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*P ... V'? * .-"TT TWt -i- . ?v, , ? r' ^ . ... J%#-V ' - - -- - ~ ^ ^ ^ "" ^ ^ JCSSXTKU SEMI-WEEKL^ ^ ^ -v ? _ fi ? 1 ' - ; .; l. m. grists sons. pnbushera. { % 4ami'8 If'ESjaper: 4or (M promotion of the political, foetal. tjgricnltnral and (Commercial Interests of the people. {TJiS . established 1855. YORKVILLE. S. C? TITE8DAY, APRIL 14, 1.9Q8. ~~ XO. 3Q. ? Iff 1 By CLARENCE I wrtifwwiwniwnirnniwiwiiw CHAPTER XVIII. Prior's Conclusions. Prier read Mr. Jahnway's letter a second time, a third time and a fourth He laid it down at last. "I don't understand it at all." he said sadly: "I don't understand it at all The letter is cold, flippant, insulting, And yet?there is a vein of earnestness running through it all. And he has befriended Senn. He has taken him away from his gloomy thoughts, and away from the chances of insults and slights. I wonder if he really Know? anything which might be of service to me. or whether that hint is as careless and baseless, as much he has written seems to be. 1 wonder whether his invitation to me to come and hunt him up is a mockery of my efforts or a challenge to my earnestness? I wonder?i wonder everything, almost; and 1 know?almost nothing! If I could only look into Jasper Jahnway's face for a half-dozen minutes; if I could only exchange a dozen words with him, I should not be so utterly in the dark as I now am. And why may I not? It wouldn't take a day to find a fishing vessel, somewhere along the coast here, that would be safe for an ocean voyage, and that could be hired for a reasonable sum, captain, crew and all. It might not be very comfortable; but I am ready to sacrifice comfort in this matter. I don't know the name of Jahnway's vessel, but I think I can find out without great difficulty. I don't know where he will go, but after all he has written about the cold and the season I doubt his going far south; and if he has been a sailor, as he hints and Patsy Gullens says, I don't think he'll get very far off shore. If I ? hunt for him from Newfoundland to New York, and in a strip of water reaching two hundred miles off shore, * 11 '? f T rl An't finH i .snan of usuuusiiru 11. i him. "Danger?hardship?expense?uncertainty?I realize all that. But I'll be blamed if I don't hang somebody. I'll be blamed if I don't go out after Jasper Jahnway within forty-eight hours." Mr. J. B. Prier had one enviable characteristic appertaining to his Will. You know he often let impulse sway him: you know he often listened to the dictates of his keen analytical powers of reason: in these respects he was like most men. Nor was he a very remarkable man as regarded his power 4,1 U,rt Af nurrvACO Rllf hP 'II w 111 mi* 'tiAivjr pu *??. had the power, when he had once made up his mind to do a thing, of putting if aside until the proper time came. It was a power we might any of us covet. He had decided to hire a large and well constructed fishing vessel as soon as he could find a suitable one. He had decided to hunt thoroughly the space he had decided it would be likely Jahnway would cruise in. This was a great undertaking. It was a strange thing to do. It seemed quixotic. It was entirely unprecedented in Frier's experience. He was going outside of anything he had ever known. He had never heard of a detective doing as he was about to do. No matter, though all that were true. ? He had decided to go. He was going. I^et his plans stand in general, without further thought; let them wait for the arrangement of details until a more convenient season. "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof," he quoted, gravely, as he put thought of the coming dangers and difficulties of the ocean voyage resolutely from him and took out the little book in which he had put the analysis of the anonymous |t*l Ifl . "What shall I write? Shall it be: Who killed Constance Craig?' Alas, no; there is no use in writing that. Shall?it?not?rather?he " And he mused silently for some minutes. "Yes." he said, aloud, suddenly and with emphasis. "Yes, I will write that. It will busy my mind for a little time. But I will not write such a statement of negations in my book; I will write it elsewhere." He closed his book. He put it in his pocket. He drew a loose sheet of paper toward him. He wrote on the first line, in large letters: "Who did not Kill Constance Craig. He went on with his work, its follows: "Gilbert Senn did not kill Constance Craig. In spite of circumstantial evidence. in all its strength?in spite oi the new link in the chain which was placed in my hand by Matilda Webb when she was dying, Gilbert Senn is innocent. He carries truth and honesty in his face: I would stake my soul on his honor: it does not need the agreement of the anonymous letter with the confession Jahnway sent me, nor the fact that neither is like the writing of this ill-used man, to prove that Gilbert Senn is guiltless." The detective was growing tired. He suppressed a yawn; and then he yawned, a half-minute later, without ti-vinir rii soirmress it- ho looked sit the inviting bed; he listened, from his comfortable place before the fire, to the wild night outside; his pen moved less freely; lie wrote much less?said much less aloud?and one could but have I believed, could one have looked upon J him, that he thought much less. "Walter Aldtich did not kill Constance Craig." He wrote that. He said nothing. His face darkened. Cndoubtedl.v he believed Aldrich a liar. Rut he exonerated him fiom all responsibility regarding the greater crime?the crime of murder. "Elsie Senn is innocent." It took no time for thought to enable him to write that. "John Kane is guiltless." He muttered a half-apology to himself for having used the clergyman's name at all. And then, as he pushed the ink from him, and sat lazily, s moment or two, before rising, he thought of the face he had seen in Kane's album. And he wrote, half unconsciously, the yMuiitnyMntiifciyiitniiiiiiyiy 1 i : BOUTELLE. \ wiwywfiiwunfwwn ui HI IW HI i name of one who had pone away from his sight and knowledge long years be fore: "Lurline Bannottie." Ho wrote that. He wrote no more. He rose. He undressed. In Ave minutes he had let the sound of the storm soothe him to sleep. He slept as calmi ly as though there were no mystery in , the world?as calmly as though mur, der were unheard of in all God's uniI verse?as sweetly as he ever slept in I the far vanished years, a helpless in, fant on his mother's knee. , Prier awoke in the early morning. , The night lingered yet. especially In so * dark a place as was Jahnway Park, ? . ? ? * - 1 *UU1. I Willi IIS X1 letIl> UIIU llIK n-."3jj?raua?6 tre^s. But the storin was done, and s the snow lay everywhere in fantastic drifts of virgin whiteness, type of a better world and a better, better fu- 8 tuiv, sometime, somewhere. t The detective rose at once. He descended to the dining room. Philip I was evidently pleased at his punctuality; he was just a minute early. The <3 meal was as good as the one of the f evening before. Mr. Prier did as am- t pie justice to it as he had to the supper? perhaps because the thought of r his coming sea voyage made him hun- c gry already. At six o'clock the sleigh, large and comfortable, full of robes q and blankets, came to the door. Mr. I Prier took his seat in it. Philip took a t seat beside him. The driver spoke to > the horses. Away they went, through the keen air of the bright morning, to v the station. Philip, or Philip's master, i< had arranged the time for the successive events in Prier's visit with great b care and thoughtfulness?the train was already in sight when they arrived at e Jahnway Station, after an almost si- t lent and decidedly unsocial drive. The JJ train rolled up to the station. Prier 1' turned and shook hands with Philip, v Philip bowed gravely to the detective, 1' and said a few words of stately fare- v well to him as he stepped from the v sleigh. Then, as Prier got aboard, he ?i drove back toward Jahnway Park, neither he nor the driver looking be- r hind to see what might or might not b happen. They had obeyed Jasper v Jahnway's orders; they had been given t unthinking: ana unquestionea merai ? obedience for so many years that curl- e osity had been crucified within them, a Why should they look back? But Prier, d looking after the hurrying sleigh with a t return of that grim smile we have seen t on his face so many times, stepped off d the train as it rolled away, and entered P the waiting room of the little station. e The first man he saw was Patsy o Gullens. Patsy Gullens was not a h worker: he was usually at leisure; and h he found his pleasure in being where P the greatest excitement, which came a toward his narrow and humdrum life could be found. He rarely missed seeing any train which passed Jahn- n way Station?be the time day or night, s summer or winter?and be the weather hot or cold, wet or dry. Perhaps. '' had Patsy Gullens's lot been cast un- K der other influences, and amid other scenes, he might have been a different man. It is hard, for a man whose nerves must be irritated with excite- t ment in order that he may live, to be o shut away from the world and its P pleasures as was Patsy Gullens. A call for him to go away, whatever the place?the reason??ne worn?wouia dc a temptation lie would lind it hard to g refuse. d "Good morning:. Mr. Gullens," said Prier. "Good morning." "I'd like to ask you a few questions this morning." t "All right. About Jasper Jahnway?" n "Yes. I didn't find Jahnway at home." "I knew you wouldn't." v "You knew he was away?" "Yes." "Why didn't you tell me. then?" a "You didn't ask me, and besides, after I found out what sort of a man you were?found out you really amounted to something?you did not give me i any chance." Prier laughed. y "I guess there is something in that. s Hut. if you know that, he is away, j>er- v haps you know where la1 has gone? t. where 1 can find him. Do you?" a "No, I don't. And I don't think any \ one does. He went away in his yacht, (j some few days ago?I don't know just \ how many?and no one knows why he went, where he went, or how long he will remain away?at least no one y , knows that I've had any chance to talk \ i with about it." "Do you know the name of his , yacht?" s "Certainly?the Homeward Bound." "A good vessel?" v "I think so, I " "You've seen her. of course?" 1 "Yes." 1 | "Ever been aboard?" f -No." * "Would you think, from what you r , know of her. that she'd do to cross the , ocean in?" 1 Patsy (1 aliens looked away toward :l the seii. the Ions billows of which, huge s and sullen still by reason of the buffet' ing of last night's storm, could be seen f in the distance, sweeping in toward j shore, while the thunder of their eter- j nal tramp on the beach came harsh and strong upon the breeze of morn- v . ing. His eyes glittered. His cheeks ! flushed. His form straightened. For , a little time he was not the slouching braggart and cowardly wretch he had been for years; for a half-minute he a seemed a man?in a good, almost in the . best, sense of the word?a man. , Then the passion died out of his j face. The flush faded from his cheek, j leaving only the red which was the ( seal and signet of the dominion of al- ( coltol. His shoulders bent again. He v i turned to Prier. ^ 1 "I've lived here all my life," he said, i sullenly, "here at Jahnway Station: I've ] ' never been twenty miles from where t i we are standing in all the years I have t lived. I've seen the sea every day; I've | > listened to it every night; and I've f lever been out far enough to be out of dght of land. Fishing alongshore? kVhen 1 had to; lighting; drinking; ounging around this station to see the [rains pass, carrying with them some r>int of the world outside: this has been riy life. I cannot read. I cannot .vrite. I have been a lazy fellow always. But?I can't help loving the >cean; and so, when you ask me wheth?r I think Homeward Bound would do :o cross the ocean in, I say I'd cross :he ocean in her?if I had the chance." Prier smiled. He had seen this sort >f man before. Men, passion wrecked jecause of the quiet barrenness of heir lives, men mad for something hey had never known and could not magine. were not new to him. "You'd like to go to sea, would you?" u- asked. "Like it? Indeed I would. Hut here's the wife and children. I?I :ouldn't leave them to starve you mow." "To starve?" Then changing his roice so that a strain of sternness sounded in it. while he looked closely ind critically at the man before him, 3rier asked; "How much better than hat has it been for them, I'd like to mow ?" Gullens scowled. "1 don't know as it is for you to isk?" he replied, gruffly. "But 1 do ask." "I wouldn't let any of the boys here it Jahnway Station ask such a quesion. They wouldn't dare." "Perhaps not. I presume not. But dare. I ask it?" There was a pause. Gullens looked lown. He worked the snow back and orth, nervously and tremblingly, with he toe of his boot. Then, suddenly, the detective's voice ang out, clear as a bell, sharp and Inisive as a knife: "And I am in the habit of having my luestions answered when I ask them, low much better than starvation has he condition of your family been for ears?" Gullens did not look up. He only forked the snow to and fro more rapdly. "How often have they suffered for read that you might have liquor?" Gullens's hand clasped and unclaspd themselves. He was in torture?on he rack: not so much because of the ticture the detective's words brought lonie to him, with its long tale of print ion for his family and disgrace to limself, but because he had met a man those appeal he did not dare to meet fith the argument of hrute force?a nan he did not dare to threaten. He clinched his hands; the words of he detective seemed burning in his rain. He unclinched them again; he ras thinking of the story Prier had old him twelve hours before of his kill as a boxer. He felt in his pockt for his knife, a wicked weapon, and dangerous thing in the hands of a esperate man; he was pondering on he scorn Prier had put into the queslons he had asked. He let the knife rop from his hand, "back into his ocket again, and drew his hand out mpty; he was thinking of the falling f the dead leaf through the snowy air ist night, and wondering why Prier's and was resting carelessly in the ocket of his coat as he waited for his nswer. Come. Gullens," said Prier, sternly, I've waited long enough. Give me ny answer. How much better than tarvation?" Gullens glanced up. For one second e faced Prier's eyes. Then his lance fell. "Not much, 1 suppose," he said. Prler had conquered. "Very well; now let us get back to he questions again. Do you think any lie would try to cross the ocean in the lomeward Bound?" "No; not unless he was a fool, or?" "Well, or whom?" ."Or Jasper Jahnway. There's no uessing what he would or wouldn't o." "You don't like Jasper Jahnway?" "No, sir; 1 don't." "You aire afraid of him?" "Yes," sullenly; "1 told you last night hat I am afraid of him?the only nan I ever met " "The only one?" said Prier, quietly; the only man you ever met of whom ou are afraid? Are you sure of that?" "Weil, the only one except you." "Ah? You are afraid of me, then, re you?" "Yes, I am." "And perhaps you dislike me, too?" I (ion l Know yei. i u icu juu nucu do." "Will you? Thank you. Now do ou know where I can hire a goodized, thoroughly seaworthy fishing essel, crew and all. I want a good, omfortable cabin for myself, comfortble ciuarters for the crew, and I rant a captain and men who can be lepended upon in every respect. The essel must be a swift sailer, and?" "How swift?" queried Gullens. "Swift enough to outsail the Homerard Bound, if possible? Do you think ou can tell me >vhere I can find such . vessel?" "I think so. Are you going out to ea to try and find Mr. Jahnway?" "I am. Will you go with me? The rages will be good, and " "Will I go with you?" cried Gulens. springing forward and grasping tier's hand: "will I go with you? Inleed I will. And you asked me whethr I dislike you or not. I'll tell you low. I like you?I?I?I'll go through ? Ull'OUgn?uirougn pern<i.|>? jouu -ather not hear the word, but through i warmer place than there is in Maine uch a morning as this, for you." "All right." said Prier, smiling at the VIlow's enthusiastic extravagance of anguage, and pleased at the new manmud which seemed rising within him; all right. Now, when and how can ?>u find out about the vessel?" "Here, at Jahnway's Station. And low. I won't be gone an hour." And he hurried away. Prier stood on the platform, looking iway over the snowy fields, white and uire and glistening. He looked up the oad to where the rails seemed to meet n the distance and disappear?as Memories meet and fade in the past; lown the road to the converging of he rails?as hope finds a point beyond vhich the limitations of the human toul will not permit it to be seen. He was musing now, much as he lad mused last night when he wrote hat which occupied his last waking houghts. Carelessly and thoughtlessly ie took it from his pocket; heedlessly >e read it; absentmindedly he tore it into tiny fragments, tossed them from him, and the wintry winds scattered them beyond any hope of their ever being brought together again: "Gilbert Senn did not kill Constance Craig. In spite of circumstantial evidence, in all its strength?in spite of the new link in the chain which was placed in my hand by Matilda Webb when she was dying, Gilbert Senn is innocent. He carries truth and honesty in his face; I would stake my soul on his honor; it does not need the agreement of the anonymous letter with the confession Jahnway sent me, nor the i fact that neither is like the writing of I this ill-used man, to prove that Gilbert Senn is guiltless. "Walter Aldrlch did not kill Constance Craig. "Elsie Senn is innocent. "John Kane is guiltless. "Kurline Rannottie." To be Continued. dtttiscrlliutcous grading. FAIR EASTERN SMUGGLER. How a Turkish Woman Evaded the Customs Officers. Of course women are better smugglers than men, says the Westminster Gazette. Every custom house officer of the western world is well aware of that fact. Rut notwithstanding Pierre Loti's recent revelations as to the modernization of the Turkish harem and the revolt of its daughters, it seems strangely incongruous that the veiled ladies who flit in ghost like fashion about the streets of Constantinople should not only travel alone by train but defy the custom house officer with a brazenness that would do credit to a globe trotting woman of the north or west, Such, however, is the case, according to a lady correspondent who some time ago traveled in a ladies' carriage from Constantinople to Sofia in the company of a wealthy Turkish lady. By the help of a few French, Turkish and Greek phrases we began a queer sort of conversation, and my traveling companion explained that she was going on a visit to a married sister in Bulgaria. Perhaps in order to impress one with the idea of her wealth, she showed all manner of beautiful presents which she carried with her in various pieces of luggage. There were towels with wide embroidered borders, handkerchiefs with fine needlework corners and hems, veils and scarfs of eastern silk and ever so many other things, which I duly admired. Then she pointed to the enormous hassock under her feet. "Coffee," she said. There must have been twenty pounds in it. Knowing that the Bulgarian custom house officers keep their sharpest eye on coffee and cigarettes, and that we were rapidly nearing the frontier, I gave vent to my feelings by exclaiming: "But the custom house!" ..But my Turkish lady, with the characteristic movement of the head which with Orientals implies negation, clicked her tongue and said, "Non lie vient pas ici," obviously meaning the customs officers. At davdawn we reach Hermann, the frontier station. The officer came to our carriage, cast a glance into our compartment, saw the Turkish lady (who meanwhile had put her "feredshi" over her head) and disappeared at once, in deference to the Mohamme dan objection that a woman should be -seen by any man outside the harem. After a while an old woman appeared. "Hanum" (madam), she said, "the customs officer sends me to ask whether thou bast anything on which a duty should be paid?" "Say to the child of the desert." was the dignified reply, that I have nothing but the things 1 require. A little coffee for the journey." And she put down the front of her dainty little traveling coffee machine and a spirit lamp and began to prepare her breakfast, throwing as an afterthought a few coins and cigarettes at the oid woman's feet. With a blessing and a grin on her lips the crone left the carriage. The customs were passed, and I thought sadly of all sorts of beautiful things which I had not bought at the large bazaar at Constantinople for fear of the customs. GETTING THROUGH JAP LINES. Chinese Spy Carried a Message From One Russian General to Another. Chinese honesty is proverbial, but would seem to have its exceptions. The Rev. John H. K. De Forest of Auburndale, for thirty-five years resident in Japan and high in the confidence of Japanese statesmen and officials. told of an episode of which he had personal knowledge while with the army of Kuroki in Manchuria: "Some of the spies used by both sides during the war were Chinese," he said. "Complications not infrequently resulted. "Kuropatkin one day had a particularly important message to send to General Stoessel. To get through the Japanese lines seemed almost out of the question, but the Russian commander went to a Chinese famous for his skill and intrepidity. The old fellow didn't want to risk it, but Kuropatkin cajoled him to it. giving him $300 and promised him $200 when he returned. "When he reached the vicinity of the Japanese lines, with an intention that had evidently been with him from the start, he went straight to Kuroki. insisting that his business was very pressing. "He explained in full to Kuroki that the Russian general had given him a task which he could not perform because of the admirable disposition of the Japanese forces, that therefore he hah done tne next oesi thins and eome straight to the illustrious leader of the triumphant Japanese. "Ivuroki read the dispatch, gave it back to him. bade him go on to Stoessel with it and return with the answer to the Japanese camp, where he would receive $500 and be permitted to carry the answer on to Kuropatkin and collect his remaining $200. The Chinaman carried out his instructions in detail and collected for his exploit $1,000."?Boston Herald. ?*jr in Norway he who cuts down a tree must always plant three trees in its place. CALLAO, LIMA AND PERU. th< Th Information About the Country Vis- wa ited by the Battleship Fleet. vai In response to public interest and inquiries which are constantly coming an to the bureau about countries visited by tiie fleet, the director of the inter- ^ national bureau of the American Republics, John Barrett, has prepared the following data about Callao, the ^ pori, Lima, the capital city, and Peru , du; in general: Callao, v-here the American battle ^ fleet is now making its fourth stop in Its cruise around South America, is Jg one of the most Important ports on ler the Pacific side, and Is the great de- pe pot for the. commerce of Peru. It Is po second only to Valparaiso. Chili. 1.500 . miles to Ihe south. Approximately one-half of the foreign trade of Peru, ' which amounted last year to more than $50,000,000, passes in and out of Ac Caliao, making it a busy, active and Industrious city. Fully 1,000 vessels ^ put into the harbor every year, and twenty steamships, together with forty sailing crafts, may any day be seen j lying at anchor In the hay. . Caliao is one of the finest and safest . tru harbors on the Pacific, and the I'eruP0i vian government Is showing great ^ energy not only to make it modern, nQ) corjVenient and secure, but also to ^ equip the city itself with every neces- (^ siti for comfortable and hygienic llv- ^ ( ingj There are massive wharves at . the water's edge, protected by a pier ^ SOft feet long: this pier is connected t<i with the shore by a bridge, built on iron piles, 2.800 feet long. In the bay ^ is a floating dock which will admit vessels of twenty-one feet draught ^ and 5.000 tons weight. Steamships lie alongside the wharves and freight Is transhipped immediately into cars on tracks within a few feet of the water. The resemblance to a modern port like 1 Havre or Hook of Holland Is remark . . pla ably striking. ine macninery aooui there docks is chiefly electric, the pow- spa the er being drawn from streams only a .sor small distance hack in the mountains. A natural protection of the bay is * the Island of San Lorenzo, which shel- . ters the city from southwest storms. ,n Adjacent to San Lorenzo is the Palo- coi Th minos group, on which is a nowerful lighthouse, the light from which is visible for eighteen miles. Just re- wa cently erected Is a tower for wireless telegraphy, and communication by this hai means will soon be in operation all along the coast. Callao as a town is very old. its In foundation dating back to the year na 1537. The original site was destroy- acr ed bv an earthquake in 1746 and swal- s'u lowed up by the sen. The present city ns' vet retains some traces of its earlier history, in the narrow and irregular a I1 streets, but today it has grown away ^ from such conditions, and is modern fra in every sense of the word. The population numbers 32,000, although !n the 'ec daytime it would seem much larger, 171,1 because many men come here during wo business hours but return in the af- sca teTfcoon to their homes In Lima. p<^ Lima, the capital of Peru, is only P'? nine miles from Callao, and lies 500 vej feet higher, close against the foothills an( of the Andes. Two steam and one electric trolley lines connect the cap- ^OI ' * . ?^ XI sufc uai wun me port, ana mere is uesldes a fine avenue for carriages, so that the traveler can easily and quick- ma lv go from one city to the other at Ye any time. This is one of the most ro- car mantic spots of Spanish America, vy- on< ing with the City of Mexico in the in- on< terests which show the influence of Europe upon the newly discovered 1 America, but Limn is far more than mn a eitv of churches, plazas, monasteries anc and houses of grandees of Spain. ^rc Nevertheless, the impress of Pizarro 1110 ifei and the viceroys should not be forgotten, for Lima was at one time the Krr centre of government for all South 'n ' America, and her authority extended not from Panama to Buenos Ayres. Tt is a(^ one of the most beautiful cities of the western world, and enjoys a climate cot T it which, without exaggeration, can be called perpetual spring. Lima also has a new avenue. Co- thp lumbus avendia. nearly half a mile n01 long, at the end of which is the sta- s'n tue of Columbus, reproduced in the p J statue at the front of the Pe Lesseps *'n house at Colon, on the Tsthumus of aiu Panama. This is the fashionable thf drive and promenade of society. Oth- t>a er new streets testify to the rapid ad- ^or vance the city is making. Electric Sai * ab< n^nis, ironey I'ars, uuuiiuuni nuici and such public utilities are making c'u this city of ISO.000 inhabitants fully abf abreast of the times. Lima is the "ni seat of the oldest university in Amer- me ica. founded here in 1551. Not so pi sin very far from Lima as distances go in South America, are the battlefields of fen Junin and Ayaeucho. where. In 1824 was fought the final struggle by which ' , Spain lost forever her hold on this part of the world. is 1 Peru has great advantage over othclo er Republics of South America. She is a transcontinental country, having P&| a coast line on the Pacific of 1.600 a est miles, from which the whole world can be reached, yet one of the great commercial centres of Peru is Tquitos, ^ej an inland city on the Atlantic water- ? or shed. From Tquitos ocean steamers , ( pass 2.000 miles down the Amazon \ the through the Brazilian port of Manaos and proceed to New York or Europe. ere just as if they had come from a coast j ^ town on salt water. This is an advantage possessed by no other country except Columbia, which has ports on Pn^piKKaon / 4 find tllC the Pacific. Gre The variety of natural product? mo within Peru's confines adds greatly to her promise for future growth. Her wealth does not by any means depend an< upon minerals alone. She is a large I" sugar producer: her cotton is famous u'a for certain good qualities: she exports ?ov hides, coffee and rice; silver, petroleum and salt: guano is dug from its Pe'" beds, and the native rubber tracts un- ufa der cultivation are yielding riches to tee their possessors. PP" The government is today wide- s,a awake and ambitious. It encourages railroads, it invites foreign capital to invest money in well-secured enterprises, and has already entered upon ^ . a career of substantial industrial prosperity. Peru is a little less than fifteen times the size of New York ^ state. Her climate embraces every kind from the tropics to perpetual snows. There is no known plant or %Aanimal that will not grow here. The are most famous engineering structure in Fa the world, the Oroya railway, built by ott Henry Meigs, the American, runs from ea.< ? Pacific ocean across the Andes, e highest navigated body of fresh ter, I^ake Tlticaca, and the Harrd astronomical observatory, from lich the most accurate observations i taken from halfway up El Mlsti, ar Arequipa, are institutions of lich Peru is justly proud. Peru has a population approximat: 5,000,000. The country is there e not so sparsely settled as might imagined, and the people are instrious and home loving. The reblic comes within what may be led the canal belt, and when this finished, when rail communication established between the upper was of the Amazon and the Pacific, ru is sure to become one of the iverful factors in the life of South 1 erica. THE DYING EARTH. cording to This Theory the Deserts Are Spreading. Deserts already exist on the earth. i the nameless horror that attaches the word in the thoughts of all who ve had experience of them are glftwlth imagination to conceive Is In th greater than we commonly sup?e. For the cosmic circumstance jut them which is most terrible is t that deserts are but that deserts re begun to be. Not as local, cvlde evils are they only to be pictured L as the general unescapable death p on our world. For It is the beir.ing of the end. What depaupers the forests to grass lands and >nce to wastes must in turn attack s sea bottoms when they shall have rted with their seas. Last of the tile spots upon the planet because the salts the streams have for ages shed down and of the remnant of isture that would still drain Into m. eventually they must share the tune of their predecessors and ihe net roll a parched orb through ice. The picture is forbidding; but i fact seems one to which we are in ne sort already adventured, rirriling the earth with what it :es but little personification to liken the life extinguishing serpent's Is run two desert belts of country. r- ?mic i'miwnn, i"usmi> Tropic of Cancer, extending northrd from it; the other, the Tropic of prlcorn. Arizona Is in the northern *d. as are the Sahara. Arabia and deserts of central Asia. Cow. these desert belts are growing, the great desert of northern Arlzothe traveler, threading his way oss a sagebrush and cacti plain it in by abrupt sided shelves of land ng here and there some hundreds feet higher, suddenly comes upon etrifled forest. rrunks of trees in all stages of cture strew the ground over a ,ce of some miles in extent. So pert are their forms he is almost fided to think the usual wasteful od chopper has been by and left the ttered products of his art in litterconfusion upon the scene of his exit. Only their beautiful color con's a sense of strangeness to the eye, 1 leaning down and touching them finds that they are?stone. Chalcely. not carbon! Form has outlived stance and kept the resemblance, lie the particles of the original tter have all been spirited away, t so perfect is the presentment one i hardly believe the fact, and where ? fallen giant spans a little canon ? almost thinks to hear the sound water rushing down the creek, ^ut it is some millions of years and re since this catastrophe befell, 1 the torrent uprooting it left it ?ne, with limbs outstretched in fugrasp upon the other side. A con.. if ,..no nnnclr. nnlv in o, W.V, no >w today, and flourished probably the Cretaceous era. for the land has been under water here since the :ent of tertiary times. Nowhere nearMt, except for the rare tomvoods along the bank of the tie Colorado, grows anything loir. The land which once supported se forests is incompetent to do so iv. Yet nothing has changed there ce except the decreasing water sup. During tertiary and quaternary le the rainfall has been growing less 1 less. Proof of this is offered by > great pine oasis that caps the plau of which these petrified forests m a part and is kernelled by the l Francisco peaks. The height >ve sea level of the spot where the ilcedon.v trunks are strewn is ?ut 4.500 feet: the lower present lit of the pine in its full developnt is 6.500 feet. Two thousand feet ward the verdure line has retreated ce the former forests were. And other side of the plateau petrified aains of trees are similarly found, s is no local alteration, for upon I'he line of perpetual green has risen ause in desert regions the moisture round most plentiful nearest to the uds. from which it falls upon a ching earth. Streams instead of hering volume as they go are largnear their source, and grow less i 1 less with each fresh mile of flow, p brooks descending from the Antijanon, in Syria, water the gardens < Damascus, and, thence issuing upon *1 14..,.+ plain, lose ineiuseivtrn ju.n ucjumu threshold of its gates. So in the i zona desert, though in a less de- : e, and those who live there know i >ut too well.?Century. , ' Today there are fewer saloons in thirteen southern states than in i ater New York and only a few re than in the city of Chicago. In 1 iv York there are 30,000 places i ere liquor is sold, in Chicago 28,000 1 1 in the entire south only 29,000. New York state the estimated poption in 1905 was 8,160.000, and the ernment issued in the state that r 34.080 "special-tax stamps" to sons desiring to engage in the mancture and sale of liquor. The thirn southern states, with 23.500,000 >I?Ie, secured in 1906 less than 30,000 nips. ? The highest clouds reach ten les above our heads. They are the ite, feathery forms which we see a clear day. Although apparently lion I ess, they travel from seventy? to ninety miles an hour. " Diamonds, pearls and turquoises ; the precious stones best imitated, lse rubies and sapphires, on the ler hand, may be detected with se. CABIN BOYS AND KING OSCAR. Senator Perkins's Adventure When a Youth In Swedish Royal Garden. It is not often two boys before the ; mast enjoy an audience with a crown- > ed head, but that was the experience of United Slates Senator George Clement , Perkins of California and a "squarehead" shipmate In the days of their , youth. Perkins was born and raised , in the quaint town of Kennebunkport, Me., in the old times one of the great shipping points of the Pine Tree State. The roving blood of generations of ancestors caused him to take "French , ItJtiYt? Ill HUIIlt? aiiu JOH1 H. 111CI UIItLU lman which was bound for foreign parts. At thp time Perkins was only 14 years of age, and he shared the hard work of cleaning up the cabin and the foc'slc and doing other odd jobs with a , 16-year-old youngster named Sandy. The vessel put in at Stockholm, Swe- , den, and the two boys were granted | shore leave. They wandered around the city looking with goggle eyes at the strange sights and finally came to a garden which surrounded an imposing mansion. The youngsters sneaked over the fence and walked about the grounds. ( Their promenade was Interrupted by a benign looking middle aged man who asked them in English how they had , entered and appeared to take the greatest Interest in their adventure. While the three were chattering several soldiers dashed up and seized the boys. They addressed the man with great respect and released the Youngsters when he told them to do so. A ( few more minutes were spent in the company of their protector and then the soldiers escorted the trespassers to the gate. "Do you know with whom you were talking?" the boys were asked. And , their questioner, without giving them an opportunity to respond, answered himself: "It was the king." The good ship took Perkins to California. where by industry and honesty he acquired a fortune. In 1879 he was , inaugurated governor of the state. , While serving in this capacity he vis- | ited tlie yacht of a millionaire friend. , As he boarded the vessel an old salt ( who was colling a rope straightened up and ejacqlted: "Well, by the great horn spoon, If that ain't George Perkins!" The governor Immediately recognized 1 his old shipmate Sandy. From that time, almost a quarter of a century ago, the latter has frequently profited by the bounty of his boyhood friend. The | senator says he frequently finds Sandy a nuisance, but he cannot forget their j cruise of long ago or fail to speculate on what the cabin boy might have become had he not taken to drink.? ( Washington Cor. Chicago Tribune. THE CLEARING HOUSE. ( Its Genesis and Manner of Settling I Balances Among Banks. I In its primary and simplest form, the i form in which the fathers of the clear- < Ing house system knew it, a clearing ' house is merely a centrally located place where checks, drafts, bills, notes, ' or other kinds of credit Instruments 1 coming into the possession of the banks are brought to be exchanged for ] their equivalent In other similar credit ] Instruments or for cash. Just as in 1 the old original "Kxcnange," wnere merchants met to buy and sell commodities, so do the banks through clerks meet the exchange checks or money for other checks or obligations they owe or owed. To Illustrate we must compare the old system of exchanging claims against the respective banks with that now in vogue in nearly all the cities of the world having any pretension to financial importance. Under the old system a porter chosen for his strength perhaps as much as for his known honesty took all the checks upon other banks that came into his own bank's possession and went the rounds from bank to bank collecting his claims in the form of cash, whether bank bills or gold. The result was the carrying of large sums of money through the streets, with the consequent danger of loss by robbery or carelessness. As the banks increased in number an informal meeting of the porters at one central point to exchange checks for cash was a natural evolution. This, however, was cumbersome and oftentimes unsatisfactory because of the lack of knowledge in advance of the claim that would be presented and of the sunls necessary to meet them. Finally the banks tool: cognizance of the necessities of the case and arranged for a central place of exchange, with a manager and clerk? to supervise and conduct the exchanges. This was the genesis of the clearing house as it exists today, and it may be said also that a great many clearing houses are today merely places of exchange for items held by banks against other banks. 1 As to the nresent method of clearing 1 at. say. any of the larger clearing < houses, the system in vogue at the New 1 York Clearing House may be cited as exemplifying the modern plan of action. Two clerks come from each bank that is a member of the clearing house 1 each business day at 9.30. Exchanges are made at 10 a. m. Each bank has a desk assigned it, behind which sits S one of the clerks, prepared to receive e checks or other claims against his ? bank. The other, or delivery clerk, has ? a hag filled with checks against other ? banks. At the stroke of a bell the line < of delivery clerks moves slowly down ( and around the room, stopping at each ' other bank desk in turn, laying down t the respective bundle of checks, get- ' ting receipts therefor, and passing on 1 until they have made the round of all ? the bank desks and return to their own ? desks. When the delivery clerk-re- 1 turns to his own desk he finds It piled . high with checks left by other delivery i clerks. After comparing the totals of ^ these checks with his fellow clerks' list he takes them to his bank. The clerk , temaining adds his totals of checks re- t reived front other banks and compares ' it with his original list of checks , against other banks which he made up j before he left his own bank. The difference between his two totals of checks 1 for and against his own bank is the , amount of balance his bank owes or < is owed. If his bank owes more than he receives from the other banks he fills out a debit slip and hands it to the ( manager. If the total he receives Is < less than what he has brought from his ' bank he fills out a credit slip. . "lne imng Wiu.1 impresses yuu inu^i Is the awful stillness. The slightest sound seems like a cannon shot. You get to talking to yourself, asking and answering questions and lots of things which you would not think of doing down here, or If you did they would be having a medical commission sitting on you as a candidate for the dippy house. About all you think of Is bow to get enough to eat, for your appetite increases as the supply of food grows less. We got Into that condition finally when it was get something or begin to eat out boots. "One morning my Indian came In with a grin on his face. Now, an Indian up there never smiles. In wrestling with that frozen north they seem to get sour and sullen. This made me more surprised when the Indian came Into the shack beaming. Well, what Is It?' I Inquired. " 'Moose, big moose,' was the reply. Went by this morning; catch 'em maybe.' "That was enough for a hungry man. [ went out and there were the footprints of a big moose who had gone by, as the Indian said, about three bours before. I got into my coat, strapped on my snowshoes, took my rifle and we started after Mr. Moose. We went about ten miles before we saw him. He was on a hill side browsing on the twigs. It was a long shot. but I raised my rifle, when the Indian touched my arm saying 'no shoot.' "I hesitated, but he Insisted, saying no shoot now, bimeby maybe. By that time the moose had sighted us and started off at a rate which took him jut of sight in a few minutes. We were twenty miles further on when we saw him again and were near enough to try to shoot, but my Indian insisted I must not. Well, we followed that moose three day?. The big fellow tired at last and started back the way lie came, we following. Then we came jp with him only a short distance from the shack. 'Now shoot,' said the InJian. I fired and the moose dropped. "When it was all over and we had neat in plenty und the big hide stretched before the blazing fire in f the shack I said to my Indian, 'Why Jidn't you want me to shoot that noose at first when he was not so worn down as he was after that long ;hase?' " 'Lose heap fun,' was the reply. tVell, do you know when I came to study over it I began to see his point )f view. It was not so much the killng as it was the chase which to him ,vas interesting, and he was willing to ravel over forty or fifty miles just ' - > ? *?'1 ' f Ua m/kWA T f liAilffhf ,Wl lilt" IIUIIl, ailU IIIC 11 ivy 1 C JL lllVMgllV )f it the more I agreed with him. I lad been growing ugly and nervous nyself before, but after that long hase I was another man."?Milwautee Sentinel. STYRIAN ARSENIC EATERS. They Rely Upon the Drug Both For Beauty and Strength. "Eating of arsenic is common in 5tyrla," said Alois E. Steinzierl, of VImna, Austria, to a Washington Herild reporter. "The Styrlans say that irsenic makes one plump and comely ind gives one strength for great ex;rtions, such as running or mountain dimbing. Styria, which is in Austria, fives the world vast quantities of arsenic. The manufacture of this drug s. Indeed the main Styrian industry, rhey who make arsenic eat it, as a *ule, for they say that only the arsetic eater can withstand arsenic fumes, rhese makers and eaters of the drug ire comely. They have a clear qolor md look much younger than they are. "The foreman in a certain factory :old me that in his boyhood, when he irst came to that plant, he was advised to begin to eat arsenic, lest his lealth sutYer from the fumes. He did aegin, and his first two or three doses ?ave him a sharp pain, like a burn in :he stomach, and this pain was followed by tremendous hunger and a /iolent disagreeable excitement. But as his doses increased in frequency and size their effect became pleasant. There was no longer pain or excitement. On the contrary, there was a ravenous appetite and a mood of joyaus activity wherein the youth could io three men's work. "This chap, by the time he got to be 30, was taking four grains of arsenic a day. He looked at 30, with his ulear pink and white color, no more than 23. He was as robust as a blacksmith. But he said he would die at 15 or so, that being the age at which all the Styrian arsenic eaters die." The clerks of the clearing house have a. memorandum of what he brought and what he received, and, footing them up, the manager knows what each bank owes and what It should receive. The totals of what Is owed by all of the banks are the clearings, and the differences then are alone to be settled for. Usually the clearing house sheets are finished and proved by 10.45 a. m., and fines are levied for any mistakes made in footings. From 12.30 to 1.30 the banks settle for balances they owe at the clearing house. Shortly after 1.30 the clerks whose banks are owed sums collect and return to their banks. Differences due are paid, If the sums are large, in certificates representing gold deposited in the vaults of the clearing house. Small iidmiius uiu ncuifu ill iiinin. in nun, icgal tenders and silver or copper coins. All balances due at the New York Clearing House are, therefore, settled In cash. Other clearing houses throughout the country pursue very much the same plan, some of them paying balances In cash or its equivalent, some giving New York exchange, and some cashiers' checks, which are later presented at the banks Issuing them or are passed through the Clearing House the next day. and others still have a varleey of ways satisfactory to themselves for settling the differences. There are fully llli clearing houses in this country and Canada reporting the total of their exchanges each week and month, and, representing as they do the payments on account of all kinds of financial transactions going on all over the two countries each day, week, month and year, they constitute a statistical measure of the business of these countries which is In a high degree valuable.?Frank Greene In Review of Reviews. WHEN TO SHOOT A M008E. Hunter's Cure For the Blues In the Canadian Wilderness. "Did you ever spend the winter in the woods up in Canada cruising for timber?" said H. N. Brown. "Do you know it Is a curious feeling being out there alone, or with Just an Indian guide.