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PAGE TWO
H * * * * ********** ™E PRAQUE record * * * * ********
Bu RICHARD PARKER
&
Bassd on th« dtatni of
HOI COOPUH MEGRUE
Author of "Under Cover" and co-aulhoi
of "It Pays to Advertise"
Captain Redmond asuen.
"In half an hour!" she agreed.
In the doorway Georgy Wagstaff
cast a roguish glance back at her
pretty governess.
'Beware of the military, Ethel—es-
"I couldn't do that." he explained. "I
wanted her to he happy; hut I couldn't
quite bear to Bee her happiness with
my own eyes. And so I ve tosse*!
away the last twelve months—no good
pecially when he's Irish!" she warned to anyone!
"Yet now you've come back, she
said sadly, to her elf more than to
him. She could not help remembering
Ethel. |
In Another moment Miss Willoughby
and Captain Redmond were alone, she
herself seated upon the wide settee.
ISut llic captain, apparently, dared not
trust himself nearer her than the stool
upon which lie perched Just where he
could not touch her. There had been
a time when he and Ethel were undls-
gulsedly fond of each other. Iiut now
lie was scarcely sure of her sent!-1
i nients toward him.
I "So, Larry, you've actually come
back at last," she said.
SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTER I—Ornriry Watmtaft, daugh-
ter of Sir George, "f tlie British udinlr-
ttlty. hints at u Unison l>et\v<fn her tt"v
*rnem. Kthel Willoughby. and Henry
Btreetman. Ethel denies It.
CT' M'TKB II—Henry Streetmnn '-alls
Or . thel and while waiting for her talks
Brewster, Sir George's butler, who Is *
1 ,erman spy, about his failure to g'-t at \
Admiralty pupers In Mr Ueorg«"w pun- i i
• Ion. He phones to Uertr.tw  e ret aer .
Ice headquarters.
CHAPTER III—When Ethel apt""
he tries to force her to get from 8b
Beorio- knowledge of the Maillot? order*
to the llrltlsli tleot. Though she hell.-. -
him a French Instead of a German *
she refuses until he threatens her. Sh*
bega him to announce their secret mur- (
rlage, as Georgy Is suspicious, but he puts
her off.
"I wonder If It can seem as long to
| you as it docs to me," lit" mused.
"I don't know—perhaps!"
"Do you mind when I saw you last?
'Twas at a dance on the river—"
"At Marlowe!" She had been far
what he hail Just said about the Irish
being too late.
He turned to her eagerly.
" 'Twas only the other day In Pana-
ma I picked up a copy of an old Times
—and I read there n paragraph about
her. She was still Miss—Miss—and so
| I'm here," he said pointedly, though he
I had mentioned no name to identify the
girl of whom he spoke.
| "Here?" she asked, as If perplexed.
\ He went to her then.
| "Ethel! Ethel! I want yon to marry
j me!" he besought her. Ho kneeled up-
j on the settee beside her. "Please God,
j say you will!"
Oh! Larry! Larry!" She was both
,In the afternoon and on our way to
Switzerland. 1 know the darlln' of a
place, right by a rushing river, In the
very shadow of the snow! And think
,how young we are! We've fifty years
ahead of us—fifty years of love and
happiness! Just you and me, my dear!"
Captain Redmond kissed her hand
then.
She had listened to his rapid words
as if It were all a dream—some beauti-
ful dream from which she suddenly
awoke to the stern reality of life, with
Its bitterness and its disappointment,
its disillusions and its heartaches.
"Larry—I am married," she said
slowly.
VIVID DESCRIPTION
OF FIRST-AID WORK
BY RED CROSS MEN
An American Pictures Scenes in
Subway Dressing Station
Near Trenches.
from forgetting that pleasant memory, j happy and sail—happy to know that lie j "I'm
"Then you do remember!" he cried really loved her, but desolate when fpssed.
CHAPTER VIII.
Doubly a Villain.
Larry Redmond paused, dazed, and
dropped her hand, while he looked at
Ethel uneomprehondingly.
"Married?" be stammered. "No, no,
it can't be! You're playing some
gam$! It can't be true!"
secretly married," site con-
wlth delight. "It was my first one-
step!" he told her.
"You ruined my slippers," she re-
minded him, to tease him.
"Did I? Then it was punishment
that when 1 came up the second time
wild taxlcabs wouldn't drag another
dance from you?"
"No, you were too late," Ethel ex-
plained. She had no wish to be too
hard on him.
"Too late! That's the tragedy of the
Irish! We're always too somethin'-
, . too late or too early—too sentimental
,„Cv£APC..r    ileal too shy or too bold. We
 nd Streetman makes an awkward at- laugh too much and we're too sad.
tempt to talk polities
CHAPTER V—Charlie Brown, newspa-
per man of New York, entertains the tea
party with his views on the threatened
war In EuroDe.
CHAPTER VI—Guy Falconer declares
that If war eomes he will go to I uba-^HIs
mother and Sir George reprove
Charlie says Guy Is spoofing
hli
We're too much In love or not at all.
We're way up or we're way down."
"In fact, you're Irish," she interpo-
lated sol'tly.
"You sound ns If you lilted us—
Irish," lie rejoined.
She gave him an enigmatic look.
"I love you—Irish." she replied.
"Larry, I am glnd to see you." she " 'Tls a lucky race we are!" lie told
said from the bottom of her heart. \V1111 great enthusiasm.
He stopped short In )ils acknowl- , "Hut tell me—what have you been
edgnients of the others' greetings. And idoing?" Ethel asked.
turning abruptly to Ethel, as If he had ^ j "since I spoiled your slippers?" Cap-
eyes for her alone, he exclaimed: i | tain Redmond laughed. He seemed
she realized that what he asked could
never be.
"Oh, Ethel! I love you—I love you!"
"And I never even dreamed It!" The
irony of it all swept over her like some
engulfing Hood.
"You care for me, too, don't you?
Oh, say you do!" he begged.
| She rose, as if she would shake off
the cruel chains that kept her away
i from him.
S "I've always cared," she told him
brokenly.
i jus heart leaped at that. And step-
ping .behind her quickly, he laid bin
bands gently upon her two arms.
| "My love, my love—what a great
world it is when you're happy!" lie ex-
claimed. "Just think! I'll get the li
cense In the morning; we'll be married
"Sure, not as much as I am to see
you!" And he fairly beamed his de
light at seeing her once more.
When did you get back, old man?"
Guy asked, when they had Introduced
Larry and Charlie Brown.
Only this morning," Captain Red-}
mond answered, "but I thought I'd
have to come here directly to pay my |
respects to an old friend—and 1 meet
tluee old friends."
Georgy Wagstaff pouted at that. She
was extremely fond of the dashing of-
QUALITY
SERVICE
(EX PRICE
SURGEONS LABOR ENDLESSLY
Captain, Priest, Private and German
Lad, All Dying, Get Tender Care
From Overworked Hospital
and Ambulance Aids.
turns to the wounded man, gently feels j
his nose, lifts up ills closed eyelid, until
at his nod the stretcher is again lifted j
and the wounded man is carried into j
the operating room, and soon after Into
the little room of sorrows.
"In answer to my eager question, the i
surgeon shakes his head.
" 'Not a chance.'
"A brancardler nnd I gather the sol- 1
dier's belongings from his clothes to
be sent to his wife, but even we have
to stop for a few minutes after we
see the photograph of his wife and
their two little children.
"An hour later, as our night's work
is slacking up nntl several cars have
driven up and been unloaded, the In-
firmler comes In from the little room
and says something to the branear-
iliers. Two of them get a stretcher,
and In a moment the 'blesse from
Belleville" conies past us with a sheet
over him. They lay him down at the
other end of the room and another
brancardler begins rolling and tying
him in burlap for burial. As I look
he changes to n shapeless log. Then,
never to remain long in a serious mood.
i"0h, my dear, I've been a long way
from Tlpperary—the States, India, Rer-
un, Paris, South America. And ah!
my dear, how lonely I've been!"
! "You lonely!" She could not believe
that the mercurial irishman could ever
long be that.
"I've been In crowded places and In
entply ones, but always I was alone,"
he said with just a hint of sadness. In
spite of the gayety that his friends
Joved in him, there were many times
when Captain Redmond had to tight
hard to dispel the Celtic melancholy
that was bis natural heritage. "But
there, there—toll nie about yourself,"
he begged.
But Ethel was not ready to do that.
She shrank from discussing herself
with him.
"So you've become a great globr
trotter—you who'd never been out of
England!" she said, hastily.
"Ah! That was different. I was poor
then," he reminded her.
"Oh—and now?"
"I'm the idle rich," he informed her
humorously. "An uncle in India fell
off Ills horse, hunting—not very roman-
I tic, was It? And they cabled me I
was the sole heir to his vast estates."
"I didn't know you had an uncle In
India," Ethel commented with some
surprise.
"No more did I! But—God bless
him!" the captain said with mock rev-
erence.
"And why—why have you come
back?" she inquired slowly.
"For the same reason that I went
away," he said promptly.
"What wus that?"
"A woman!"
His soft reply, his serious eyes,
thrilled her. But at the same time she
know that she must no longer let him
remain In a lover's mood—sli© who
would have given anything to hear
that one short month ago.
"You, Larry!" She forced a gay
laugh "How exciting! Tell me. who
was she?"
"The woman I loved," was his quiet
reply.
She could not mistake his meaning.
"I never thought you were in love
with anybody," she rejoined.
"But 1 was and she was a darlln'—
the loveliest thing in the whole world,
watched over by some guardian angel
THREE impor-
tant things to
consider before
placing your orders
for printing. If the
shop which is doing
your printing is giv-
ing satisfaction a-
long these lines stay
with it; if it isn't,-
you are not getting
what is coining to
you. Break away
from it and buy
Printing where you
get value received
for every nickel of
your money.
Phone 112
C/>e
PRAGUE
RECORD
He looked at he- in amazement.
"Secretly? But tvliy—why?"
"I can't explain, even to you, Larry
—except that it's far my happiness to
keep it secret, now."
Bitter realization came to him then.
But he would not press her f-Jrther.
"And you're happy?" Ilis eyes sought
hers sadly.
She could not k< ep back the whole
truth from him, no matter how much
she wished to. Larry Redmond's hon-
esty was too patent to make dissem-
bling an easy matter in his presence.
"Oh, yes, Larry! I was happy—un-
til you came back just now," she said.
"Then why did you marry him?" he
demanded. There was no anger in his
voice—only regret and wonder.
"Because when you left I was—des-
perate," she admitted.
"You!" he exclaimed, more than ever
at a loss to understand her.
"Yes!" Ethel said. "I waited—waft-
ed for you until a month ago. I'd
never hoard from you—never heard of
you. I thought you were dead. If
you'd been alive, I felt that my love,
my wanting you so very much would
bring you back to me."
"Dear God!" There was no mock
reverence in that soul-wrung wail,
straight from his Celtic heart.
"And all my money had gone. Oh!
It doesn't matter now! And I came
here as governess to Sir George's
daughter. He's been very helpful.
. . . And this man—my husband—
came along. He seemed very fond of
me—" she smiled wanly—"quite des-
perately in love. I was wretched, nils-
The work of the Red Cross surgeons
and stretcher bearers at the front in
France was never more vividly illus-
trated than in a recent letter forward-
ed to America. It was written by out to the dead wagou with it
Philip O. Mills to ?Ir. Eliot Norton,
head of the Volunteer Motor Ambu-
lance corps which Mr. Mills was . serv-
ing. The communication was private,
but was made public because of the
clearness with which it sets forth the
scenes amid which the surgeons and
ambulance workers labor, day after
day. The text follows:
Tonight I am sitting In a small un-
derground cellar of a public building,
acting as a sort of timekeeper for the
cars (ambulances) going up to our
"Beware of the Military, Ethel—"
fleer and she dearly loved to banter
with him.
I'm not so terribly old," she object-
ed—"or do you think I've aged much?"
'In a year, sure, you've growu
younger. You're only a slip of a girl
now; and you were getting to be quite
a young woman when I left," he told
her.
"It's a whole year since you went
away." Ethel Willoughby half wills- brought her the best In life."
pered to Redmond as he came nearer „Aml yet Bhe retuse(i you?" Ethel
her- . ' said with a smile. She wished that
"And It seems a hundred!" he de Lnrrv Redmond had not stayed to talk
Iclared. Charlie Brown, catching his j,er. But the man fascinated her.
Ireply to her, knew of a certainty that np alwilys t,ad. And though she knew
'he was Irish. But underneath the cap- ghe jia(j nQ r(K[lt t0 |iaten to such
jtaln's fulsome remarks there often lay thln(,s ns hp wa8 telling her, some lr-
a sincerity that was more deeply root rcslstlbie force 8eemed to hold her
ed thau a casual bystander might sup helpU,S8 untll he should have told her
|pose. that ho loved her.
Mr. Brown felt that he must really she hn(lu.t the
jtear himself away from that interest- j
ling party.
"Good-by, Miss Willoughby!" ho
said. "Good-by, captain! I hate to
|bust up a reunion like this, but I've
got to get back uud write a piece for
the paper."
Still Mrs. Falconer would not let her
Despite the error in Sol White's
advertisement in last week's issue of
the Record, which placed his place of
business at Paden instead of Prague,
he did a big business. The caust of
the error was on account of him or-
dering a bunch of circulars printed
from the same advertisement £or his
son-in-law, Henry Aberson, who runs
a store at Paden, and in changing
back to Sol's name, the word Paden
was overlooked by the printer in
making the change.
chance to re-
fuse me," he was saying, "for I never
told her—because how could I? I was
Just a captain in the army; how could
I hope to take care of her the way a
man should take care of the woman he
loves?"
Ethel's heart was heavy with the
thought of what might have been.
"How selfish you meu are! Perhaps
I'll'ke you. "Infancy' It's"because ' 8'10 r"ed, too'" she suggested.
nise me. Why don't you dine | Captain "edmond shook his head de-
Perhaps If I ask Captain spondently.
1 "No, 1 think not," he replied,
don't think she even guessed how 1
felt. I don't think she guesses now
You see. she was rich, she was beautl
fill. There were always a dozeu men
dancing attendance on her—bully
chaps, some of them! And one day
when they told me she was engaged
to the bulliest of them all, I went
away."
"Without saying good-by?" E\en he
here, too?"! caught tlw.suijpleloi* of reproach In her
son's friend escape quite yet.
"Mr. Brown," she said, "for some
reason
you amuse me. Why don't you
[with us?
Illedmond, Ethel will come."
"Let's dine early," Guy said. "Don't
(bother to dress. We'll go to the Savoy
grill and meanwhile I'll get tickets for
*he Palace. There's an awfully clever
iAmerican girl there now."
"We'll pick you up here, Ethel," his
{mother added—"say in half an hour.
I We might be able to motor to .'tlch-
mond for dinner and still see the
ehow."
The Cold, Julepped
Nectar of Fruilland
There i« nothing that
nniwrri the call of thirst
ns well as Orange JooJ.
For real refreshment
hot day, there is noth-
ing as satisfy!
go drink
ith
An all Or
sweetened
sugar
II tit ink atandM
Less by the case
If you like Orange
you'll like Orange JooJ '
Thais
L'ltsOouJy-IW^
floon after, I go into the little ward
again to see how the others are com-
ing through the night, and am glad to
see them all quieted down. Even tlie
little German seems in less pain,
though his breathing still shakes the
heavy bed he lies on.
"Through a chink I see that day is
' beginning to break, and I hear the
' chief's car coming in from the sap, and
know that the night's work is over."
This is not a sketch from the Imagi-
nation of a novelist—It is the actual
iL
Red Cross surgeons and orderlies give first aid to wounded in little
underground dressing stations in the front-line trenches. War records
show that as many Red Cross men are killed by enemy fire as regular
soldiers in the trenches. -Red Cross field service is not a pastime.
occurrences of a night behind the
front where the French, the Belgians,
the British—nnd soon the Americans-
hold at bay the German invader. This
Is the nightly work of the men who
cftre for the wounded.
27 U. S. AMBULANCE
CORPS READY TO GO
Twenty-seven ambulance companies
have been orgnnlzed by the American
Prague Bottling Works.
"Larry—I Am Married/'
erable, lonely, and oh! so tired! I
wanted someone to take care of me.
And so, I married."
"And it's all my fault!" That was
like Larry Redmond—to condemn lilnl-
self instead of her.
She could not bear to hear him up-
braid himself.
"Please, aren't we suffering enough
now?" she protested.
He made up his mind, then, that for
her sake he must put things In a differ-
ent light. And goading himself to his
duty, he sat down and looked at her
wearily.
"But you've got to realize," he be-
gan. "you've got to realize that it's
best you shouldn't have married a
coward—and I was tnat. Two months
ago I nearly finished It all."
"Larry!" Ethel exclaimed In sudden
fear. The mere mentiou of such a
thing shocked her inexpressibly.
"Ab, yes! I meant to!" he continued
ruthlessly. "And it was another man
—almost a stranger—who stopped me."
"When was it?" Anxious as she
was, she could not forbear asking him
that. It seemed inconceivable that the
g y Larry she used to know should
ever have been near self-destruction.
"Two months ago—" he said. And
he stopped abruptly then, as if his
thoughts had momentarily taken him
far away. "Two months ago, in Ber-
lin," he resumed, pulling himself to-
gether by a visible effort. "It was one
of those gorgeous, moonlight nights. I
was thinking of you, my dear, and
thinking how futile It all was. What
was the use? ... It wTas in one
of those little side streets off Unter den
Linden. I stood there behind a tree
when suddenly this fellow came up
from liehlud and grabbed n^y re-
his recital brought back
most dangerous post, nnd handling the
reserve ears for wounded in the town
itself. The whole world is passing
j,ere—French, Americans; living,
wounded and dying.
"A long, heavily arched corridor,
with stone steps leading down to It;
two compartments off to one side, lined
with wine bins, where our reserve men
nnd a few French brnncardlers
(stretcher bearers) are lying on their
trained stretchers, some snoring; be-
\ond a door that leads to a little sick
ward—the most pathetic little room I
have ever seen—with four beds of dif-
ferent sizes and kinds on one side, and 'Red Cross in this country for service
six on the other, taken, evidently, in Europe. Some of them have already
from the ruined houses near by; and gone abroad. The list is:
pne tired inflrmier'diospital attendant) i No. 1—Pasadena, Cal., Dr. Charles
to tend and soothe the wounded and D. Lockwood; No. 2—University of
flying. j California, Berkeley, Dr. Alvin Powell;
"In the bed nearest the door a No. I?—University of Chicago, Dr. Eh
French priest, shot through the lungs, bert Clark; No. 4—Cleveland, Dr.
with pneumonia setting in, his blaoj^ Ralph I\. Updegraff; No. 3—Washing-
beard pointing straight up, whispering ton, D. C., Dr. Ryan Devertux; No. 8
for water. j —Fordham university, Dr. Joseph Don-
"Next to him a little German lad,1 nelly; No. 7—New York university, Dr.
hardly nineteen, and small, with about Chester F. S. Whitney; No. 8 Detroit,
six hours to live, calling—sometimes Dr. Charles Barton; No. 9—Northwest-
screaming—for his mother, and then em university, Chicago, Dr. Stephen
for water. j Balderston; No. 10—Columbia unlver-
"Next to him a French captain of sit.v, Dr. William H. Rockwell; No. 11
Infantry, his arm oft at the shoulder —Battle Creek, Mich., Dr. James T.
nnd his head wounded—weak, dying, I Case; No. 12—University of Washing-
but smiling. | ton, Seattle, Dr. David C. Hall; No. 13
"And next to him a tirailleur (infan- t —Pittsfield, Mass., Dr. Robert J. Car-
penter; No. 14—University of Oregon,
Eugene, Ore., Dr. J. E. Kuykendall;
No.. 15—Grand Rapids, Mich., Dr.
ThomasO. Gordon; No. 16—Fredonia,
Kan., Dr. Edgar C. Duncan; No. 17—
ylng, and I tell him he is calling Boston, Dr. Edward A. Cunningham;
tryman) In delirium calling on his
colonel to charge the Germans,
"The Infirmler Is going from one to
the other, soothing and waiting on each
In turn. He asks mo what the German
Is Stl
for his mother.
'Ah, this Is a sad war!' he says, as
volver."
All at ones
No. 18—Indianapolis, Dr. Mason B.
Light; No. 19—Portland, Ore., Dr. Er-
he goes over to hold the poor lad's 1 nest H. Streit; No. 20—Atlanta, Dr.
' Leo P. Daly; No. 21—Flint, Mich., Dr.
Walter H. Winchester; No. 22—Char-
leston, W. Va„ Dr. Timothy L. Barber;
No. 23—Portland, Me., Dr. Ernest B.
Folsom; No. 24—Kansas City, Mo.,
commander not yet named; No. 25—
Rutland, Vt., Dr. William Stickney;
No. 28—Columbia, S. C., Dr. Marlon H.
Wyman; No. 27—Salt Lake City, Dr.
Hugh B. Sprague.
Several of these units are already
on the way to the front In France, and
the prospect Is that all will see early
service. Not only Is the Red Cross
preparing to care for American sol-
diers and sailors when they move Into
hnnd.
"A brancardler comes In with a mes-
sage; A blesse (a wounded man) at
Belleville—very serious.
"This Is a reserve car call, so one
slides out and Is gone like a gray ghost
down the ruined street, making all the
ftpeed its driver can—no easy matter—
with no lights. In twenty minutes he
Is back. The brancardiers go out.
They come In again bearing the wound-
ed man on a stretcher and place It on
the floor. One of them, who Is a priest,
leans over him and asks his name, and
his town. On answer to the question
what his wife's name is, he whispers
(Continued In Next Isiua.)
'Alice,' while on the other side an- j the flrlnK llne? but France needs help
. j.__ i„ .. badly with her hospitals, and America
Is giving It as rapidly as possible.
The German policy of sinking hos-
pital ships with their thousands of
helpless wounded Is mnking It neces-
sary to enre for the British wounded
In France, and it puts a terrific strain
on the French hospital service.
other brancardler Is slitting the
clothes from his body—and I shiver
with the pity of It at the sight I see.
"The surgeon comes out of his little
operating room. Weary with the
night's tragic work—after so many,
many other tragic nights—he douses
j his head In a bucket of water. He