Walkerton Independent, Volume 58, Number 19, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 5 October 1933 — Page 2

Walkerton Independent Published Every Thursday by THE INDEPE N DENT-NEWS CO. Publishers of the WALKERTON INDEPENDENT NORTH LIBERTY NEWS LAKEVILLE STANDARD THE ST. JOSEPH ■ XH'NTY WEEK LIES Clem DeCoudres, Business Manager Charles M. Finch. Editor SUBSCRIPTION RATES One Tear ...» $1.50 Six Months . .90 Three Months 60 TERMS IN ADVANCE Entered at the post office at Walkerton. Ind., as second-class matter. COAL CODE SIGNED BY THE PRESIDENT First Removes Interpretation of Labor Clause. Washington. — President Roosevelt Signed the bituminous coal code in his Study and by executive order removed from it an “interpretation” of the labor protective clause of the recovery Set to which organized labor had obfieeted. Just before Recovery Administrator Pugh Johnson took the coal code to the White House, President William iGreen of the American Federation of Labor and announced strong opposition to the interpretation, which he believed laid too much stress on the tight of the individual worker to negotiate directly with the employer, and too little on the right of workers to organize and select any representatives they chose. The main points in the coal code are: Provides for fixing of minimum prices; prescribes a maximum 40-hour work week. Sets basic minimum wages for underground workers ranging from $3.75 to $5.63 in 16 districts. Recognizes rights of miners to Organize. Creates regional and national boards to govern the industry and settle labor disputes. The sale of coal at less than “fair market prices” is forbidden, and these prices are to be determined by regional marketing agencies and subject to government review. The labor provisions prescribed by the NRA are contained intact in the code. Also the workers are given the right to elect their own check weighmen, and are not to be required by their employers to live in company rented houses or to trade in company stores. There-is little change in the prevailing wage rates. President Roosevelt signed NRA codes for seven additional industries, including transit, gasoline pumps, oil burners, textile bags, underwear and allied products, linoleum and felt base, and flower and feather. Senator Robert F. Wagner of New York, chairman of the national labor board, appealed to employees and employers alike to avoid industrial disputes and bring their troubles to the board, if necessary, for peaceful settlement. Henry Ford, who did not sign the automobile code, hired 5.000 war vet- * erans for his plants in the Detroit area, taking them in groups of 300 and placing them as rapidly as possible. Officials of the company said this had nothing to do with the NRA. Only Veterans who are bona fide residents of Wayne county, Michigan, were given these jobs, and they had to have good service records and honorable discharges. Mayor O’Brien of New York Wins Nomination New York.—Mayor John P. O'Brien, the number one candidate of Tammanj Hall, won a walkaway nomination for mayor in the Democratic primary election, defeating Congressman Loring M. Black and Assemblyman Jerome G. Ambro by aproximately 3 to 1. In the scalping of Black and Ambro, however, the Tammany braves lost some head feathers. Their principal disappointment was accomplished by Frank J. Prial who won nomination as controller. Prial defeated the Tammany choice, John N. Harman. As a result of the verdict Tammany will go into the November 7 election backing O'Brien against a fusion ticket headed by Fiorella H. LaGuardia, Republican, whose nomination, along with that of a slate having fusion committee approval, was a quiet formality. Judge G. A. Shaughnessy of Milwaukee Is Dead Milwaukee.—George A. Shaughnessy, judge of Milwaukee Municipal court, whose administration of criminal trials made him known throughout the country, died in St. Joseph’s hospital, where he had been since suffering a physical breakdown a month ago. He was forty-eight years old. Anemia Is Fatal to Lenroot’s Daughter Los Angeles.—Mrs. Dorothy Lenroot Bromberg, thirty-nine, former assistant Fnited States attorney here and daughter of Irvine L. Lenroot, former United States senator from Wisconsin, died in a hospital here. Physicians said she suffered with a rare form of ' anemia. Evades Jury Duty; Fined for Contempt Richmond, Ya. —Wellford Gilman, Ashland farmer, was fined $lO for contempt of court in Hanover Circuit court when he declined to serve on a grand jury, two members of which were colored. $1,000,000 Flood Damage Wilkes-Barre, Pa.—Wyoming Vai- 1 ley's worst flood in years decended aft er taking at least two lives and causing $1,000,000 property damage. Four miners, trapped in a tunnel 1,100 feet below the surface, escaped. They were imprisoned fifteen hours. $300,000 Fire in Halifax Halifax, N. S.—Fire caused more than $300,000 damage in pier No. 2, destroying a Large consignment of flour and other freight before It v brought Tinder control.

THE STUDENT FRATERNITY I I i MURDER by Milton Propper Copyright, 1932, by Milton Propper WNU Service SYNOPSIS Stricken during initiation into the Mu Beta Sigma fraternity, Stuart Jordan, university student, dies almost instantly. Tommy Rankin, Philadelphia detective, takes charge of the investigation. An injection of poison is shown to have been the cause of Jordan’s death. Rankin finds all the dead student’s shoes are marked i with thumbtacks. His only known relative is i his uncle, Howard Merrick, St. Louis banker, also his guardian. It seems possible that some I person, not a member of the fraternity, was present at the initiation. Two students from the vicinity of Vandalia, 111., Jordan’s home town, Ralph Buckley and Walter Randall, figure in the investigation. A prominent lawyer, Edward Fletcher, present at the initiation, engages Rankin’s attention. Check stubs show that Jordan had been paying S4OO a month to some unknown person. A significant fact discovered is that a student, Larry Palmer, Mu Beta Sigma member, was drugged on the night of the initiation. CHAPTER IV—Continued “Patterson?” Rankin’s question held a fresh note of interest. “Was that who objected to him? What was Patterson’s particular reason for opposing Buckley?” Stanton shrugged. “I couldn’t say, because we don't require an explanation for rejecting a mere prospect. By our rules, that objection can be purely arbitrary. Or for that matter, to dismiss a pledgee who has proved unsatisfactory. Only it takes three dissenting voices to remove a pledge pin; and they are recorded by passing around the blackball box.” “Blackball box?” Rankin asked curiously. “Then you wouldn’t know who is responsible for the adverse votes, where pledgees are concerned?” “That’s right, the balk ting is secret. Up to initiation, any brathei can call for the box at any meeting, to recorf aider any one of them. Each brother deposits a ball in the box, white if favorable and black if not; no one watches him. The count-up decides the fate of the candidate In question.” “Do you know,” Rankin asked of Palmer, “whether Buckley had any idea that it was Patterson who rejected him?” The boy hesitated. “I ... I guess I told him,” he admitted apologetically, and Stanton frowned. “After the pledgees were ‘sewed up,’ I mentioned to Ralph how disappointed I was he hadn’t got a bid, and then asked why Ned held a grudge against him. When he said he didn’t even know Patterboc, I was darned puzzled.” “And was he aware that Mr. Patterson acted as Jordan’s sponsor, Mr. Palmer?” “I think I told him that, too. Because the next thing he wanted to know was whether we had offered Stuart a pin. I answered that we had and spoke of Ned as having backed him up.” It was what the detective had expected to hear. “Then Buckley must have seen Stuart at that first smoker, since both were present,” he said. “Very likely, sir,” Palmer agreed. “But if they met, I didn’t notice a thing to suggest they were ever acquainted before; and I was with Ralph most of the evening. In fact, his question about Jordan was the first time he showed any interest in him. And the last as well, that I remember.” “How did Buckley react when you informed him of Mr. Patterson’s association with Jordan?” Rankin inquired. “Did he make any comment about it?” “Not a word, sir. Come to think of it, it made him change the subject right away, and he didn’t raise it again.” “He never spoke detrimentally of the dead boy or tried to influence your vote against him as a pledgee?” The query echoed the detective’s perplexity. Again Palmer’s reply was In the negative, which failed to accord with his conjectures. He was at a loss to comprehend Buckley’s forbearance, when he should have been vengeful, until he realized that the young man’s position forced him to be silent. He dared not slander his rival, lest it reach Jordan’s ears and rebound on him. For the dead boy could set the university authorities to examine his previous record in school and thus discover the deception by which he had gained admission to Philadelphia. It was also probably this fear of disclosure that prompted him to avoid Jordan, if he encountered him at the fraternity smoker. Pondering the problem, the detective nodded in satisfied understanding. “To return to your movements, last night,” he continued his Interrogation. “Where did you and Buckley go for । your drinks?” Larry Palmer ran his hand through ! his hair. “Well, it isn’t all very clear I to me,” he said uncertainly. “But as | far as I can remember, we only visi ited one place—a kind of . . . speakI easy on Spring Garden street. I don’t now exactly where it was; an ordinary house somewhere between Twen-ty-fifth and Twenty-sixth streets near. . . .” “Yes, I know the place," Rankin fn- , terrupted sternly and critically. “How ' the devil do you come to be frequenting a joint like the Morton club?” The boy recognized the reprimand Implicit in his biting inquiry. “Oh, it wasn’t my idea, sir,” he explained quickly. “I never even heard : of it until Ralph told me about it. He first mentioned it early in February and suggested that we ought to take it in some night. It was different, he said, from anything I'd seen before. And when he spoke of it several times after that, my curiosity was aroused and I wanted to go; I had been to all

the speakies nearer the campus But somehow, things always turned up to prevent Ralph from making it until last night.” : Well acquainted with the underworld, Rankin easily identified the es tabllshment to which Palmer referred, from its location. The Morton club was generally known to the city author ities; actually, it wag more than a speakeasy —an elaborate gambling house where faro, roulette and a dozen other games of chance were played nightly for high stakes. “It was Buckley, then, who chose yesterday for the excursion to Mor ton’s?” Rankin asked next. “I suppose it was,” Larry Palmer replied. “He happened to ask mo last Wednesday when our initiation would be held; and when I told him the coming Tuesday, he seemed pretty disappointed. He said he intended visiting this ‘dive’ of his that evening. At first, I wanted him to postpone going there; I felt I ought to be at the initiation. But, as I was quite anxious ; to see the place, I finally agreed to go I along with him yesterday.” i “You’d have done much better to keep entirely away from it,” Rankin commented bruskly. “What time did you get there?” i “A little before eight, sir. Ralph seemed to know the man at the door and had no trouble getting past him. , He vouched for me and then we went into the barroom and sat down at a table for a few drinks. It was a , large room at the end of a long hall. . . .” “Yes, I'm acquainted with the layout,” Rankin informed the boy. “And after that?” For a moment, Palmer collected his , thoughts. “I started to feel strange , when I took my second drink,” he re- , lated. “I had a funny sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach and a ringing in my ears. I tried not to let on to Ralph about it, not wanting to spoil his fun. So I kept talking to him real fast, while the ringing got louder and louder and the room began to turn around dizzily, until . . . well, I just thought the lights went out.” “There isn’t the slightest doubt your drink was drugged,” the detective declared positively. “Or that Buckley slipped knock-out drops into it when you weren't looking.” He raised his hand to silence a question. “But finish your statement for me, Mr. Palmer. At what time did you leave the club?” Greatly upset by the direct accusation, the boy shook his head unhappily. “I can’t remember that, sir, any more than I remember speaking to you, later. My last recollection till I found myself in bed this morning, was of talking to Ralph. For a while. It is all a blank; I must have been out completely. In fact, I don’t recall ever quitting the speakeasy and working my way back to the house.” “You couldn’t tell me then, when Buckley also departed from the club?” “No, I lost complete track of him. Mr. Rankin. Only this morning, I thought of him again and wondered what had become of him. But I couldn't even remember whether he had returned here with me last night or not.” Rankin made no effort to conceal his disappointment. “And that is all the information you can give me as to what happened?” “Yes. sir.” The boy spoke with conviction. “Everything else has slipped my mind altogether.” "Except about your keys, Larry,” Ted Stanton prompted him. “You ought to mention you couldn’t find them when you got up today.” “What keys are these?” the detective asked quickly. “When did they disappear?” “My regular keyring,” Palmer replied, “holding my mail box key, the house key to the front door and others. But I don’t see that their loss means anything. I distinctly remember having them on reaching the speakeasy: they were In the same pocket as my loose change and I jingled them when I took out the taxi fare. And this morning, my money was still there but not them. I suppose they must have dropped out of my pocket while I was wandering around.” Rankin shook his head in contradiction. “No, I think not,” he stated reflectively. “I'm fairly certain that Buckley took them from you. He could never have got into the fraternity house without them, later.” Bit by bit, Palmer's story inevitably indicated that his friend was involved in Stuart Jordan’s murder. It revealed Buckley as unscrupulous, hesitating at nothing to gain his ends. And to his already potent motive for hating Jordan that Walter Randall had dis closed, it showed how the boy had crossed him three times more, fanning the fuel of his long cherished grudge. The murder, then, during the initiation, was actuated by a desire for revenge. And to take advantage of the genuine protection supplied by the setting. After Palmer’s account, Rankin no longer considered the scene of the crime an insurmountable obstacle to the presence of a stranger. Instead, it partly removed the barrier against such an intrusion. Students do not go about indiscriminately drugging one another; it followed that Buckley’s deliberate act on the evening of Jordan’s death had two direct connections with the crime. First, to insure that at least one fraternity brother would be absent from the ceremony, into whose place he could slip unnoticed. Otherwise, if there should be a quorum of 100 per cent, the in terloper would be speedily discovered. And he had to secure Palmer’s keys, to enter the house after the ritual began. Os course, there were still gaps in the evidence that stamped Buckley a murderer. Palmer’s story failed to suggest where he might have obtained the poison for the crime; nor was it likely to explain this point. Os more direct importance, Rankin could not figure out when Buckley might have had the opportunity to tamper with his intended victim's shoes, to identify him at the ceremonies. And how had he learned enough about the fraternity's secret ritual to know what kind of robes the majority of the brothers wore, or the fact that he would have access to Jordan’s wrists, at a certain moment during it? Also, where had he. a stranger, found out the secret code of knocks and passwords, necessary to getting past the

sergeant at arms, at the chapter meeting? The source of this information was a mystery, unless Palmer had been more indiscreet than he already admitted and talked freely to Buckley about fraternal rites. “You mentioned several occasions, Mr. Palmer,” the detective said, “on which Buckley inquired about the affairs of the fraternity. No doubt, you also discussed this subject at other times in your conversations.” The boy looked at him warily. “Well, naturally, Ralph was interested in our doings.” he agreed slowly, “and we talked about them now and then.” “Os course.” Rankin chose his words carefully. “What I want to know is whether he ever asked about your private business . . . those secrets known only to the chapter. Your signs of recognition at meetings, for instance —was he curious about them?” Palmer’s hesitation and sidelong glance at Stanton gave him the answer before he spoke. Too innately honest to dissemble, his vehemence failed to ring true. “If you mean,” he began, “whether I intentionally told him fraternity secrets. . . .” “Go ahead, Larry,” Stanton urged. “Tell Mr. Rankin how much you spilled to him.” “It was notiiing that isn't general information and common to all fraternities,” the boy asserted fervently. “I did chat with him, it’s true; and about three weeks ago, I described how our officers dressed like monks at the initiations, in yellow robes and hoods. But wiiere’s the harm in that statement? Practically every secret society in the country uses some sort of costume, so it wasn't anything he didn’t know before.” “Then he did question ,vou about your ritual and ceremony?” Rankin concluded, nodding. “I . . . yes, he must have,” Palmer confessed reluctantly, “though never directly, and I took it for just ordinary inquisitiveness. When 1 wasn't under the weather, I was pretty careful ; but every so often, we got to discussing the boys after a couple of drinks.” “Was that what you talked of at the Morton club,” Rankin demanded shrewdly, “while you drank and before you felt the effects of the drug In the liquor?” The boy frowned in his effort to concentrate. “I believe it was, since you mention it. Something about how we ran our Initiations.” “Try to recall exactly what facts Buckley asked you about, Mr. Palmer.” “But 1 can’t sir,” Palmer responded uncertainly. “That Is just the trouble. Like everything else last night. It Is all vague and indistinct; I was in a fog the whole lime. . . . Maybe Ralph wanted to know about our attendance. . . .” For some moments, Rankin continued in the same strain to refresh the boy’s memory of how much he had. however Inadvertently, Imparted to Buckley. But Palmer’s impression of once telling his friend the fraternity’s V i & r 1 - - The Sight of Rankin Produced Almost Ludicrous Results. rules on attendance was the only tangible item he elicited. Nevertheless in the end, Rankin was satisfied that Buckley obtained from him the knowledge he needed to enter the chapter room and approach Jordan. But this accumulation of incriminating proof was worthless, he realized, if Buckley could not have reached the fraternity house by eight-forty-five the night before. He must have arrived then, the second late comer, according to Lew Kurly, guarding the chamber door, or not at all. Obviously, he was not present at the roll-call at eightfifteen and the first late arrival was identified as Patterson. This all-im-portant element of time had to be established; Rankin dared not take it for granted. Since the boy was ignorant of when Buckley deserted him, the detective must seek that information at the club, itself. The doorman or the waiter who served the two students could surely supply it. As to Buckley himself, Rankin now decided not to interview him immediately. Instead, he would postpone that interrogation until he completed the case against him. The detective much preferred his visit to the Morton club to be unofficial. As an officer, he might encounter some difficulty in obtaining the required information; and he hesitated to resort to his authority to compel the club’s employees to speak. Whereas, as a guest, introduced by Palmer who already had an entree, he might question them casually on one simple pretext or another. Accordingly, on conclud' his inquiry, he requested the b< io accompany him to the gambling house that night, both to gain him admission and to point out the waiter who served him. And Palmer, on comprehending the need of the visit, agreed to co-operate with him. When the detective reached tne central bureau, his first act was to dispatch a lengthy telegram to the authorities of Aberdeen college. He asked for a verification of Walter Randall’s account of Buckley’s expulsion from that school; also a complete summary of the incident, such as he had promised Randall he would secure from the West. The message sent, he sought out De-

tective Sergeant Daniel Gilmore for the first assistance he required in handling the case. Due to its extraordinary nature. Gilmore was one of the few men to whom he would dare entrust it. For the enterprise included a measure of risk and demanded caution ; it had more than a slight tinge of illegality. “I’m not sure you’ll like my proposition, Dan,” Rankin said. J’lt may not agree with your principles; and if you don't think you ought to take it up, just say so. I’d tend to it myself, only there's this trip to the Morton club tonight, and tomorrow the boy’s guardian arrives. And this needs prompt action.” “That sounds rather serious. Tommy.” Gilmore commented curiously. “I hardly suppose though, that I'm more squeamish about resorting to a subterfuge than anyone else. At any rate. I'm free to lend a hand at the moment.” Rankin nodded his head. “That is one reason I brought this matter to you. The other is that I'd hesitate to propose it to most of the force. You see, I want young Buckley’s belongings and apartment searched thoroughly without his knowing anything about «t.” Gilmore hitched back In his chair for a moment, puffing meditatively. “Well, Tommy,” he gave his decision, at length, “it’s your case and you know the best way to treat it. I suppose 1 could manage it for you.” “Good !” Rankin exclaimed, gratified. “Os course, you'll have to wait until Buckley is absent; tomorrow morning during his classes would probably be the safest time. It’s doubtful if he could make trouble for us, but watch your step. We don’t want any embarrassment that can be avoided.” “You needn’t worry about my getting into a jam.” Qilmore smiled faintly at his advice. “All you have to do is to let me have the apartment address.” For a while, the two detectives discussed various other matters of mutual interest until Rankin left headquarters at eight-forty five. As prearranged, he met Larry Palmer at West Philadelphia station for their visit to the club together. He had instructed Palmer in advance how to present him. Their arrival automatically rang a buzzer; and to the staring eyes that appeared at the slit in the portal, the boy explained : “Pin Larry Palmer. You remember, Ralph Buckley introduced me here yesterday evening.” He spoke convincingly. “I've brought along a friend. Bill Kendall.” Rankin stood gazing about with all the apparent curiosity of a stranger; his hat. drawn at a rakish angle, wellnigh hid his features. For a moment, the piercing Inquisitive eyes studied both in silence. Then there came a grunt and the click of a holt thrust back In its socket. A tall muscular individual with lowering brows swung the door wide and permitted them to pass In. Thore were no customers at the tables, and Larry Palmer designated one of them, close to the entrance. “That is where Ralph and I sat.” he stated. “Later we Intended looking about the place; we might even have taken a flyer at the wheel upstairs. But first, Ralph suggested a glass or two.” The detective took a chair beside it. To account for his interest in Buckley's movements, he had prepared a credible fiction about Palmer’s desire to prove that after leaving the club, he had .visited a mutual girl friend. Supposedly, Buckley denied doing so; and his friend, so the waiter would be given to understand, hoped, as a jest to lay bare the misstatement. The detective considered it less suspicious to approach the waiter first, before the doorman. But the instant the waiter emerged from a door behind the steps, he realized the futility of his wish to remain incognito. The sight of Rankin produced almost ludicrous results. The man stopped completely; recognition brought a look of mingled amazement and apprehension to his sharp eyes and wizened ferret-like countenance. For an appreciable time, he stood motionless; then he vanished precipitately. Amusement twinkled in Rankin's eyes. “So that's what has become of Nick Luccia,” he remarked cheerfully. “1 often wondered; it is two years since I saw him last and I’ve rather lost track of him. . . . Well, it seems we will have to finish this business in the usual manner, after all.” “That was the fellow who served us,” Palmer said, a new respect in his tone. “You gave him quite a shock, sir.” “It isn't ahy wonder,” the detective Informed him. “Nick was one of the most clever pickpockets and petty thieves in the East; he got away with murder until I was instrumental in sending him up for a two-year stretch. That was five years ago, and he has evidently been laying low.” The waiter returned, talking volubly to a heavily built, well-dressed man, whose crafty look and florid face Rankin at once knew as the club proprietor's. The recognition was mutual. For all Gussie Morton’s affability in greeting the detective, the encounter manifestly disturbed him. ‘‘How are you, Tommy?” he greeted him. “It's a pleasure to see you.” And in some vexation, “How in the world did you get by Cassidy at the door?” Rankin shook hands without cordiality. “Hello, Gussie,” he returned. “It wasn’t difficult; I came In with my friend; this Is Mr. Palmer.” Completing the introductions, he went on: “How is business these days?” “Not like old times,” Gussie replied. “Things have changed since the lid was clamped on.” He paused a second. “But what can I do for you, old fellow? You never were very sociable and haven’t dropped in just to learn how we were getting along.” “Yes, I’m here for a reason.” the detective admitted. “As a matter of fact, I wanted to talk to Nick.” He lifted a reassuring hand at Morton's dismay and the more animated expression of consternation in the waiter's features. “Oh, my interest isn’t professional, at least as far as Nick in concerned; I merely have some ! questions to ask, which I think he can answer, about a chap who was here last night.” ■ (TO BE CONTINUED.)

"'IMPROVED J UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL SUNDAY I chool Lesson (By REV b H EITZWATER D. D.. Member of Faculty, Moody Bible Institute of Chicago.) ©. 1933 Western Newspaper Union. Lesson for October 8 SAUL IN DAMASCUS LESSON TEXT—Acts 9:1-31. GOLDEN TEXT—Therefore if any fnan be tn Christ, he is a new creature: i eld things are passed away; behold, ( all things are become new. II Cor. 5:17. j PRIMARY TOPIC—SauI Learning to Love Jesus. JUNIOR TOPIC—SauI Becoming Jesus' Friend. INTERMEDIATE AND SENIOR TOPIC—SauI Becomes a Christian. YOUNG PEOPLE AND ADULT TOPIC—What Is Conversion? 1. Saul’s Violent Hatred of the Lord’s Disciples (vv. 1,2). He knew full well that unless the movement set on foot by Jesus was stopped it would supersede Judaism. He was ignorant of the genius of Christianity. He did not know that “the blood of martyrs Is the seed of the church.” Prosperity may ruin the church, but persecution never. Stephen’s testimony intensified his hatred instead of softening his spirit It made him more determined than ever to stamp out the Nazarene heresy. •I. Saul Kicking Against the Pricks (vv. 3-9). The figure here is that of the eastern ox driver following the ox with a sharp iron fixed to the end of a pole. If the anima) rebels and kicks against rhe sharp iron, it but injures itself. This is the picture of Saul as he was madly fighting against Jesus. 1. A light from heaven (v. 3). The time had now come for rhe Lord to intervene. Saul was stricken with blindness and fell to the earth. 2. A voice from heaven (vv. 4,5). ; । This was rhe Lord s voice calling perI sonally to Sant In answer to Saul's । inquiry. Jesus said. “1 am Jesus. ; whom thou persecutes!.” Christ is so I definitely identified with the disciples that he feels their suffering and rec- । ognizes treatment of them as treat- । merit of himself. 3. Saul's inquiry (v. 6). The dicta- ' tor is now willing to be dictated to. 4 Christ's answer (v. 6). He told Saul to go into Damascus where Infor- { mation would be given him as to what he must do. 5. Saul entering Damascus (vv. 79). The savage persecutor went quite humbly Into Damascus, led by his attendants where for three days he remained blind and fasted. The day is coming when all who oppose the work of God shall get a sight of the glory I of the Son. either In salvation or In condemnation (Phil. 2:10, 11; Rev. 6:15 17). 111. Ananias Ministers to Saul (vv. 10-19). 1. Ananias' vision (vv. 10-12). In this vision he was Instructed to go to Saul, given the name of the street and Saul's host. 2. Ananias' fear and hesitancy (vv. 13-17). He knew of Saul's ministry and the authority by which he came. The Lord encouraged him to go, assuring hirr that Saul was no longer an enemy bur a chosen vessel to bear his name before the Gentiles. 3. Ananias obedience (v. 17). He wont to the house where Saul was stay ing, put his hand on his arm. and ■ affectionately addressed him as brother. He informed Saul that the Lord had sent him with a twofold message. a. “That thou mightest receive thy sight.” b. ‘Be filled with the Holy Ghost." 4. Saul baptized (vv. 18, 19). After j Saul received his sight, Ananias bap- ; tized hitn. It was fitting that Saul t should be baptized by one not having I official rank, since his ministry as an . apostle to the Gentiles was to be entirely independent of the twelve. IV. Saul Preaching in Damascus (vv. 20-25). 1. Whar he preached (v. 20). He preached Christ, that he is the Son of j God. This is the heart of the message of every minister and Sunday school I teacher. 2. Where he preached (v. 20). It was in the synagogue. Because this was the place of assembly for the Jews, Saul took advantage of the opportunity to tell them that Jesus of Nazareth was the very Son of God. 3. The effect of his preaching (vv. 21-25). a. People amazed (v. 21). They knew that the very one who had been the leader in persecuting the Christi- | ans in Jerusalem and had come to Damascus for the express purpose of bringing them bound to the chief j priest, was now passionately advocat- ■ Ing that which he had vehemently sought to destroy. b. Jews confounded (v. 22). Saul increased in spiritual strength and knowledge so that he confounded the Jews, proving that Jesus was not only , the Son of God. but their Messiah. c. The Jews sought to kill him (vv. I i 23-25). Being unable to meet his skilful use of the Scriptures, they took counsel how that they might destroy him. So intent were they upon killing him that they watched the gate of the I city day and night that they might i take him. He escaped their wrath, : being let down at night in a basket by , the walk WORDS OF WISDOM There are many men who have a , dyspepsia of books. : God sends us no trial, whether great ! or small, without first preparing us. 1 Prayer and pains, through faith In . Jesus Christ, will do anything.—John j Elliott. * * * Nothing earthly will make me give ■ ‘ up my work in despair.—David Livi I ingstone. What we can do is a small thing; but we can will and aspire to great things. Remember that your work comei only moment by moment, and ly as God calls you to work, he gives ; the strength to do it.

Life’s Real Enjoyment Increases With Years The intense joy of life, increasing as one grows older, is not limited to the few and the fortunate. I believe that any man or woman, however harsh his or her lot, is not, or need not be, denied it. However high the walls that appear to shut him in with his wretchedness, let him not forget that they exist only in his own imagination. And I believe that rhe day comes, if he desires it keenly enough, when he will find himself ir the midst of life as he has never seen it before, and the glory will be all that he can bear, at first. Time will be needed to accustom himself to living at this new height. He may be a drudge in an office, making out invoices, turning the handle of an adding machine. He may be opening and shutting the door of an elevator, saying in a monotonous voice, “Third floor: men’s and boys’ clothing, shoes, hats, underwear, neckwear . . .” He may be shoveling coal a thousand feet below the surface of the earth. He may as easily be she, taking dictation, as she has, year after dusty year, from a man who says: “Replying to your favor of January 3 . . .” He may be anyone, anywhere; the moment the scales drop from bls eyes and it is realized that the seemingly solid walls that hemmed him round were only the scales themselves —then, of a truth, nothing else matters. He can never be truly wretched again. — James Norman Hall in the Atlantic Monthly.. Hardly a Compliment Mistress —What did the ladies say when you told them 1 was out? Maid—Just smiled and said. “Friday’s not always an unlucky day.”— Stray Stories. Why Liquid Laxatives are Back in Favor The public is fast returning to the use of liquid laxatives. People have learned that the properly prepared liquid laxative will bring a perfect movement without any discomfort at the time, or after. The dose of a liquid laxative can be varied to suit the needs of the individual. The action can thus be regulated. A child is easily given the right dose. And mild liquid laxatives do not irritate the kidneys. Doctors are generally agreed that senna is the best laxative for everybody. Senna is a natural laxative. It does not drain the system like the cathartics that leave you so thirsty. Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin is a liquid laxative which relies on senna for its laxative action. It has the average person’s bowels as regular as clockwork in a few’ weeks’ time. You can always get Dr. Caldwell’s Syrup Pepsin at any drugstore, ready for use. Member N. R. A. afvES-l CAN DO \ DINNER DISHES J IN HALF THE 1 fc, -- — — w /THEN I MUST TAKE SOME) (gINSO HOME WITH MEy—‘Swil THAT EVENING WHAT SUDS? \ • .; Ino wonder grease ) EVEN your greasiest pots and pans come like new from Rinso suds—in half the time! Dishwashing's easy this way Saves your hands, too. And just try Rinso on washday! Soaks out dirt —saves scrubbing—clothes come 4 or 5 shades whiter. Getßinsoatyourgrocer's AMERICA'S BIGGEST-SELLING J i CXOA/J W PACKAGE SOAP r/ We do our part" ‘ Does Your Mirror Reflect Rough, Pimply Skin ? Then Use Cutecura and have a clear skin Anoint the ass cted partswith Uuticiira Ointment. Ua.-hoff after a short time with f utieura Soap and hot water and continue bathing for several minutes. Pimplea, rashes and all forms of skin, troubles quickly yield to this treatment. Write for tprrial folder on the care of the s tin Address: “Cuticura,” Dept. 14S, Malden, Mass. AND LUMPS-My Sp»cl»Hy 5 5 > ' B* Write tor Free i«0 P»s« Boo* W? Vlt W Or. Boyd WdUms. Hudeoo. Whc. WNU—A