The Edmond Sun (Edmond, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 18, No. 20, Ed. 1 Wednesday, November 28, 1906 Page: 3 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Oklahoma Digital Newspaper Program and was provided to The Gateway to Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
LSERIAI
.STORY/
DUKE OF
DEVIL=
MAY-CARE
By HARRIS DICKSON
Author of
"The Black Wolf's Breed," Etc.
(Copyright, 1906, by D. Appleton & Co.)
CHAPTER VII.—Continued.
After some little time, Joe reascend-
ed the stair alone. He let the cellar
door drop into place. For a moment
or two he stood there undecided, as if
Jie had half a mind to open it again.
Then he shook his head and went
away.
About half-past two in the after-
noon Joe's returning steps rang sharp-
ly on the flags. Before he reached his
front door, Jim, the ne&ro man, had
opened it.
"He's gone, Mister Joe, I jes couldn't
keep him no longer."
"Gone?"
"Yassir, went away about 12
o'clock; here's de uote what he left."
Job tore it open and read, scribbled
in pencil:
Dear Joe: It's no use, I can't hide.
Please inquire If that poor devil left a
family, and do all you can for them.
There's some money in the Planter's bank
that I sha'n't need. Use that.
Don't bother about me. N.
P. S.—I have taken your pistol.
But Joe did bother. Even the negro
■could see that he was very much dis-
turbed. He stopped for no dinner, but
turned away and left the house im-
mediately.
"He's just in the humor to hurt
somebody, or get hurt himself. I've
got to And him."
the station to the street. At the edge
of the banquette he heard Mrs. Ash-
ton give the cabman her address,
"Hotel Louis le Grande, 2157 Valois
street." While they waited for their
luggage he sprang Into another cab
and ordered the driver to the "corner
of Valois and Esplanade."
It was the Thursday night before
Mardi Gras. A moist and sticky fog
hung over the low-pitched roofs and
red-tiled gables of the quaint old Cre-
ole town. Canal street blazed with
lights. Revelers crowded along Its
banquettes and paraded the streets—
grotesque, kaleidoscopic, happy. The
neutral ground seethed and heaved, a
bedlam of masques, flambeaux, tin
horns and good humor. Beyond all
this lay the domain ot darkness, of
narrow streets and quietude.
Duke's cab worked its way slowly
through the dense mass, and had al-
most crossed Canal when It came to
a congested halt at the corner of
Valois.
"Hurry, driver, hurry," he called;
"what are you waiting for?" He
looked out upon a smiling sea, the
gleaming teeth of Creole girls, people
pushing to and fro, surging human
billows tipped with laughter. The
crowd jeered and laughed—everybody
Is good-natured in New Orleans, but
they cannot understand why one
should want to hurry. Presently they
parted and let him pass.
The wheels rattled and clattered
down a narrow street, getting farther
and farther from the lights, the music
and the jollity behind him. Duke
recognized the wide Esplanade as he
crossed It, the neutral ground, the
whitewashed trees, the houses—noth
ing ever changes on Esplanade.
The cab stopped ■again. "Is this
your place, sir?" the driver asked.
"Yes, this will <Ju." He stepped out
and paid the man.
When the cab had gone he pursued
his way on foot, looking about him
until he located \ lie dingy entrance to
the Hotel Louis io Grande. "I thought
I'd remember the place," he said, and
crossed to the other side.
Opposite it was a little restaurant,
either side, fine-pointed, glistening
with wax, and black as the unstinted
use of dye could make it.
Old Hippolyte, the porter, even more
antique than the hotel, hobbled out
behind his master and began lifting
down their luggage. Arthemlse, in
starched cap and apron, fluttered
through the entry to take the ladles'
wraps.
Anita alighted from the cab, then
Alice. Both girls glanced doubtfully
through those medieval-looking doors
of Iron, curiously wrought. Back, far
back behind it all, there burned a dim
light In the rear.
Alice felt that she was surely In
New Orleans, really In New Orleans—
no other place could be just like It.
"Oh, Anita, Anita," she whispered,
"we are really and truly In New Or-
leans—can't you feel it?"
Those green-painted shutters looked
like New Orleans; the slippery ban-
quette telt like New Orleans; Mon-
sieur Victor with his shrugs and bows;
Hippolyte, with his bent back and stiff
leg; Arthemise, full of quaint little
smiles and smirks—all seemed part
and parcel of the foreign life.
A crowd of masKers passed them,
marching four abreast; they blew tin
horns in the strangers' faces and
laughed. Red fire gleamed along a
distant street; a rocket shot up from
Esplanade—the Spirit of the Carnival
seized upon the girls.
"Come, Aunt Alice," Anita called
and laughed. She had been a foo.
long enough; now Bhe meant to have
a jolly good time. "Come on—hur-
ry."
Duke, watching her from across the
street, felt a blind unreasoning
sentment gather in his heart.
Mrs. Ashton stepped cautiously out
of the cab, feeling her way. Her foot
slipped; she splashed into the gutter.
Monsieur Victor went distracted with
grief.
"Ah, macrame, madame, ze water—
too bad, too bad; I have him remove."
And with profuse lamentations he as-
sisted the ladles through the entry.
Duke watched them disappear, Hip-
ON THE LUNCHEON TABLE.
Ideas for Decorating and Serving Sim-
ple Meal.
For a simple luncheon there Is noth- j
lng prettier than scarlet blossoms, ar-
ranged in a glass bowl, with sprays of j
fern to form a contrast to the bril- j
liant red.
Colonial glass is again In fashion
and is much cheaper than cut. the de- j
sign being simple it Is more appro-
priate for an informal occasion.
The conventional courses may be
dispensed with and stufTed peppers
can take the place of raw oysters or
grape fruit.
Plates, painted in cherries or fruit,
harmonize well.
A fruit salad can be sent to the
table In crimson apples, with the
stems tied with ribbons to match.
Place cards can readily be made at
home by cutting out small pictures of
apples and pasting them on the cor-
ner of each.
Mushrooms, Instead of being served
in china cups, may be put in those j
made of paper in the shape of crim- ,
son roses.
Stone House on a Mountain
BUILT YEARS AGO AS LOOKOUT
FOR HOSTILE INDIANS.
"Ah!" sighed the poetr "she comes
and goe3, uncertain, evanescent; now
appearing, now vanishing; now charm-
ing us with h^r wiles and ways, and
<astlng over our hearts the spell of
her presence, luring us and leading us
on to believe that she Is ours forever;
again hastening from us just when our
clasp grows warm, just when we have
come to know the dulcet sweetness of
her voice; as fickle as a shadow, as—"
"What in the world Is he talking
about?" asked the large lady with the
purplo beads, in the rear seat.
"A cook, I think." offered the other
large lady with the turquoise rings
and the now lorgnette.—Judge.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE HOTEL LOUIS LE GRANDE.
All of that Thursday afternoon the
Daylight Special, overcrowded and
belated, hurried on toward New Or-
leans. Every south-bound train bore
its thawing burden—refugees in furs
and sealskins who fled from snow and
uleet to a land of palm and pines be-
side the gulf of Mexico.
The dusk came gently on, and pas-
sengers began opening their windows
to the flower-scented winds. Already
they looked wistfully ahead to the
shores of summer seas upon whose
heaving bosoms the purple Islands
sleep.
Mrs. Ashton was negatively con-
tent, smacking her lips in that com-
placent way she had when things went
to suit her. Alice perched on a fidgety
pinnacle of delight. She was going
to Mardi Gras, and that ought to make
any girl supremely happy. Like a ten-
nls-ball she bounded back and forth
between her mother and Anita, almost
as if the cushions were too springy
for her to sit upon.
But Anita gazed so dreamily Into
the twilight, without seeming to hear
or heed, that she was no fun at all.
Alice couldn't comprehend such
girl. She buzzed around until she was
tired, then settled down beside her
mother, as restless as a bumble-bee
In a bucket of tar.
Anita did not want to talk; she
wanted to think. And the farther the
train carried her, the more persist-
ently her thoughts clung to Vlcks-
burg. The chain lengthened, but It
did not break. What a goose she had
been to write such a note! How com-
pletely It had been ignored! It must
have been the music, the lights, the
exhilaration of dancing that made her
do It. Then she remembered the jon-
quil; Anita loathed herself when she
thought of that. Very possibly he had
flung it down in the street and
laughed.
She wondered if Nannie Kerr hadn't
some lurking suspicion that she had
expected to meet Noel at her house.
Girls are so very sharp. Gossips in
Vicksburg were busy coupling their
names, talking about how Mrs. Ash-
ton hated Duke, how he and Anita met
at the houses of their friends, how—
a thousand stinging little "hows" and
"whys" and whispers that maddened
her. Anita's face flushed rwhat a fool,
what a fool she had been!
Nannie would laugh, Ellen would
iaugh, every old long-tongued thing
In town would laugh. But Joe Balfour
would not laugh—dear old Joe. He
would be sorry for her, and Anita
would hate that moBt of all.
Even when the lights of New Or-
leans glimmered across the level hori-
zon, and Alice pointed to them excit-
edly, they roused no interest in Anita.
She didn't want to go to New Orleans;
she didn't want to go anywhere; she
wanted to go back home, to Virginia,
where she could be alone.
Before the puffing locomotive came
to a full 8top at the station, a man
stepped off the front platform of the
smokei. Duke had sat on the front
seat all the way from Jackson, his hat
pulled down over his eyes, speaking to
nybody. He glanced anxiously about
the platform. A blue uniform stalked
by aid start'ed him. It was only the
conductor of a sleeping car. He
shrank buck out of the light, stopped
in the shadow of a post and watched
the passengers crowding past him.
An'ta came so close he might easily
have touched her.
He followed her cautiously through
Washington's Death Rate.
It Is 1 convincing reply that th«
district commissioners made to the
charge that Washington is the most
unhealthy city in the country. The
death rate of Washington is shown
to be lower than that of Augusta, Me.;
Atlanta, Ga.; Annapolis, Md.; Lynch-
burg, Va.; Key West, Fla.; Jackson-
ville, Fla.; Mobtlfe, Ala.; Savannah,
Ga.; Saratoga, N. Y.; San Antonio,
Tex.; San Francisco, Cal.; Wilming-
ton, N. C.; Troy, N. Y.; Richmond,
Va., and San Diego, Cal. The death
rate of Washington Is essentially the
same as that of Memphis, the city in
which the charge against Washington
was given publication.
The death rate In Washington Is
somewitat higher than In a number of
large cities because of the high death
rate among the colored population.
There are more colored people in
Washington than In any other city In
the United States—more than In New
Orleans, the metropolis of the black
oelt.
Situated on a Peak of the Wichita
Range Near Lawton, Okla.—
Place Now in Ruins and Vis-
ited Only by Tourists.
Lawton, Okla.—To the northwest of
this city, softened In outline by the
haze of 20 miles, lies the Wichita
mountains. From the foothills of the
Rockies in Northern New Mexico to
the Ozarks in Arkansas, they are the
only break in the monotony of the
level plain. They took their name
from a tribe of Indians that once
lived at the base, hunted in the cedar
thickets that cluster on the sides like
huge spiders, and fished in the clear
streams that rush over limestone and
gravely beds.
From Fort Sill five miles north of
Lawton the two highest peaks of the
range, Signal mountain and Mount
Scott stand in bold relief from the
rest of the range. Mount Scott is
rugged and covered with scrubby oaks
and cedars. The mountain was given
its name by a regiment of soldiers
who were returning through the coun-
try after serving with Gen. Scott in
the Mexican war. lloth mountains are
nearly of the same height. Signal
mountain is smooth and covered with
a growth of buffalo grnss that greens
with the spring rains and late In the
season becomes a dull brown. It could
not bo distinguished from the other
brown foothills if it wore not for a
speck that stands on its very highest
| point. Without a glass no shape or
outline to th.j speck can be marked,
but the field glass ot an officer brings
it close through the clear atmosphere
of the southwest, and shows it to be
an old stone house.
It was that old stone house that
gave the name of Signal mountain to
It. When Fort Sill was first occu-
pied the country was filled with hos-
tile Kiowas and Comanches. It did
not take the troops long to discover
that before any outbreak or raid down
the valley there was always a signal
fire on the top of the bare brown
mountain to tho west of the fort.
The Indians had scooped a hole on
the top and when they wero on the
war path the chief with the keenest
vision sat on watch scanning the
surrounding plain for some luckless
wagon train that he could signal his
followers to swoop down upon. The
lookous from the mountain could also
get an unhindered view of the fort
and could send out warning when a
troop of soldiers was sent out on a
raid.
The government decldcd to build a
stone house on the mountain for the
use of a sentinel. It Is the remains
of that house this Is the Bpeck on
the summit to-day. A storm a few
years ago took off the roof and crum-
bled tho sides. Enough of it is still
standing to show the loopholes for the
rifles. The mountain is so stj'.p that
the loopaoles oi the rii:es run nearly
00k
- '•• ^ £♦
The Old Stone House Upon Signal
Mountain.
at an angle of 45 degrees, so the fire
would catch the Indians as they
crawled up the slopes. The angle is
different in the holes on every side
of the ouilding, because the slope of
the mountain is not thj came.
Wiieu the old house was In use sig-
nals were made to the fort by fires
at night, and a sort oi wig wagging In
daylight. Now tho old house is in
ruins and is never vitlted only by
tourists from the east. In the foot-
hills around Mount Sco.u Geronimo
and his Apache braves are kept the
prisoners of Uncle Sam. signal moun-
tain and its history i.nown only to
the old timers who sit at the fort
and tell of the days when the Kiowas
and Comanches were not the quiet,
peaceful people that attend the In-
dian school cr live on thair allot-
mer's.
Some men are prompted to look for
work merely ont of idle curiosity.
All There.
Swell—Did you meet anybody you
knew while you were In Europe?
Front—Yes, confound it; 'most
everybody I owed!—Detroit Free
Press.
Economy.
Husband—Isn't fifty dollars rather
expensive for a parasol?
Wife—Yes; but It will last longer
than a umbrella because you can't
borrow it—Puck.
Different.
"George told me today ho loved m«
more than his very life."
"Nonsense. All the young men say
that."
"That may be true. But they all
don't say it to me."—Milwaukee Sen-
tinel.
Geography.
Teacher—Tommy, how far «*yth da
Icebergs float?
Tommy—Till they mel'
■ ru ■ i a
inllMUll)
iSAVE MONEY!
: BY BUYING YOUR SUPPLIES OF US :
He Might Easily Have Touched Her.
and Duke hid himself, polyte and Arthemise
Pedro's Place.
in the recess of a doorway.
A hundred years ago when Napoleon
reared his dazzling despotism, this
Hotel Louis le Grande had been the
center of fashion for a loyal colony.
Even before that, those two flickering
lamps in front bad shone down upon
many a brilliant gathering of the Mar-
quis de Vaudreuil. But the colony
had been bartered away like a bauble,
and the empire fell, shattered Into
star-dust. The hotel's glamour passed.
It degenerated into a mere pension
where an occasional stranger came
out of curiosity to view the rooms
wherein had slept so many noble and
ill-starred guests.
Mardi Gras brought a high tide of
prosperity to the old hotel. During
that one maddening week Monsieur
Victor Labouisse reaped his annual
harvest.
Suddenly a man stepped out of
Pedro's Place; Duke shrank deeper
into the shadow and let him pass.
It could not have been very long
until a second cab, loaded with lug-
gage and traveling more slowly, rum-
bled down the street and drew up in
front of the hotel. Monsieur Victor
rushed across the banquette like a
flitting bat, and opened the cab door
with a Frenchman's much-ado.
"Arthemise, Arthemise, Hip-leet,
Hip'leet," he shouted back, and his
voice echoed in the vaulted passage-
way as though it struggled through
the damp aisles of a catacomb.
Alice drew back, half-laughing, half-
frightened, as she came face to face
with this singular little caricature In
black and white. Monsieur Victor's
clothing waB very black, and his linen
immaculately white; his face was
pinched and thin and pale, but his
mustache—ah, the glossy glory of that
mustacba. It stuck out stiffly on
bringing
their luggage.
Monsieur Victor—which was all of
his name that Anita could pronounce
—led them through the dismal entry
to a time-worn staircase which
branched right and left at the top.
They came out upon a balcony which
curved and surrounded an oval court-
yard—all dim and mysterious.
"I'm so glad we came to this place,"
whispered Alice. "Doesn't it feel
creepy?" She clung close to Mrs.
Ashton, thrilling with a delicious
sense of adventure.
Monsieur Victor paused where the
opposite balconies come together
again, entered a wide hall and tri-
umphantly threw open the first door
to his right.
"Zis is madame's apartment;
young ladles have ze apartment two
doors farzer, across ze hall. I have
one grand regret, madame, zat I can-
not prepare ze apartments togezzer—
but it is now impossible. Zis was
once ze apartment of ze Comtesse
Vaudreuil; General Jackson he Bleep
here, and Lafltte—ah, ze terrible La-
fitte. But, madame, madame, you be-
stow upon my poor house one grand
honaire."
Mtb. Ashton listened Impatiently—
her foot was soaking wet.
"Yes, yes," she assented; "I daresay
it will do very well."
"Oul, oul, madame, an' ze tapestry,
anclenne—ze vairy same when ze Du«
d'Orleans sleep In zis room—Ab, I
see, madame is discomfort—Arthe-
mise, Arthemise," he clapped his
hands, and called.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
1 Star Tobacco,
U Horseshoe Tobacco,
a Granger Twist Tobacco,
1 Pickled Spare Ribs,
I High Patent Flour, 48 lb sack,
% 25c Guarantee Coffee,
40c per pound
40c per pound
40c per pound
5c per pound
85c per sack
14c
This Coupon and $1.00, good for 25 pounds of
best Granulated Sugar. Only one Coupon to
each customer.
We carry a full stock of Dry Goods, Groceries, Shoes,
Furnishings, Hardware, Tinware, Wooden ware, Etc.
WHICH WE SELL AT
CUT PRICE
Remember we carry the largest stock of Farmers' Sup-
plies of any store in the New State.
.
« £
We are Receiving
New Goods Evf y Day
"Young Scadsby has a very prom-
ising career."
"Yes, indeed. He's always promis-
ing, but he never pays."—Detroit Free
Press.
THE LION STORE ANNEX
imupnmn
ytyu'
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Dailey, A. D. The Edmond Sun (Edmond, Okla. Terr.), Vol. 18, No. 20, Ed. 1 Wednesday, November 28, 1906, newspaper, November 28, 1906; Edmond, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc150075/m1/3/: accessed May 1, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.