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a in BAQBDY; 'ma m r -i TUB uril) 01 MB Broker's Office. BY * W. F. MOTT, ' CHAPTER IX. Jason Garrison's Intense excitement was occasioned by the perusal of a brief article in the evening paper, which announced that James Sanborn had died euddenly at his residence in Albany, at ten o'clock that very morning. It was certainly something more than a mere coincidence, but James Sanborn was the man with whom Stuart Harland claimed to have had a business engagement on the nicrht of the murder. "I am 6aved! The death of James Banborn renders the discovery I have dreaded scarcely probable. What a weight is lifted from my mind! Now, I will see Stuart, and we -will come to an understanding," reflected the broker. But it was too lat-e to visit the prison that day, and so he was obliged to defer his call until morning. At the earliest hour on the following morning at which he could gain an entrance to the prison the broker visited Stuart Harland. The young man greeted his employer In a rather reserved manner, but he eagerly inquired as to how Edna had received the news of the misfortune which had so unexpectedly befallen him. Garrison assured Harland of the faith and confidence of his betrothed, and then he said: "I will not conceal from you, Stuart, that I understand why you persistently refused to explain the real motive of your midnight visit to Albany." "I was aware that you could not be ignorant of the consideration by which I was actuated. I had determined to shield you from the deplorable consequences of an act of criminal folly. I cannot comprehend, however, how, if in the possession of your senses, you could have been guilty of such a deed. It Beems to me that you must have known kn# In fho nrrlinnrv <?nnrao nt AY#m?R. "cllfapvery was inevitable," replied Har-. ?2*3. . > "-^^as driven to desperation. I was mad, if you will, and then, too, I counted upon redeeming the cheque, and equaling the matter by the payment of an extra thousand or so." "So you relied upon making terms with James Sanborn. "Where, may I ask, did you expect to procure the money?" "You have heard me speak of my Colorado property? Very well; I have put it up for sale. My agent announced that I could rely on receiving the price for which he had agreed to sell it?$80,000 by the 23d instant." "I begin to comprehend how you reasoned in the desperate extremity to which those scoundrels, Pratt and Weeks, had driven you, and yet I would never have deemed it possible that a business man like yourself would have resorted to such a desperate expedient as a forgery." "hush! some one may near ub. jl confess all, I forged James Sanborn's name to the cheque for $78,000," said Garrison, dropping his voice to a whisper. "I knew that I had so perfectly imitated his signature that it would be impossible for any one except James Sanborn himself to detect it, and I think it probable ho would not have suspected it had he seen the cheque, except for the fact that he would know he had not given paper for any such amount. "I knew that Sanborn would not see the cheque until he called on his banker to balance his account when it would be returned to him. I was also aware that he seldom had his account balanced and his cheque turned in more than once a month. I believed I should have ample time to fix matters with him even if my remittance of the purchase money from ihe sale of the Colorado claim was delayed. Yesterday I received the news from Western atrent that the nroD erty In Colorado could not be disposed of now?that the proposed sale had fallen through." "Then discovery Is inevitable and you are lost. I am sufficiently well acquainted with James Sanborn's character to comprehend that he will exact restitution or place yov in a criminal oell. When I visited Albany on the night of the murder I was on my way to see James Sanborn in your behalf. You know he is an old and devoted friend of our family. But let me explain how I discovered that the cheque for seventyeight thousand was a forgery despite your oonviction that it could not be detected. As you know I was James Sanborn's private secretary for a year, and oonsequently I am more familiar with hia signature than any one I know of. I examined the forged cheque after John Oakburn received it from you, and my suspicion was aroused, but I was not cure, for as you have Baid the imitation of the signature was wonderfully perfect. But chance decided the aoubt. Half an hour later I met John Sanborn in the street in companj with a friend. "We talked fur 8 few moments and he mentioned that vou had importuned him for a I large loan, out fie assured me that he had declined to advance you any money whatever. I was shocked and con fused and the presence of Sanborn's friend prevented me from speaking then. I hastened back to our office determined to reveal my discovery to John Oakburn and prevent his presenting the forged check at the bank. But fate was against me. When I arrived at the oiflc" Oakburn was not there, and I was informed that he had gone to the bank. 1 started In pursuit of him but I did not overtake him as I hoped I should. On the contrary I met him retnrnine with the money wnicfi fie &ad received for the check. It would have been useless to tell Oakburn then, and so I held my peace. But I had resolved that Edna's lather should not be disgraced, and I determined to see Sanborn and pledge my prospective fortune to pay the amount of the forged draft, and win his promise to Iroon the cor.pnt ,if vnnp/.nnio T frillnt,#?d on Sanborn's friendship, and the fact that since he is a millionaire he could wait for his money without inconvenience. But 1 knew Sanborn was no longer in the city, for when I encountered him on the street he was on his way to the depot and he had 6uid he should take the first train for home. The all tnportant question then was, when Would Sanborn see the forged check? 4?"It cfcaacsd the cashier Qf Jhe DanK at which tna~ cbeque was cashe was an old friend of mine, and from hii I succeeded in obtaining the inform? tion I desired while I concealed m purpose. "To my consternation I learped thr Mr. Sanborn had called at the bank ths very day and left instruction to have hi deposit book balanced and returned t him with cheques cashed to date by th first mail on the next morning. Then knew that I must see Sanborn that ver night. I determined to make the journe In secret so that no suspicion might b awakened in the mind of any one. B taking the 1:40 night train I knew that could make the trip to Albany and re turn by ten nest morning. As 1 was ai rested the moment I left the train i Albany, I was unable to see Mr. Sac born, and 60 all my efforts in your be half have failed and I have placed mj self in a false position which may prov most serious." The young man thus concluded his es planation. Then Garrison told him of James San bora's death. "You are saved then after all, for n one can prove the cheque a forgery no^ But I sincerely regret the death of m; old friend. How uncertain human ex istence is," said Stuart. "True; but Stuart, I cannot expres my gratitude to you. I am a peniten man. The experience through which have passed shall serve me as a life long lesson?one that will never be for gotten while I live," said Garrison. "I will keep your secret inviolate, bu the amount of the forged cheque shal 6ome day be made good to James San bora's estate," said Stuart. "It shall. If life is spared me, I wil make restitution in full," answered Garri son, earnestly. "But you must hate an< despise me," he added. "No, that would be to do violence t< our previous cordial relations. I pit; you and regret this unfortunate affair Money is but a mess of pottage weighe< against honor. But I understand you temptation. You were seeking to pro teet your credit, which is all in all to t man of business." Stuart understood Garrison's weal and cowardly nature, and he believet that he was sincere in all he said. "Above all, I am thankful that Ednj knows nothing of all this. Promise me fitnnrt shft shall hear nothinc from voui lips in reference to the cheque," imploret the broker. "Your daughter would be the last on< to whom I would think of revealing it,' replied Stuart. "I thank you again. But now let ut consider your own situation. I shal send you a lawyer, and Paxton, the detive, who has affirmed his belief in youi innocence from the very first, will call," said Garrison. After that they conversed for some time. Presently, when Garrison was about to leave the cell, he remarked: "Edna is very anxious to see you, and she would have insisted on accompanying me, had she known I was coming to call here. Ae I wished to see you alone, I did not jnform her. However, you may expect her before the $ay Jg over:" ? lhat afternoon, Edfli visited Stuart'S cell, and, as maj well be surmised, the meeting b?i\yeen the betrothed lovers was a ffiost affectionate one. But Edna could not understand why Stuart could so obstinately refuse to tell what was the motive of his midnight journey, when the explanation might have saved him, and there were certain ? - ? ~ 9 -rrrVt ! nVi A+Vl ArQ TTTQrfl { ft ? CJrcuuibmilLtro ui nmtu v/uiawo ?*ww *5 norant that troubled her. Stuart had promised to accompany her on an excursion by moonlight up the Hudson on the night of the murder, and they had planned to visit Stuart's aunt, who resided in Albany, and return on the following day. Edna suspected a mystery, butBhe entertained not the slightest suspicion ol the truth. In common with most women who love sincerely, she was inclined to jealousy. During the earnest conversation which ensued between the broker's daughter and her affianced, she approached the subject which troubled her. "Surely you can trust me, Stuart, for you know I am devoted to you. Will you not tell me the truth? what was the cause of your midnight journey to Albany?" Stuart was silent for a moment. She noticed his hesitation, and the thoughts which were in her mind were clearly reflected on her beautiful, mobile features. Stuart was quick to discern the shadow of doubt which had appeared upon the face of his betrothed, and he suspected its cause. "I cannot tell you why I visited Albany. It is a secret of another," finally oniH The shadow on Edna's fair lace deepened as she answered: "I am disappointed. Even though you would not trust my dear father whom you know to be the 6oul of truth and honor, I believed you would confide in me." "You do not doubt my innocence of the terrible crime?" "Oh, no, no. It is not that. But your strange reticence troubles me." "Ah," thought Stuart, with some bitterness, "the very act which I did to save her father, and the sacrifice for which I am paying the penalty now, has caused the woman I love to doubt me. But even had I not bound myself to keep the secret of her father's forgery, I could not blacken his reputation to his child, could not shatter her sublime faith in his tiuth and honor." Edna departed still troubled by Stuart's refusal to tell her the secret of his midnight journey. But while Harland was in prison, Marion Oakburn, the murdered cashier's daughter, was in doubt and trouble. She was working out the destiny which fate had ordained she should bring upon her?elf. From the time when 6he had discovered Judith Kredge, the Janitor's siste at her chamber door, Marion knew that she was in a position more cruelly trying than she believed could possibly have been the outgrowth of any series of episodes to which the fact of her father's murder and the attendant cir cumtstance8 could have given birth. Mexion Oakburn feared Judith Kredgo; there could be no doubting that. Bui why did she experience this terror? Only the guilty fear, it is said, and yot this noble girl was the last ono at whom suspicion of wrong-doing of any kind would be directed, it seemed. But herein is the mystery, herein a complication so strange and inexplicable that wo cannot fathom it. and which was destined long to perplex and puzzle Paxton, the detective, in the task of unraveling the mystery of John Oakburn's fate, which he had undertaken with all his heart. On the evening following the murder Marion was closeted in her sleeping room. She had turned the key In the lock, and she believed thtfi door was se[ cured. \\ ith trembling hand1?, she unlocked and opened a trunk, liftod out the tray, and removed the contents of the receptacle beneath it until the bottom of the trunk was reached, and a strangelooking pistol of largo caliber which was concealed there was disclosed to h er view. Marlon shuddered as her eyes rested upqp the deadly weapon. _ j "i areaa to toucn it, ana yet it mt; ' be gotten rid of," she muttered. The nest instant a startled cry e " caped her lips as 6he felt a heavy ha: ^ on her shoulders, and through her mil darted the appalling thought: "The secret is discovered! All is losl it 8 chapter x. q Marion Oakburn had not secured tl j door as she supposed 6he had done, ai Judith Kredge, who seemed to have d y voted herself to the task of spying up< g the cashier's daughter, entered the roo in a stealthy manner, and crept to Ma j ion's side. She it was who placed h hand upon the shoulder of the girl i she 6tood gazing into the trunk whe the strange-looking pistol lay. Dropping the lid of the trunk with " crash, Marion wheeled about instant ~ as she felt the weight of Judith's han " "You here!" she cried excitedly, i she beheld the woman. "Yes, and I saw the pistol at the bo " torn of that trunk." "You saw it?" "Yes, and it is not the first time, saw you conceal it in your trunk on tl 0 night of your father's murder," answer* ' Judith Kredge. 7 "Woman, what awful thought is i " your mind?" "You know well enough. You unde: 9 stood me when I told you vou were i X 1 my power," replied the woman and the i- suddenly bending forward she hissed i - Marion's ear: "You killed your own father!" t This was Judith Kredge's terrible a< .1 cusation. Marlon staggered to the couch wit which the sleeping-room was provide 1 and sank down upon it. But in a m< - ment she started up again and confronte I Judith Kredge with all the dignity < offended innocence. 5 "It is false! It is a lie; a base, amor 7 strou? lie!" she cried. Juaitn ivxeage laugnea nurmieseiy. j "You see what evidence 6ent Stuai r Harland to prison. How much strongei how much more terrible is the evidenc ^ I can give against you," she said. "Judith, you are doing me an awfi c wrong!" I "No, I saw you with my own eyes. know you had just come from the offic v in which your father lay dead when yo called at my room and pretended yo J were so much alarmed bccause you j father had not come home." "And you who know me can believ j 6ueh an awful thing of me?" ? "It matters not how well you'may pla your part, Miss Marion, I am not to b , deceived. Girl, my evidence woul L hang you!" Judith Kredge uttered the last word . In a terrible voice. i "Do you mean to publicly accuse me? "That depends." , "Upon what? Speak plainly. One and for all, you and I must clearly un derstand each other, Judith Kredge." ' "If it was made worth my while 1 micht keep your secret," answered Ju dith Kredge, and there *?as a cunnin; glance in her eyes. "Ah, you mean that I must brib you?" "Put it that way if you like." ? The two women gazed at each othe in filcnce for a moment, and each wa striving to read the other's most secre thought. "Tell hie your price," said Marion. "Vou have three thousand dollars?" "Yes, and that ib all I have." "Very well, then you can jpay me n< ' more. That amount will do," said Ju dith. with a malicious crin. - Ana vou would tbus rob me?leav me penniless?" i "Yes, my fair lady. Ha, I want to Be your pride have a fall. I'd like to se you feel what it is to want, as I have i] my timo. What are you? You are n< better than I am. Work, work as I hav done or?starve," hissed the vindictiv ! creature in a harsh voice. "You are an ungrateful wretch! A ser pent to turn and ating the hand that ha fed you. But you shull have your price I'll not relinquish my purpose yet," Ma rion Oakburn answered resolutely. Judith Iiredge chuckled exultantly. To here elf she muttered half inaud Ibly: "Three thousand dollars. Not a ha night'6 work. It was lucky that I hap pened to be awake and see her. Sh was honest when she said she only hai three thousand dollars, which I knew t be the amount of a legacy she received Now, who got tho 6tolen money, I won der. Ah. mv dear brother Levi, you ar i keeping a secret from me, I thick; w shall see whether you are more cunninj than I am, or not." One evening several days subsequent ly, after the remains of John Oakburi had been consigned to their last restini place and "the crime of the broker' office" had ceased to be the one excitin; topic of conversation, Marion Oakburi received a call. The visitor of the cashier's daughte was the old gentleman called Kichari Stanmore. The appearnnoe of the aged strange agitated Marion stTangelj*, and she di< not regain her composure until 6he hai been in his presence for some moments In a few well-selected words Stan more explained that he had taken i great Interest in the mysterious murde of her father. He al60 asked a numbe of questions which immrtlf an swered. Thus Stanmore obtained the Information that Marion supposed her father tc be worth a small fortune and that th< money had been kept in his privat< 6afe which stood in the rear apartmen' of the broker's office, which it seemet the assassin had not opened. Thi6, we remember, was precisely th< Information she had given Jason Garrl son. Marion also in the course of the inter view found occason to reiterate her con viction in terms most positive tha Stuart Harland was entirely innocenl oi all Knowledge oi tne terriDie crime. So very confident was she on thlf point that Stanmore thought: "One would surmise that she has som< proof of Harland's innocence whie^J sh< does not care to reveal. "Permit me to inquire, Miss Oakburn if I can tie of assistance to you in an^ way?" Stunmoro usked, as the though' that she might be in need of financia help entered his mind. "Thanks, I need no help at present sir," answered Murion, and a flush ol color stole into her pale cheeks. "Pardon me. I was in former day! your father's friend, and if at any tim< you should find yourself in need of i friend upon whose fidelity you could depend against all the world, call on Iiich ard Stanmore," s-aid the old gentleman and he placed a curd on which was writton his address in Marion's hand. Then bowing low, after the manner o: the gallants of the olilen time, he pressec the hand Marion had given him to hil lips and took his departure. Stanmore's features were unusuall] pale during the interview which hac just ended, and a keen observer wouk have suspected he was fighting a battl* ?ltw 1J1VOU JHMYCliUl DUUCl VlliUUUilJ which were struggling for the mastery Once out upon the street he reeled as though he was the victim of a sudder 1 vertigo and muttered in a brokei voice: "Poor girl! Poor Marion! There is i mystery here that must be solved Fates! How weak I am. The old spel came upon me. It was an ordeal, but i' is oast. How beautiful she is. but hou isi troublod and haggard her lovely lea aro. Oh, Marion! Marion!" is- "When the cashier's daughter I ad herself alone after Stanmore's de id ure the agitation which she had repr during the interview just conclude) -I" trayed itself. The excited girl trembled nerve "I feel that he is an honest man, he thought, "and I will trust him. ad can tell? The time may yet e- when I shall be glad to remind hi 3n the promise to befriend me in the m of dire extremity." r. Then she drew a locket from a < er about her neck, and, opening it, pr< as to her lips a miniature which it re tained. "It was the glance of this strange a tleman's eye that unnerved me. ly the same when I saw him in the c d. His eyes are like those of poorDoni ni Yes, I feel that he Is honorable true," she said, and gazed lovingly t> the portrait in the locket. Meanwhile, after leaving Ma Richard Btanmore repaired to the I of Paxton, the detective. A+ *Mo HoffinHrfi wo.a a/ [0 XX b UliiO UVUA vuv wvwvwmt V ff WW v< id at his office desk reading and pond upon the contents of the letter whii [n had abstracted from the package of respondence found in John Oakb r- safe. ,n The letter was rather a lengthy but one particular passage seem* n fasten Paxton's attention, and he 13 it carefully several times. The passage which the detective apparently endeavoring to impress his memory was as follows: "The hour shall come, John Oakl * when you will be sorry for the | !<i wrong you have done me." >m The letter was signed "Donald i d bum." " Paxton had not been idle sinc< Coroner's inquest had ended. He l" procured casts of the footprints ^ he had discovered under the rear dow of Garrison's office, and he ha ** stituted a diligent search for the stra r? who had exchanged overcoats 0 Stuart Harland. il Despite all the efforts ot the dete< and hiB expert auxiliaries, the ques 1 the man who had in his pocket the si e ton keys and the wax imnrefisions o u u sare and door locks of Garrison's c j. had thus far resulted only in fai Not one solitary clue either to the i tity or whereabouts of this mystei personage was discovered. _ "When Harland explained to the C * ner that the stranger had exchai j overcoats with him, he had not neg ed to give an accurate and minut* . acription of the unknown. Paxton had the word picture of n man in his mind, and he was confi that he should recognize him i glance. The detective believed that St Harland told the truth, and therefoi j naturally formed the theory that the who carried the skeleton keys was e: ' John Oakburn's assassin or a conf B rate of the criminal. Paxton had never hoped for su perfect clue as was furnished hie Btuart Harland's description of th< sassin. "The tone of this letter is cert? t rather threatening," said Paxton a read the passage from the letter sij b>' "Dgaald "Wayburn," which we 1 produced. ? "I mu?t ascertain who Donald T bum is, and his antecedents musl 3 i * ? *? j ? ti. iOOKeu Up. XL lb puasiuju kuuk iuu was not the only motive for this cr Revenge may have played a part i I The idea has occurred to me that it possibly turn out that Donald Way' 8 is the name of the man who carried e skeleton keys. Wc have learned q the name the fellow gave Harland o an alias which he had assumed foi 0 occasion." e Paxton did not know that Donald the given name of a man whose por Marion Oakburn carried in her lot 9 and whom we may suppose was i. dear to her. There was more of mystery in the than Paxton yet suspected. He had placed Donald Wayburn's ter carefully in a safe where he kepi portant documents, when there cai d rap at the office door. Paxton a moment later saw Ric: e Stanmore, who opened the door o d bade him enter. c *}f course the old gentleman wa I. entire stranger to the detcctive. bi received him very politely and ini e him to be sotted. 0 [*0 BE CONTINUED.} 3 . Blessed Be Onions. ' One of the healthiest vegetable Q the onion; yet, strange to say, very = people use it as liberally as they sho ? Boiled onions used frequently i I* family of children will ward of m of the diseases to which the little < r are subject J The principle objection to the pro: cuous use of this vegetable is that r odor exhaled after eating is so oi | slve. 1 A cup of strong coffee taken ire I diately after eating is claimed to be a cellent in counteracting this effect. r Although for a day or so after ea r onions the breath may have a disag - able odor, yet after this time it be much sweeter than before. For croup onion poultices are \ , with success, providing the chil< j kept out of draughts and a sudden < 3 avoided. The poultices are made b warming the onions in goose oil i 1 soft, then putting them on the ch feet and chest as hot as they car J borne. Except in very obstinate c? when taken in time, the croup rea yields to onions. This, although an old-fashioned i t edy, is a good one, as any mother * 1 A ?-? *i 1?? r\4* AliJI/lmn i IIUS urou^ill U]) >L lUUiiij ui vuiiuivu attest. 1 Onions are excellent blood purif and for eradicating boils or any of ' blood humors are very efficacious. They are good for the complexion a friend who has a wonderfully cl r tine complexion attributes it to the t eral use of onions as food. 1 Teople suffering from ner troubles are much benefited by u | these vegetables frequently, ei cooked or raw. 5 When troubled with a hard coug ) a raw onion is eaten the phlegm i loosen almost immediately, and ca: removed with very little effort Those troubled with wakefulness insure a good night's rest often if, before retiring, they eat a raw onic . There are few aches to which I dren are subject as hard to bear 3 as painful as earache. One of the remedies we know of is to take r the heart of an onion (a red onion if 1 best if it can be had, although, lac 1 this kind, any other can bo used) | roast it. When soft put it into th< footed oar as hot as it can be be j Unless the cause is deeper than < ! narily the pain will cease in a 1 short time and will not return. 1 A tramp stole a box of soap in Ai j sou tiie other day. That fellow 01 (; to be watched; lie evidently warn i set out of that section in disguise. Z MODERN MARVELS iparteased END-OF-THE-CENTI RY INVEX i be- 1VEKESS ILLUSTRATED. lusly. " she A Wonderful Apparatus Which Mci "Who ures a Runner's Reaction Time come ?New Self-Propelling chain s?*>v j] 0f busiest departmeii 'con- ( I of Yflle University is t; V y psychological departraer gen. over which Professor E. T I felt Scripture presides. Some new iuve ifflce. tion or apparatus is developed the aid's. every little while, and the world wo and ders at the ingenuity of the devic upon Professor Scripture has given a repr sentative of the the New York Tim office Par^ca^ar8 ^ arrangement ju contrived for ineasnring a runnel sated reaction time. It will be of great i ering tereRt to the world of sports. In di 3h be cussing tho device, Professor Scri cor- ture said: . urn's "Everybody loses time. It tak time to think and time to act. one, ? to " read ) waa / 1 ,this MEASURING A RUJ dent a somebody touches you with a h< mart poker or a Hglited cigarette, a certai e he period of timo elapses before you ai man able to jerk your hand away. If son [ther one touches your hand, it takes tin ede- for the impression of heat to pass u the sensory nerve in the arm, throng a the spinal cord, into the brain. ! >as^ takes still more time for the compl . hrnin r>rcif?paspB t.r? nftp.nr. whifi ? r-y , linly finally result in a nervous impuls* ,s he "which passes down the motor nerve ?ned of the arm through the muscles an have causes them to move the hand. _ .yThis which, js lost is calle , 7- tile Taction tiui?. So far we ha\ berv considered it only as a physiologic im<^ matter. Viewed from the psychology n it' cal or mental side, this pfoccsl cor may eists in feeling an impression of hec burn and in willing to draw the hand awaj the Let us consider for a moment if ther t-h** were no reaction time. If you coul Tf* withdraw yor hand the instant an] 0 thing touched it, a hot coal could b was applied to the skin and you coul trait -fefcl> ftntl ye* there would be no tim :ket, time for the coal to burn the skir very The leDgth of the reaction time is 1 many cases a very important factoj case In the runner it muet be made ver stort. In the whale it is very coi im- venient that the time is extremel ue a long. The sailor :an drive his ha: poou into the whale. It takes s hard Ion# for the impulse to run up an is he back the long nerves in the whale tha the sailor has time to get his boat or s an of the way before the whale strik< 'it^d "In running sprint races, it is ver ased I 3 is I THE NEW AMERICAN-! chilli 1 by I important to save even the fifth of mtilj second. It has been proved by e: ild'sj periment that the time which elaps< 1 bej between the firing of the starter's pi ises, j aDj the actual starting of the rui (lily ner is long enough to influence tl < mi?.:, ih ' winning 01 a race, xms is me rui rem- j ner's reaction time. The sound strike who ijjB eaT>i tjjg nervous impulse goes t can; brain, the brain process must o< cur, and then the impulses must g iers, i out t0 his legs. The reaction time c thei a runner may vary from one-sixth t | one-third of a second. The stop and. matches record in fifths of a second 'e^r,| So that the quick man may gai lib"; enough from his reaction tims to ju: I win the race. rousj <?^n firrangement for measuring s'n?, ranner's reaction time down to th "ier thousandth of a second, as shown i ; the picture, has been contrived in th }*. Yale Laboratory. The starter's pis tol is arranged so that an electric cor Q tact is broken when the pistol goes ofi A thread is attached to the right foe ma3" of the rnnner, as can be seen in th Just figUre in the picture. This threai )n- lirpulfR an electric contact the mo ck'l" ment the runner starts. Each of thes an(* electric contacts makes a mark on bcst smoked cylinder in such a way the out the time which has elapsed betwee ; ^e; the first contact and the second can b kiDSi measured." and j af >rne. AXewSelf-Propelling Vchlclc. Drdi- ]atest nntj apparently mos tc1T practical self-propelling vehicle yc produced in this country has just bee tchl- perfected at Springfield, Mass., afte llt three years of experimentation. Thi improved motor carriage is daily trav I ersing the roadways of Western Ma< ! eacnusetts. The total weighs is GO ' V w. f* pounds. The wheels are rubber-tired ' and run on ball bearings. The front wheels turn on their own T- pivot located in the hub, the axle being firmly held by the side bar?. The lev<;r in front wholly controlls the carriage. The lateral movement turns the wheel?, the vertical motion starts and stops the vehicle, changes its rate of speed and also reverses its movement, driving it backward when desired. The lever connections all have its ball joints, which can never become tie loose and cause Jost motion. A brake it, drum of peculiar construction is placed V. under the feat and connected with ft n- thumb bnttou located at the front ce corner of the seat. By pressing the n- thumb upon this button the carriage, e. if running twelve miles an hour, can e- be stopped within a distance of four es feet. st The variable speed ranges from r'a three to sixteen mi Ins an hour, the n- normal rates being three, six and ten is- miles. To obtain these different rates p- the motor does not change its speed. The increase is made in the gearing, es which is alternately rawhide and iron If and runs quite btill. To obtain a 55? . ^^ iNER'S REACTION TIME. 3t greater speed than ten miles an hour, n the pressing of the button at the front re of the 6eat will increase the speed of le the motor. The mechanism runs upon te ball bearings wherever possible, and p otherwise metaline bearings are used, h rendering oiling unnecessary. It The motor has a driving capacity of i- four-horse power and what is usually h termed a gasoline motor. It is com?, pactly located in the box of the body, !s weighs 120 pounds, and is of an imd proved type, double cylinder and selfregulating as to work required. Pe d culiar and ingenious devices are -e employed in the mixture of gasoline il with air to produce the proper quality i- of gas, onlv a small drop of gasoline i- being used at one time. The gas so tt produced comes in contact with an '. electric spark, thereby producing an e expansion of the air in the cylinder, d which is already very much compressed r- by the action of the piston. ?e The cost of running this carriage is d one-fourth of a cent a mile. A supply e can be carried sufficient for 150 miles i. and can readily be replenished at any n town en route. r. The motor has proved entirely reliv able, having been run several weeks on l- a test, and shows no variation in power y or speed. It is simple, 'will cost but r- little to run, and is applicable to busio ness as well as pleasure purposes, d lt A Puzzler From Japan. it }8 The Japanese are very ingenious about inventing puzzles. Here is one y that a reader of the Pathfinder in one [ADE II0RSELE3S VEHICLE. a of the missionary school? of the old ?- capital of Japan, the beautiful city of ;s Kioto, contributes. First cut a piece s- of paper, or better still, cardboard, l- thre6 iDches square, and out of the le upper left-hand comer cut a piece out 1* J U9L UUC liiUil :ij uuic, ibo out.' it u 1U tuw ;8 upper diagram. Then cut the reo mainder on the dotted linee, dividing it up into three pieces. o The puzzle is to rearrange these >f three pieces so as to make a perfect o > F \ . n N ^ it \ 7 . i? >. e * \ n * \ / N 6 ? I- / f. / it L e It \Sv * t n ! A JAPANESE PUZZLE. r s square. By looking tit ihe lower - figure you will see how it is (lone, but 3- ti*y it on your friends find they are 9 pretty sure to find it a difficult matter, ;v An Ocean Lelter-Box. A peculiar custom prevails among the skippers and fishermen in Australian waters. These hardy "marines are often for months at a time away from . THE SAILOR'S LETTEB-BOX. their homes, cruising to and fro ifl search of fish, shells, coral or sponges. Away from all communication with the civilized world, they have erected ^ on points of vanta.p^ situated near much frequented ocean highways high stones, to which they attached an VVU.;| empty barrel at a convenient hight. Here they deposit all letters they wish fesS to mail, with money for the postage, m and a pearl or a bit of coral as a reward for the one collecting this mail. In fact, it is nothing less than a letter- 'M,| bnt nn His r>nrnpr r.f the street. Retm lar steamers passing weekly call at tbose of the silent stations that are most patronized, and a system lias "\|j been found to leave some mail there. ^ All that is required is the previous ; i annoucement at what mailpost letters Xwl are to be left, and the heart of the lonesome mariner may be gladdened 'V; .'\ra with news from home every week. A / $? special tax is now collected for calling at such points.?Philadelphia Record. In Memory ot Unknown Dead. The accompanying cut is a likeness ?jjg? of a handsome monument to the mem- 'f-| ory of the unrecognized dead of the f ? Ashtabula disaster, which has just been erected in Chestnut Grove Cemetery, Ashtabula, Ohio. It marks ?he spot MONUMENT TO THE UNRECOGNIZED DEAD 1 OF THE ASHTABULA DISASTER OF 1876. ' TTmI where were buried the charred portions of humanity which were gathered from the ruins of that terrible disaster of December 29, 1876, when the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern Railroad bridge, just east of the station in Ashtabula, sank beneath ft r-li heavily-laden passenger train and carried hundreds of persons to death in the abyes, eighty-feven feet below the track level. The idea of erecting a jijRj monument to the memory of those who , died on that awful night originated in < flioTC-nicrVita rtf Pvthias Lodire in A&hta- 1 oula, and a committee of the members . 4. 'I brought it out before the people. It , took three years tc raise the amount of money needed. The Lake Shore road grave $20 J. The monument ie> oi New Hampshire granite and built in obelisk style. It is thirty-two feet in height and occupies a conspicuous J-'iw location in the cemetery, where it can be seen miles away. On one side of the base appear the names of twentyfiva persons who were known to have perished in the wreck and whose re mains were presumaoly picked up, but could not possibly be identified. On another side appear the names of the members oi the committee. The front inscription reads: "To the memory of the unrecognized dead of the Ashtabula bridge disaster, whose remains ; are buried here." On the fourth side are the dates of the disaster and the unveiling. Killed an (Jt:er in His Yard. 4^ On Sunday last, aa Mr. Alfred S. ^ BabyloD, Frizzelburg, Carroll County, was sitting in the yard of hfe home, a large otter entered and im; mediately attacked his dog, which it y whipped in a few seconds, iu fighting . Hi- -fiininl stood on its hind leffe, bit I ing savagely with its sharp teeth. A* j j soou as the <1 u.r was whipped the otter i turned his attention to Mr. Babyloc I nud attacked him, giving him a liard j fight, iu which he found great diffi| caity iu avoiding its teeth, but finally ' succeeded in killing it. It weighed twenty-six pounds, and the skin, I which is a fine one, wiil be stuffed and j kept as a trophy. No one had ever I seen an otter around Frizzelburg before.?Baltimore (Mil.) Sun. Au Act ol Unusual Bravery. An unusually brave deed is that oi an engineer named Sample, of the British steamer Federal. While iu Champion Bay, Australia, one of the water tubes of the engine burst. It being necessary to stop the escaping steam and water, ho stripped, walked into the steam and boiling water and ^ i turned it off. beinff terribly scalded iu the process.?Chicago Tiaies-Herald. ?t'\ Alliance, Ohio, boasts an eye-wit; ness of the battle of Waterloo in the | person of James R. Green, who loves j to tell the story of the great fight to i all who caje to hear it firut liaml A