The Konawa Chief-Leader and Konawa Times. (Konawa, Okla.), Vol. 4, No. 35, Ed. 1 Friday, August 13, 1909 Page: 3 of 8
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CserTAL^
\J1 STORY Pj
PICTURES BY A. WEIL
By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
(Copjriffht lMT.Tb* Bobbs-Msrrlll Co.)
SYNOPSIS.
"Mad" Dan Maltland, on reaching hl«
New York bachelor club, met an attrac-
tive young woman at the door. Janitor
O'Hagan assured him no one had been
within that day. Dan discovered a wom-
an's finger prints In dust on his desk,
along with a letter from his attorney.
Maltland dined with Bannerman, his at-
torney. Dan set out for Greenfields, to
Uet his family Jewels. During his walk
to the country seat, he met the young
woman in gray, whom he had seen liv-
ing his bachelors' club. Her auto had
broken down. He fixed it. By a ruse she
"lost" him. Maltland, on reaching home,
surprised lady In gray, cracking the safe
containing his gems. She, apparently,
took him for a well-known crook, Daniel
Anlsty. Half-hypnotired, Maltland opened
his safe, took therefrom the Jewels, and
gave them to her, first forming a part-
nership In crime. The real Dan Anlsty,
•ought by police of the world, appeared
on the same mission. Maltland overcame
him. He met the girl outside the house
and they sped on to New York in her au-
to. He had the Jewels and she promised
to meet him that day. Maltland received
a "Mr. Snalth," Introducing himself as a
detective. To shield the girl in gray,
Maltland, about to Bhow him the Jew-
els, supposedly lost, was felled by a blow
from "Snalth's" cane. The latter proved
to be Anlsty himself and he secured the
gems. Anlsty, who was Maltland's dou-
ble, masqueraded as the latter. The
criminal kept Maltland's engagement with
the girl in gray. He gave her the gems,
after falling in love at first sight. They
were to meet and divide the loot. Malt-
land revived and regretted missing his
engagement. Anlsty, masquerading
Maltland, narrowly avoided capture
through mvsterlous tip. The girl in gray
visited Maltland's apartments during his
absence and returned gems, being dis-
covered on return. Maltland, without
cash, called up his home and heard a
woman's voice expostulating. Anlsty,
disguised as Maltland, told her his real
Identity and realising himself tricked
tried to wring from her the location of
the gems.
CHAPTER X.—Continued.
"By the powers. I forgot for a. mo-
ment! So you thought me Maltland
eh? Well, I'm sorry I didn't under-
stand that from the first. You're bo
quick, as a rule, you know—I confess
you duped me neatly this afternoon—
that I supposed you were wise and
only afraid that I'd give you what you
deserve. If they had sent any one but
that stupid ass, Hickey, to nab me, I
be in the cooler now. As it was, you
kindly selected the very best kind of
a house for my purpose; I went
straight up to the roofs and out
through a building round the corner.
But the shock of discovery, with its
attendant revulsion of feeling, had
been too much for her. She collapsed
suddenly in the chair, eyes half closed
face pallid as a mask of death.
Anisty regarded her in silence for
meditative instant, then, taking up
the lamp, strode down the hall to the
pantry, returning presently with
glass brimming with an amber-tinted
effervescent liquid.
"Champagne," he announced, licking
his lips. "Wish I had Maltland
means to gratify my palate. He knows
good wine. Here, my dear, gulp this
down," placing the glass to the girl
lips and raising her head that she
might swallow without strangling
As it was, she choked and gasped
but after a moment began to show
some signs of having benefited by the
draught, a faint color dawning in her
cheeks.
"That's some better," commended
the burglar, not unkindly. "Now, if
you please, we'll stop talking pretty
and get down to brass tacks. Buck up
now, and answer my questions. And
don't be afraid; I'm holding no great
grudge for what you did this after
noon. I appreciate pluck and grit
much as anybody, I guess, though I do
think you ran it pretty close, peach
tng on a pal after you'd lifted the
Jewels. By the way, why did you
do it?"
"Because— But you wouldn't under-
stand if I told you."
"I suppose not. I'm not much good
splitting sentimental hairs. But Malt-
land must have been pretty decent to
you to make you go so far. Speaking
of which, where are they?"
"They?"
"Don't Bidestep. We understand one
another. I know you've brought back
the jewels. Where have you stowed
them?"
The wine had fulfilled its mission,
endowed her with fresh strength and
renewed spirit. She was thinking
quickly, every wit alert.
"J won't tell you."
Won't eh? That's an admission
that they're here, you know. And you
may as well know I propose to have
em. Fair means or foul, take your
pick. Where are they?"
"I have told you I wouldn't tell."
"I've known pluckier women than
you to change their minds, under pres-
sure." He came nearer, bending over,
face close to her, eyes savage, and
gripped her wrists none too gently.
Tell me!"
"Let me go."
He proceeded calmly to imprison
both small wrists In one strong, bony
hand. "Better tell."
"Let me go!" she panted, struggling
to rise.
His voice took on an ugly tone
Tell!"
She was a "child in his hands, but
managed nevertheless to rise. As he
applied the pressure more cruelly to
her arms she cried aloud with pain
and, struggling desperately, knocked
the chair over.
It went down with a crash appalling
ly loud In that silent house and at
that hour; and taking advantage of his
instant of consternation she Jerked
free and sprang toward the door. He
was upon her in an instant, however,
hard fingers digging into her shoul-
ders. "You little fool!"
No!" she cried. "No, no, no! Let
me go, you—you brute!—
Abruptly he thought better of his
methods and released her, merely put-
ing himself between her and the door-
way.
"Don't be a little fool," he eoun
seled. "You kick up that row and
you'll have us both pinched inside of
the next five minutes."
Defiance was on her tongue's tip
but the truth in his words gave her
pause. Palpitating with the shock
every outraged instinct a-qulver, she
subdued herself and fell back, eying
him fixedly.
'They're here," he nodded thought
fully. "You wouldn't have stood for
that if they weren't. And since they
His Voice Took On an Ugly Tone.
are, I can find them without your as-
sistance. Sit down. I shan't touch
you again."
She had scant choice other than
to obey. Desperate as she was. her
strength had been severely overtaxed,
and she might not presume upon it
too greatly. Fascinated with terror,
she let herself down Into an easy
chair.
Anisty thought for a moment, then
went over to the desk and sat himself
before It.
"Keys," he commented, rapidly In-
ventorying what he saw. "How'd you
get hold of them?"
"They are Mr. Maltland's. He must
have forgotten them."
The burglar chuckled grimly. "Co-
incidences multiply. It is odd. That
harp, O'Hagan, was coming in with a
can of beer while I was picking the
lock, and caught me. He wanted to
know if I'd missed my train for Green-
fields, and I gave him my word of hon-
or I had. Moreover, I'd mislaid my
keys and had been ringing for him for
the past ten minutes. He swallowed
every word of it. By the way, here's
a glove of yours. You certainly man-
aged to leave enough clews about to
insure your being nabbed even by a
New York detective."
He faced about, tossing her the
glove, and with it so keen and pene-
trating a glance that her heart sank
for fear that he had guessed her se-
cret. But as he continued she
gained confidence.
"I could teach you a thing or two,"
he suggested, pleasantly. "You make
about as many mistakes as the aver
age beginner. And, on the other hand,
you've got the majority beaten to
finish for 'cuteness. You're as quick
as they make them."
She straightened up, uneasy, op-
pressed by a vague surmise as to
whither this tended.
"Thank you," she said, breathlessly,
"but hadn't you better—"
"Plenty of time, my dear. Maitland
has gone to Greenfields and we've sev-
eral hours before us. Look here, little
woman, why don't you take a tumble
to yourself, cut out ail this nonsense
and look to your own interests?"
'I don't understand yon," she fal-
tered, "but if—"
'I'm talking about this Maitland
affair. Cut it out and forget it. You're
too good-looking and valuable to your-
self to lose your head just all on ac-
count of a little moonlight flirtation
with a good-looking millionaire. You
don't suppose for an instant that
there's anything in it for yours, do
you? You're nothing to Maitland—
just an Incident; next time he meets,
the baby-stare for yours. You can
thank your lucky stars he happened to
have a reputation to Bustaln as a vil-
lage cut-up, a gay, sad dog, always out
for a good time and hang the expense!
Otherwise he'd have handed you yourS
without a moments hesitation. I'm
not doing thiB up in tin-foil and tying
a violet ribbon with tassels on it, but
I'm handing it straight to you; some-
thing you don't want to forget. You
just sink your hooks in the fact that
you're nothing to Maitland and that
he's nothing to you, and never will be
and you won't lose anything—except
illusions."
She remained quiescent for a little,
hands twitching In her lap, torn by
conflicting emotions—fear of and aver
slon for the man, amusement, chill
horror bred of the knowledge that he
was voicing the truth about her, the
truth, at least, as he saw it, and—and
as Maitland would see it.
Illusions?" she echoed, faintly, and
raised her eyes to his with a pitiful
attempt at a smile. "Oh, but I must
have lost them, long ago; else I
shouldn't be—"
Here and what you are. That's
what I'm telling you."
She shuddered imperceptibly; looked
down and up again, swiftly, her expres
slon Inscrutable, her voice a-tremble
between laughter and tears: "Well?1
"Eh?" The directness of her query
figuratively brought him up all stand
ing, canvas flapping and wind out of
his sails.
"What are you offering me in ex
change for my silly dream?" she in
quired, a trace of spirit quickening her
tone.
"A fair exchange, I think—some
thing that I wouldn't offer you if you
hadn't been able to dream." He
paused, doubtful, clumsy.
"Go on," she told him, faintly. Since
It must come, as well be over with it
"See here." He took heart of
desperation. "You took to Maltland
when you thought he was me. Why
not take to me for myself? I'm as
good a man, better as a man, than he
if I do blow my own horn. You side
with me, little woman, and—and all
that—and I'll treat you square. I
never went back on a pal yet. Why,"
brightening with enthusiasm as his
gaze appraised her, "with your looks
and your cleverness and my knowl-
edge of the business, we can sweep
the country, you and I."
"Oh!" she cried, breathlessly.
"We'll start right now," he plunged
on, misreading her; "right now, with
last night's haul. You'll chuck this
addled sentimental pangs-of-conscience
lay, hand over the Jewels, and—and
I'll hand 'em back to you the day we're
married, all set and—as handsome a
wedding present as any woman ever
got."
She twisted in her chair to hide her
face from him, fairly cornered at last,
brain a-whirl devising a hundred
maneuvers, each more helpless than
the last, to cheat and divert him for
the time, until—until—
The consciousness of his presence
near her, of the sheer strength and
might of will-power of the man, bore
upon her heavily; she was like a child
in his hands, helpless. She turned with
a hushed gasp to find that he had risen
and come close to her chair; his face
was not a foot from hers, his eyes
dangerous; In another moment he
would have his strong arms about
her. She shrank away, terrified.
"No, no!" she begged.
"Well, and why not? Well?"—
tenBely.
"How do I know? This afternoon I
outwitted you, robbed and sold you
for—for what you call a scruple. How
can I know that you are not paying me
back in my own coin?"
"Oh, but little woman!" he laughed,
tenderly, coming nearer. "It is be-
cause you did that, because you could
hold those scruples and make a fool
of me for their sake, that I want you.
Don't think I'm capable of playing
with you—it takes a woman to do that.
Don't you know,"—he bent nearer and
his breath was warm upon her cheek
—"don't you know that you're too rare
and fine and precious for a man to
risk losing? Come now!"
"Not yet." She started to her feet
and away. "Wait. There's a cab!"
The street without was echoing with
the clattering drum of galloping hoofs.
"At this hour!" she cried aghast.
"Could it be—"
"No fear. Besides—there, it's
stopped."
"In front of this house!"
"No, three doors up the street, at
least. That's something you must
learn, and I can teach you—to judge
distance by sound in the darkness—"
"But I tell you," she insisted, re-
treating before him, "it's a risk. There,
did you hear that?"
"That" was the dulled crash of the
1 front door.
Anlsty stepped to the table on the In-
stant and plunged the room In dark-
ness.
"Steady!" he told her evenly.
Steady. It can't be—but take no
chances. Go to the trunk closet and
get that window open. If it's Mait-
land,"—grimly—"well, I'll follow."
"What do you mean? What are you
going to do .'"
"Leave that to me. I've never been
caught yet."
Cold fear gripped her heart as. In a
flash of Intuition, she divined his in-
tention.
"Quick!" he bade her, savagely,
"Don't you want—£1 £
"I can't see," she invented. "Where's
the door? I can't see."
"Here."
Through the darkness his fingers
found hers. "Come," he said.
"Ah!"
Her hand closed over his wrist, and
In a thought she had flung herself be-
fore him and caught the other. In
the movement her hand brushed
against something that he was hold-
ing; and It was cold and smooth and
hard.
"Ah! no, no!" she implored. "Not
that, not that!"
OWES
HER
LIFE TO
h y—— * 'a/ |
Lydia E. Pinkham's
|Vegetable Compound
| Vienna, W. Va. — " I feel that Iowa
the last ten years of my life to Lydia
ivajwuji**.E. l'inkham's Vege-
v'iss?! table Compound.
Eleven years ago I
was a walking
shadow. I had been
under the doctor's
carebutgotnorelief.
My husband per-
suaded me to try
Lydia E. Pinkham's
Vegetable Com-
pound and it worked
like a charm. It re-
lieved all my pains
I and misery. I advise all suffering
With an oath he attempted to throw Women to take Lydia E. Pinkham's
her off, but, frail strength magnified i Vegetable Compound." — Mrs. Emma
by a fury of fear, she joined issue with \ Wiif.aton, Vienna, W. Va.
him, clinging to his wrists with the Lydia K. Pinkham's "V egetable Com-
tenaclty of a wildcat, though she was pound, made from native roots and
,i.. j . w . ,v,„ herbs, contains no narcotics or harm-
lifted from her feet and dashed this ,|ru_t an(j to-day holds the record
way and that, brutally, mercilessly, for largest number of actual cures
though her heart fell sick within her 0f female diseases of anv similar medi-
cine in the country, and thousands of
for the hopelessness of it, though—
voluntary testimonials are on nie in
CHAPTER XI. the Pinkham laboratory at Lvnn,
., ~ Mass., from women who have been
Dan —Quixote. cured from almost every form of
Leaving the hotel, Maltland strode female complaints, inflammation, ul-
quietly but rapidly across the car ] ceration,displacements, fibroid tumors,
tracks to the sidewalk bordering the irregularities, periodic pains, backache,
park. A dozen nlghthawk cabbteB bore Indigestion and nervous prostration,
down upon him, yelping In chorus. He Kvery such suffering woman owes it to
herself to give Lydia E. Pinkham s
Vegetable Compound a trial.
If you would like special advice
about your case write a confiden-
tial letter to Mrs. Pinkliam, at
Lynn, Mass. Her advice is free,
and always helpful.
LUCKY MAN.
motioned to the foremost. Jumped into
the hansom and gave the fellow his
address.
"Five dollars," he added, "if you
make it in five minutes."
An astonished horse, roused from a
droop-eared lethargy, was yanked al-
most by main strength out of the cab-
rank and into the middle of the ave-
nue. Before he could recover, the
long whip-lash had leaped out over
the roof of the vehicle, and he found
himself stretching away up the avenue
on a dead run.
Yet to Maltland the pace seemed
deadly slow. He fidgeted on the seat
in an agony of impatience, a dozen
times feeling in waistcoat pocket for
his latch keys. They were there, and
his fingers itched to use them.
By the lights streaking pagt he
knew that their pace was furious, and
was haunted by a fear lest It should
bring the police about his ears. At
Twenty-ninth street, indeed, a dream- She—Two men whom I refused to
ing policeman, startled by the uproar, ! marry, sir, have become millionaires!
emerged hastily from the sheltering He—Is that the reason why?
gloom of a store entrance, shouted —— ~
after the cabby an inarticulate ques- 1 Starch, like everything else, is be-
tion, and, getting no response, un- 'nK constantly improved, the patent
sheathed his night stick and loped up ' Starches put on the market 25 years
the avenue In pursuit, making the
locust sing upon the pavement at
every jump.
(to BE continued.)
PRICE OF LAMARTINE'S POEM.
Pecuniary Value Which the French
Poet Put Upon Hia Work.
The Paris Gauiols tells a good story
of Lamartine's estimate of the pe-
cuniary value of his poetry.
It was in 1848, when he was at the
acme of his glory and a cabinet min-
ister. He had Just contributed "La
Marseillaise de la Palx" to the Revue
des Deux Mondes, and Buloz, the
ago are very different and inferior to
those of the present day. In the lat
est discovery—Defiance Starch—ail
injurious chemicals are omitted, while
the addition of another ingredient, in-
vented by us, gives to the Starch a
strength and smoothness never ap
proached by other brands.
The Retort Unkind.
Gerald—A gentleman is defined as
: one who never gives pain.
Geraldine—Then you're no gentie-
' man; you give me a pain every time
[ you call.
Expert Opinion.
First Bird—Seen the airship?
... . . ... ... Second Bird—Yes; they will have
editor called on him at the ministry telegraph wire
"I believe I owe you £80. Here is the to ^
money," said Lamartlne, producing
a bundle of banknotes.
"Pray deduct the amount of the
Revue's Indebtedness to you for your
poem," said the editor.
"I meant to make you a present of
It," rejoined the poet.
"Not at all; I insist upon paying
you."
"How much?"
"Your own price, whatever It may
be."
"Ah, well; if you will have It so I
must oblige you," said Lamartlne; and
with a magnificent gesture he swept
up the whole bundle of noteB repre-
senting the £80 and restored them,
with solemn dignity, to his pocket.
Lewis' Single Binder made of extra qual-
ity tobacco, costs more than other 5c
cigars. Tell the dealer you want them.
Chicken-hearted people are
ready to hatch up an excuse.
always
Clear white clothes are a sign that the
housekeeper uses Red Cross Ball Blue,
Large 2 oz. package, 5 cents.
Too often when the heart is willing
the purse is weak.
The Whistling Boy.
But woe betide the hand that blda
the whistling boy be still! He Is the
sole survivor from an age of innocence
into one of Ill-starred knowledge;he
binds the disparities of the present
and the past. The same in country
lane and on the city pave—cosmo-
polite, blithe, hohemian, a little pagan
Pan!—is he, Amphibian of truant idle-
ness and endleBB preoccupations is he;
without rest, without haste, he shut-
tles back and forth between things as
they are and things as they are
dreamed. If, in these transmigrv
tlons, from the inner to the outer
world and back, he Impinges on the
edges of things a little sharply, he
cannot arouse our ire—for there is a
whistling boy within every man who
keeps his courage up as he passes
through the graveyard of ills bopei.—
Washington Po*t,
Guar*1:
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ti leers,Scrofulous I'lejirs.Jnrteoseljlr rs,ln-
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LrnC/rO W quick relief ana cures worst casea
Book of testimonials and 10 day ' treatmnnt Fit km
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Tucker, Fredrick E. The Konawa Chief-Leader and Konawa Times. (Konawa, Okla.), Vol. 4, No. 35, Ed. 1 Friday, August 13, 1909, newspaper, August 13, 1909; Konawa, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc98150/m1/3/: accessed April 24, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.