The Daily Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 3, No. 245, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 18, 1916 Page: 2 of 4
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NORMAN DAILY TRANSCRIPT
STRIN6
AUTHOR OF "THE OCCASIONAL OFFENDER.'
"THE WIRE TAPPERS/' "GUN RUNNERS." ETC
NOVELIZED FROM THE PATHE PHOTO PLAY OF THE SAME NAME
- COrYKICHT. !*. v AaiHim, T«IWCta
FIRST EPISODE
On Windward Island.
The sea wind, freshening as the
lun fell low, riffled the shallower chan-
nel waters and struck Inland to cool
the heat-baked dunes of Windward
Island.
On the most westerly lip of that
Island, shaded by a grove of rustling
lucalyptus trees, a man and woman
Itood staring across the beryl-tinted
lea-arm to where the shores of South
Carolina lay low and dim in the dis-
tance.
"You were not made for o life like
this," said the man, speaking with that
full-voweled softness peculiar to the
Italian voice.
"It's the only life I've known for
Dine long years," she answered, with
out looking at him.
"And It's the only life you ever will
know," he declared with sudden bold
Oess, "If you refuse to wake up to the
fact that your husband Is mad. I am
a physician, and I know. No sane man
brings a woman to an island like this
to an island that's only fit for clams
and seagulls, and spends the best
fears of his life—yes, and her life—
looking for a nitrate mine that never
existed, and never could exist In such
a place."
"But my husband's workmen have
found traces of nitrate," protested
Mrs. Golden, fixed in her determina-
tion of loyalty.
Palidori, the Italian, laughed softly.
"And that nitrate, dear lady, was
planted there by Golden himself. For
your husband is deceiving you. He'i
■earching for gold, yellow gold, mil
lions of dollars worth of gold. Hut
that gold he will never find, for it
exists only In bis imagination."
"I cannot listen to words like that,"
protested the azure-eyed wife; "I will
not!"
"That's because you are afraid of
the truth. Why do you suppose Golden
has spent thousands and thousands in
saving his miserable island from the
ocean? Why has he put up seawalls
and dykes, and constructed a great
levee like that to keep the open At-
lantic from encroaching on these
precious sand fields of his, at every
high tide? Why, except to keep the
water back from that burled treasure
of his? And what has all this mad
ness brought to you?"
"I think I regret only the day that
brought you to Windward island," she
quietly replied, as their eyes met.
"And I, too, shall regret that day
If It means I must go away empty
banded."
"I think my husband would kill you
If he heard you speak to me like
this!"
Palidori shrugged a shoulders.
He is at least watching us from the
porch of the manor house there," an-
nounced the Italian. "And that I
must accept as a compliment."
"Then we must go back," said tho
iroman, visibly alarmed.
"And you go back not believing in
me?" asked Palidori as he walked bo-
lide her.
"I cannot believe you or believe in
fou! Even if what you say is true,
bow should you know his maps and
papers are worthless?"
"If you doubt me, I merely ask that
you hand me your husband's keys.
Then I will bring to you a bag of this
Chilean nitrate that ho keeps hidden
away in his inner study, that he scat
ters about in the plantation sands to
salt his famous mine with. You hesi-
tate, naturally. But if this is not true,
why should that inner room be so
Jealously locked and guarded?"
"It is guarded only because the
Golden Jewels are kept there," was
the triumphant retort; "Jewels worth
a king's ransom!"
"Yet his loveliest Jewel is not kept
under lock and key," murmured Pali-
dori. "Unless you tell mo you will
bring that key to the shrubbery be-
yond the manor house I will take you
In my arms here, under your husband's
eyes!"
"Stop!" cried the unhappy wife, as
be stepped closer to her.
"Will you bring the key?" for Pali-
dori knew that Jewels worth a king's
ransom were also worth one final ef-
fort.
She hesitated, white-faced, as he re-
peated the command.
"Yes," she gasped, as a fair-haired
child of six ran lightly from the manor
bouse steps to meet her mother.
Palidori, lighting a cigarette, turned
carelessly away and sauntered to-
ward the shrubbery of the eastern
point. Margory, the fair-haired child,
Shattered and fluttered birdlike about
her silent mother as she approached
the house and passed inside. But on
the wide loggia Enoch Golden, stem-
eyed and grim-lipped, paced back and
forth, seared by the fires of Jealous
suspicions. He wheeled about and
strode into the house.
He passed through the quiet room
until he came to his study and rang
for a servant.
'Ask Mrs. Golden to come here," he
commanded.
"She's down in the shrubbery at
the East point with Doctor Palidori,"
nervously acknowledged the old re-
tainer.
Golden leaped to his feet. He strode,
white-faced, through the Bilent house,
hurried on along the narrow garden
paths, and suddenly slackened his
pace as ho approached the thick shrub-
bery beyond. The sound of voices
came to his ear. Creeping forward he
cautiously parted the branches. There,
screened from the world about them,
Palidori stood gazing down into his
wife's eyes.
"I cannot give you the key," he
heard her say. "My husband still has
it."
"Then what can we do?" asked tho
Italian.
"I will give It to you tonight. It
will be safer then," was tho quaver-
ing answer.
"Then you must give mo more than
the key," murmured Palidori.
Golden, dropping back, staggered
away like a stricken animal and hoard
no more. His last hope had withered
out. The worst was known. He re-
entered his home, liko a man in a
dream. He sat gray-faced at his desk,
a Bweat of agony beading his great
body. Then, after an hour of silent
wrestling with his soul, the natural
belligerency of the fighting man awak-
ened in him. Seeing only one course
before him, he sent curtly for three
of his retainers, three huge negroes
whom he knew he could trust. To
each of these he handed out a belt and
holster containing a revolver. Then
he briefly and coldly gave his orders.
"This island," ho grimly announced,
"makes its own laws!"
And late that night, when tho hour
for his intervention drew nearer, he
was almost able to exult in finding
something against which to centralize
all his earlier vaguo suspicions. He
moved with both calmness and pre-
cision. He showed the quick instinct
of the trnined hunter in seeking cover
behind the heavy portieres, for the
French window beside him command-
ed a view of both tho library within
and the moonlit garden without. And
along the shrubbery of this garden he
soon detected Palidori stealing, car-
rying a traveling-bag in his hand and
a coat over his arm. Through the soft-
ly lighted library, a minute later, the
figure of Golden's wife slowly ad-
vanced. She crept out through the
French windows, which stood open,
stepped down Into the garden, and
passed on through the shrubbery to
where Palidori stood waiting in the
shadows.
Tho watching husband could see the
two como together, he could hear the
murmur of whispering voices, he could
see Palidori'B hand go out and clasp
the woman's.
"I will not go alone. I love you,
and I want you to be happy!"
Tho woman's answer could not be
heard. But Palidori, stepping sudden-
ly forward, clasped her in his arms,
and forced back her head until his
lips smothered tho cry that roBe to
her own.
It was then that the planter stamped
on the wooden floor, not with mere
rage, but as a signal to his waiting
servants. He could hear his wife's
call for help, for already his three
huge negroes had darted through tho
bushes and surrounded Palidori.
Tho Italian, drawing his revolver
as he wheeled about, found his fire-
arm suddenly knocked from his hand.
Even before Golden could reach him
he was seized and overpowered and
held a prisoner. The master of the
manor, once his path was plain, was
not given to hesitation.
"Tie up that man," was his curt
command, "and take him to tho manor
cellars!"
Then Golden turned to his wifo.
"You will come with me!" ho said,
i he pointed towards the open
French windows.
It was not until she reached the
center of the lighted room that she
turned and regarded him with wound-
ed yet pleading eyes.
"You have dishonored my homo,
and my name. That leaves you only
one thing to do. You will go from
that home," he cried, with increasing
passion. "I want you to go, and go
now, and never cross my path again!"
Wait!" she cried, with her hand
on her heart. "Listen to—"
It is too late for words, I said. Un-
til you leave this house, I cannot
breathe in it."
"But I did nothing wrong. Oh, God,
if I had only known! If I—"
"I want you to go!" he repeated.
Golden's hand trembled as she
passed out through the door, but oth-
erwise he gave no sign of the feelings
swaying him.
He took a great breath, strodo
ping post, tn© archaic branding irons,
the heavy oak stocks in which recal-
citrants were punished, together with
that flower of Inquisitional ferocity,
the Spanish Screw-Jack, an elabora-
tion of the thumbscrew, in which a
prisoner's hand could be inserted and
slowly crushed to a pulp. Yet cruel
as seemed these old-time implements
of torture, stained with the tears and
blood of another country, they were
no more cruel than the relentless light
in Golden's eyes as he confronted bis
prisoner, tied and trussed in a black
oak chair close beside the old Span-
ish Screw-Jack. Tho drunkenness of
blind rage sang through the planter's
veins as he watched his stalwart ne-
groes thrust the ancient branding iron
into its brazier of hot coals.
"That is the hand that polluted her
body," his heart kept crying, as he
commanded tho blacks to force Pali-
dori's free arm into the screw-jack.
"And now crush it!" he called aloud.
He waited for some outcry as the
screw tightened on flesh and bone.
Hut the Italian remained silent. Gold-
en, now white to the lips, ordered
tho negro beside him to take up the
branding iron. "For that is the face,"
a voice within the frenzied man's
heart kept crying, "that violated her
faco!"
The negro knocked the coal cinders
from the glowing iron. Palidori's mus-
cles hardened. But still ho was silent.
"Brand the dog!" commanded Gold-
en. "And after today I warrant this
handsome face will bring dishonor in-
to fewer homes!"
Once, and once only, as the heated
metal seared the flesh, Palidori
screamed aloud.
"That's enough," Golden suddenly
gasped, as he steadied himself againBt
"Taln't no use, masta," cried the ter-
rified negro. "Dev's a'ready flooded
more'n man-deep. And we'se all a'goin'
to be drowned—O Gawd, we'se all
goin* to be drowned!"
"Get down to those pumps!" thun-
dered Golden. "And get those sluice
gates shut!"
Ho had crossed the room, catching
up his hat and coat as he went, and
was already out through the door as
he finished speaking. Twenty steps
brought him to the loggia railing. And
Golden knew that no time was to be
lost, for already the sea had crept to
tho lip of tho manor garden itself.
"Get down to the wharf-cut and
bring the boats," ho commanded. Then
he swung back to his household serv-
ants, ordering them to carry above-
stairs everything they could seize.
Then, as tho water rose about his
feet, he suddenly turned and rushed
back into the manor house.
"Margory," he called, like a man
gone mad. "Margory, where are you?"
But that call remained unanswered,
for the old negro nurse, at the first
shouts of alarm, had caught up the
child and carried her out through the
servants' entrance, on tho way to the
wharf-cut where she knew tho boats
to bo moored. The child had proved
too heavy for tho quivering old arms,
so she had left the girl, with her kit-
ton still clutched to her breast, safe
in the doorway of a cotton-shed, while
she herself staggered out on Infirm
old legs to seize an empty punt drift-
ing by on the rising water. But the
current was too strong for her, and
as the negress and boat were carried
away the water rose still higher about
the child's feet. Yet, thinking more
of her frightened kitten than of her
own peril, as the flood crept closer
1—"Brand the Dog I" Commanded Golden. 2—Catapulted His Adversary
Over His Shoulder. 3—He Hurried Her Out of the Room.
one of the cellar pillars. "Now turn
him loose. And If he is seen on this
island, after an hour's time, shoot him
like a dog!"
A nervous sweat still showed In a
scattering of high lights across the
planter's sinewy faco as he locked him-
self in his study and stared blankly
about the empty room. The wine of
rage had already ebbed from his
blood. Exultation no longer shone in
his steely eyes. Ho crossed slowly to
the window and closed it. He failed
to see, as he did so, the stricken figure
that slunk like a wounded snake out
through the garden shrubbery, the
figure that nursed a crushed hand, yet,
at tho brink of the manor garden,
turned wrathfully about and held his,
uninjured arm above his head as he
said: "May my other hand wither ofT,
if you do not pay, and pay a thousand-
fold, for this!"
But Golden neither saw nor heard,
for all his being was centered about
his own misery of mind.
His face was still buried in his
hands when the old negro nurse
opened the door and his little daugh-
ter, Margory, in her nightdress and
holding a doll under her arm, crept
in to her father's side.
"Where Is mamma?" asked the child
at her father's knee. Golden steadied
himself with an effort.
"You have no mamma," he finally
said, looking away.
"But mamma was here."
It was too much for the torn and
passion-tossed father.
"Take her away," he cried out to
the old negress. "For God's sake, take
her away!"
Yet even when alone again his
agony of mind remained with him, and
again he sat in a stupor of misery
before his desk.
He was roused by the sudden clam-
or of voices, the excited cries of run-
ning negroes. He stared stupidly
about him. pulling himself together.
Then he rose and went to the window.
As he did so a negro, hatless and coat-
across the room, passed down the si- | less, staggered In through tho study
lent hall, and threw open the mas- door.
sive oak door that led to the manor
cellars.
These cellars were a series of
gloomy chambers, almost dungeonlike
in tho massiveness of their walls, a
relic of the older slave days when
Windward island was both a distribut-
ing point for the African traders and
a raiding place for the Caribbean free-
booters. In the largest of these cham-
bers still stood the time-worn whip-
"Someone's done opened all the
sluice gates. The sea's a-floodin' the
island!"
Golden was already on his feet.
"Get Johnson and his men down to
the East pumps, and start them work-
ing," he called out. "And you. Stark,
get Stevens and his men out to those
sluice gates and work them shut. Get
them shut If you have to swim out to
them!"
the child clambered up the broken tim-
bers of the cotton-shed to the roof.
There she sat, calling forlornly for
her lost nurse.
Golden, in the meantime, raged
through the flooded manor house
threatening and storming and com-
manding his servants to find his child.
He was still deep in that agonized
search when three of his old serv-
ants appeared with a small surf boat
and called frantically for him to como,
while there was still time.
Golden, water-soaked and wild-eyed,
refused their help, ordering them
away and proclaiming that he would
find his daughter. But as he stum-
bled amid tho drifting wreckage and
fell against the boatside the negroes
dragged him aboard and pushed off.
for already the water had weakened
the manor foundations and the walls
were falling about them.
Their progress was slow. It was
with difficulty in those wild currents
that they threaded their way amid the
levee timbers, outbuildings and melan-
choly debris of the plantation. More
swiftly-moving, in fact, was a second
boat which one of the negroes sud-
denly caught sight of.
Golden, rousing himself nt his serv-
ant's shout, saw that this second craft,
rowed by a bearded white man, was
bearing down on a nearby cotton-shed.
At tho same moment that he caught
sight of his daughter Margory on the
roof of this shed he made out the fig-
ure of Palidori himself directing the
movements of the bearded man so
frenziedly rowing the boat.
"My child—they will kill my child!"
gasped Golden.
Open laughter showed on Palidori's
sinister face, as with his sound arm
ho held tho struggling figure in white
close to his side.
"Have no fear of that." he called
back across the swirling water, as his
bearded confederate bent to the oars.
"She will live. But sho will live in a
way that will leave you praying she
had died!"
• •••••#
Twelve Years Later.
Casavanti, the cadet, was a firm up-
holder of the pregnancy of apparel.
He believed in keeping up appear-
ances. He even reveled in his appel-
lative of the Beau Nash of the Ten-
derloin. Hia clothes were of the lat-
est cut and from the folds of his nov-
elty cravat always flashed a "shiner"
of the first water. There was, accord-
ingly, almost a note of condescension
in his manner as he received "Slim"
Legato in his meretriciously sumptu-
ous sitting room. For "Slim," what-
ever his aspirations in crookdom, was
still a mere underling.
"Who sent this?" demanded Casa-
vanti as he took a note from his vis-
itor's hand.
"Legar," was the answer. The cadet
puffed languidly at a cigarette as he
opened the note and read it.
The girl I spoke of will come to-
nlflht at twelve. You will find her a
flower that it ripe for the picking.
And once the flower gets in your
hands I want It kept there.—Jules.
Casavanti restored the letter to ittf
envelope. Then he stood thoughtfully
regarding his visitor.
"Did anyone see you come here?"
ho asked.
"Not that I was wise to." was Sllm's
prompt reply.
"Thon see that you got as quietly
away!"
Slim Legato, accordingly, kept a
weather eye open as he emerged to
the street. Nothing suspicious mot
his gaze. It was not until he had de-
scended the steps and reached the
curb that a closed limousine, running
as quietly as a frozen river, flowed
along the pavement little more than
ten paces away from him. At the
first corner it turned sharply and
stooped, obstructing the crossing.
The debonair Slim drew up, blink-
ing suspiciously at the mysterious ve-
hicle. Then he blinked even harder,
for from the open door window of the
limousine a gloved hand had unmis-
takably beckoned to him. And the re-
markable part of it all, to Slim, was
the fact that the drawn car curtains
concealed everything but that mys-
teriously beckoning hand.
Slim promptly decided to investi-
gate. But he also decided to advance
with caution. Before he could place a
foot on the runningboard, however,
and thrust a pertly inquisitive head
into the hooded gloom of tho car, that
car began to move forward again. Yet
before it passed from his reach the
gloved hand thrust into hia own an en-
velope.
On this envelope was clearly in-
scribed:
"Dr. Ludwlg Palidori,
Care of Jules Legar,"
and beneath these words Slim's be-
wildered eyes made out the unmistak
able emblem of a laughing mask. What
it meant was more than he could tell.
So Inscrutable did this mystery
seem, in fact, that Slim, after one min-
ute of deep thought, promptly yet de-
licately slipped the blade of hia pen-
knife along the gummed flap of the
envelope and forced it open. On a
single sheet of paper he found written
the cryptic words:
"Remember the Hammer of God,
which smites, and crushes whom it
smites I"
Slim, the gay cat and gangster, puz-
zled much over this message as he
restored It to Its violated envelope
and adroitly resealed the flap.
"Now, who t'ell's gettin' his little
knocker out f'r the Doc?" demanded
that bewildered worthy of himself as
he made his guarded way back to the
underworld rendezvous which was
known to his confreres as the Owl's
Nest
The Owl's Nest proper was an un-
savory cellar room In one of the most
unsavory sections of the lower East
side. Years before It had been a wine
cellar, presided over by a Neapolitan
of Mano Nero affiliations, until a fed-
eral shoo-fly, in sesarch for "coiners,"
had been found stllettoed behind one
of Its casks of Marsala, whereupon
the Neapolitan had vanished and In
due time the Owl herself had taken
possession of the quarters.
With tho advent of Jules Legar, the
mysterious center of a mysterious cir-
cle of evildoers about whdm, sho
knew, It never paid to bo too Inqusl-
tive, life had become easier for her.
Her cellar, inconspicuous in a dis-
trict bo crowded with equally dubious
warrens, had proved precisely the type
of quarters the leader of tho new cir-
cle was in need of. And as Legar him-
self stepped down into the cellar, ad-
vancing with his peculiarly padded
tread as softly as an animal steals in-
to its lair, the Owl remembered that
the hour of her reward was not far
distant. For she had proved a jealous
guardian of tho fair-haired girl whom
Legar saw fit to keep hidden so long
from the world.
It was plain to see that Legar was
accepted as a leader by the half dozen
dips and gangsters and moll-buzzers
Into whose midst he had so quietly
slipped.
"Where's Legato?" he curtly asked
as he glanced about the circle.
That question answered itself, for
even as it was put Legato himself
slipped down into the dim light of the
Owl's cellar.
"What's this?" demanded JLegar, as
the new-comer, without speaking,
handed the letter of mystery to hia
chief.
"That's what I want to find out."
was Slim's retort. "A gink in a Fit'
avenue go-cart hands me this and
speeds off."
Legar tore open the envelope. His
ferrety eyes narrowed as he unfolded
the sheet.
"The Hammer of God again!" he
said with a sneer. But a troubled look
crept into his face as he stood study-
ing the message and the envelope in
which that message had come. Thon
he laughed. But it was a laugh with-
out mirth. "Palidori?" he muttered.
"Why should I know anything about
a man named Palidori?"
"Then we'll strike before the Ham-
mer does!" he announced, with sud-
den determination. And with a ges-
ture of impatience he commanded the
Owl to take him to tho girl, the hid-
den girl on whom still hinged his
dreams of vengeance. "McTigue," he
called back as he went, "get Tatano
and the taxi and be ready."
Yet he showed no exultation as h«
followed the hobbling Owl along a
darkened passageway and up a flight
of wooden stairs leading to the floor
above.
Bent over a table beside the barred
window he saw a girl, a girl still in
her teens, a girl with a look of in-
alienable innocence still In her mourn-
ful eyes. And Legar, as he crossed
to the table, saw that she was good
to gaze upon. Yet at the sight of him
she shrank back, letting the locket
which she had Just tied about her
neck fall from her trembling fingers.
"Don't cower that way!" command-
ed Legar. "I haven't come to beat
you. I guess the Owl gave you enough
of that."
"Then why are you here?" the ques-
tioning eyes seemed to ask him.
"I've come to tell you I think you've
had about enough of this sort of thing.
It's going to be stopped, and you're
going to see the world!"
"You're going to set me free?"
gasped the incredulous girl.
"Free as a bird!" announced the
ironic Legar. "And with as fino feath*
ers as any bird that ever flew!"
"I'm to be free?" Bhe repeated, still
dased.
"Sure! So get your things together,
and do it quick. There's a taxi wait-
ing downstairs. That taxi will carry
you straight to my friend Casavanti.
Casavanti is always kind to women,
amazingly kind."
He stood, ferret-eyed and Impassive,
watching the girl as she feverishly
gathered together her meager belong-
ings. He hurried her out of the room,
then along the passage and down the
narrow stairway and out to the street
where the taxi waited.
There McTigue sat ready for her.
That worthy remained silent, how-
ever, as a sob or two shook the girl's
body and a light of exultation shone
from her timorous eyes. She too re-
mained silent as they threaded their
way through the darkened streets and
drew up before a brown-stone house.
Up to the door of this house McTigue
led the still wondering young woman.
There his finger played cryptically on
tho electric push bell, sounding Casa-
vanti's pass signal, and a moment
later the door mysteriously opened and
the girl found herself alone. Even
before the door could close behind her
a silent-running limousine swung up
to the curb and a hurrying figure
stepped from Its runningboard. But
before that figure could mount the
steps and reach the house entrance
the heavy door had swung shut again.
And the wide-eyed girl, following a
footman in service uniform, mounted
the stairs to Casavanti's private
room.
TO KEEP HER
FROM FALLING
Would Hare to Catch Hold of
rhingi. Lost Strength and Flesh.
Doctor Recommended Cardui.
Results Gratifying.
Brookhaven, Miss.—"I am in fine
health now," writes Mrs. H. M. Rus-
sell, of R. F. D. 6, of this place, "and
have been for some time. 1 owe this
good health to Cardui, I am certain.
I think 1 would have been dead before
this if I had not taken that medicine.
I was down in bed five months last
summer. I had chronic inflammation
..., bo the doctor said... I suffered
untold misery, mostly in my right side,
but both sides hurt me—aching con-
stantly. I got to tho place where I
couldn't even eat without severe pain.
I had much headache and would often
be quite blind from dizziness. 1 would
have to catch hold of things to keep
from falling. I lost all my strength
and fiosh. I became so poor that I was
Just bones covered with skin.
"The doctor, , on his visit told
mo to get Cardui and go to taking
it... I took eight bottles In 3 months.
In Just a few days after starting with
it, I began to improve and kept on
until I got completely well. Today I
am in really good health. I can do
anything in the world in the shape of
work. I am sure that I owe this all to
Cardui. I would like to tell all women
80."
Try Cardui for your troubles. For
§alo by all druggists.
Not Altogether a Success.
"Yes," the young medico sighed,
"the healing profession is full of dif-
ficulties. The other day, for Instance,
I had a patient who ought to have
gone to a warmer climate. Couldn't
afford It. I decided to try hypnotism.
I painted a largo sun on the ceiling
and by suggestion induced him to
think it was the sun."
"And how did It work?" Inquired
tho listener.
The doctor passed a hand wearily
over his brow.
"He's down with sunstroke," he
said, sadly.
KIDNEY TROUBLE
WEARS YOU OUT
I had Kidney and Stomach trouble for
•everal years and lost over 40 pounds in
.. . . , _ . weight; tried every remedy that I could
Casavanti. as he looked up and saw and got_ no relief until I took Swamp-
her, let tho cigarette fall from his thin-
lipped mouth.
"The Doc was dead right," he said
under his breath. "She's a flower, all
right!"
Then, still watching the girl, he
said aloud: "Are you afraid of me?"
"No," was her answer.
"Then come here," he commanded.
But she still stood gazing wonder
ingly about the room. A suspicion
that all was not as it should be had
crept over her.
"Wrhy was I sent here?" she de-
manded, as Casavanti, white faced,
stepped closer to her.
For this," ho replied, as with a
sudden movement his arms went out
and encompassed her shrinking body.
Sho fought and struggled in that con-
taminating embrace, but her strength
was not equal to her captor's. Casa*
vantl, bending her body close to his,
cupped his Impassioned lips over her
parted lips. It was several seconds be-
fore he lifted his head.
Before ho did so, however, the closet
door on his right opened and a figure
stepped noiselessly out Into the room.
It was the figure of a man who wore
a laughing mask.
'One word, you hound, and it's your
last!" said the quiet-toned voice be-
hind the mask. But the revolver re-
mained pointing at Casavanti's head
as the stranger took the girl's hand
and backed slowly towards the hall
door. He groped for the door handle,
leveled his weapon and still watched
Casavanti. But the door, he discov-
ered, was locked. Perplexed, for one
short second he turned and looked for
the key. But in that instant the tense-
limbed Casavanti, beholding the re-
volver barrel waver from its target,
saw his chance and leaped for his
enemy.
The force of that Impact sent the
mysterious Intruder staggering against
the wall and the revolver itself clat-
tering across the floor. The girl
screamed in terror as the two con-
tending figures fought and writhed
about the room. Hurrying Bteps and
voices were already sounding from
outside the locked door, and Casa-
vanti, knowing the sllmness of hia
chances, was battling like a wildcat.
But the man In the mask, with an
odd and quite unexpected movement
of the body, brought into play that
familiar Jiu-jitsu trick of catapulting
an adversary over his own shoulder,
depending on the force of the fall
alone for any final result. And the
fall In this case was not a gentle one.
Seeing that Casavanti did not move j
where ho lay, tho stranger took the 1
doorkey from the stunned cadet's
pocket and called out for the girl to
follow him.
A moment later they entered the
limousine and drove quickly away.
"I guess that's one on Legar!" mur-
mured the still breathless man in the
mask.
"Who are you?" demanded the
young woman.
"I'm only a hammer," was the sud-
denly sobered reply. "The Hammer
of God."
(TO BE CONTINUED.*
Root. It gave me quicker relief than
anything that I ever used. I now weigh
185 pounds and am singing the praises
of I)r. Kilmer's Swamp-Root and recom-
mending its use to all who have stomach
and kidney troubles.
Respertfullv yours,
E. C. MENDENHALL,
McNeil. Arkansas.
Subscribed and sworn to Defore me, a
Notary Public, this 27th day of March,
1915. J. W. RHEA,
Notary Public.
Prove Whit Swamp-Root Will Do For Yoa
Send ten cents to Dr. Kilmer &, Co.,
Binghamton. N. Y., for a sample size bot-
tle. It will convince anyone. You will
also receive a booklet of valuable infor-
mation, telling about the kidneys and blad-
der. When writing, be sure and mention
this paper. Regular fifty-cent and one-
dollar size bottles for sale at all drua
storea.—Adv.
He Must Be In Town.
Mary, the doctor's little four-year-
old daughter, was playing outside the
office. A gentleman calling to see the
doctor inquired, "Mary, has your papa
gone to the country?"
Whereupon little Mary promptly re-
plied, "I guess he must be somewhere
In town, because all his country pa-
tients are dead."—Cleveland Leader.
BAD COMPLEXION MADE GOOD
When All Else Fails, by Cuticura Soap
and Ointment. Trial Free.
If you are troubled with pimples,
blackheads, redness, roughness, Itching
and burning, which disfigure your com-
plexion and skin, Cuticura Soap and
Ointment will do mush to help you.
The Soap to cleanse and purify th*
Ointment to soothe and heal.
Free sample each by mail with Book.
Address postcard, Cuticura, Dept. L*
Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv.
Happy Day.
"Did you hear that Barclay's wife
has gone away and left him?"
"No! Is that bo? I believe I'll go
around and borrow some money from
him wtrile he's In a cheerful mood."
Whenever You Need a Gene-al Tonic
Take Grove's
The Old Standard Grove's TasteleTS
chill Tonic is equally,valuable as a Gen-
eral Tonic because it contains the well
known tonic properties of QUJNINE and
IRON. It acts cn the Liver, Drives out
Malaria, Enriches the Blood and Builds
up the Whole System. 50 cents.
Wouldn't Hurt Him.
"Do you think that stimulants would
hurt me, doctor?"
"Not If you leave them alone."
DON'T GAMBLE
that your heart's all right. Make
6ure. Take "Renovlne"—a heart and
nerve tonic. Price 60c and <1.00.—Adv.
Time waits for no man, but he has.
to wal(t at least an hour when his wife
tells him to "wait Just a second."
Most particular women use Red Cross
Ball Blue. American made. Sure to please.
At all good grocers. Adv.
The very latest thing In dreaa good*
la a new baby-
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Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Burke, J. J. The Daily Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 3, No. 245, Ed. 1 Thursday, May 18, 1916, newspaper, May 18, 1916; (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc113218/m1/2/: accessed April 24, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.