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SIX i???????n mi imi <! i The Mlon D HAROLD ? Illustrated from Scenes i Same Is ante by the Tha nw?wniw m tt??wi j???> >?awwnccr (Copyright, IW14, bj (Tin's, {? " fourth episode of this in foresting serial story, will be shown in motion pictures at the Casino Theatre tonight.) CHAPTER IV. The Flat on the Top Floor. Braine crawled from hie uncomfortable hiding place. His clothes were soiled and damp, his hat gone. By a hair's breadth he had escaped the clever trap laid for him. Hargreave was alive, he had escaped; Braine was as certain of this fact as he was of hie own breathing. He now knew how to account for the flickering light In the upper stcry of the warehouse His ancient enemy had been watch !ng him all the time. More than this, Hargreave and the meddling reporter were in collusion. In the flare of lights at the end of the gun-play he had caught the profile of the reporter. Here was a dangerous man, who must be watched with the utmost care. He, Braine, had been lured to com mit an overt act. and by the rarest good luck had escaped with nothing ; more serious than a cold chill and a galling disappointment. He crawled along the top of the pier, listening, sending his dark-accus- , toined glance hither and thither. The , eky in the east wub growing paler and paler. In and out among the bales of wool, bags of coffee and lemon crates he slowly and cautiously j wormed his way. A watchman patrolled the office side of the ware- i house, and Braine found it possible i to creep around the other way. thence into the street. After that he straight- | ened up, sought a second-hand shop and purchased a soft hat, which he pulled down over his eyes. He had half a dozen rooms which he always kept in readiness for such adventures as this. He rented them furnished in small hotels which never asked questions of their patrons. To one of these he went as fast as his weary legs could carry him. He always carried the key. Once in his room he donned fresh wearing apparel, linen, shoes, and shaved. Then he proceeded downstairs, the secondhand hat shading his eyes and the upper part of his face. At half past twelve Norton entered the Knickerbocker cafe-restaurant, and the lirst person he noticed was Braine, reading the morning's paper, propped up against the water carafe. Evidently he had just ordered, for there was nothing on his plate. Norton walked over and laid his hand upon Braine's shoulder. The man looked up with mild curiosity. "Why, Norton, sit down, sit down! Have you had lunch? No? Join me." "Thanks. Came in for my breakfast," said Norton, drawing out the chair. Draine was sitting with his back to the wall on the lounge-seat. "I wonder if you newspaper men ever eat a real, true enough breakfast. I should think the hours you lead would kill you off. Anything new on the Hargreave story?" "I'm not handling that," the reporter lied cheerfully. "Didn't want to. I knew him rather intimately. I've a horror of dead people, and don't want to be called upon to identify the body when they find it." "Then you think they will find it?" "1 don't know. It's a strange mixup. I'm not on the story, mind you; but 1 was in the locality of Duffy's warehouse late last night and fell into a gunman rumpus." "Yes, 1 read about that. What were they after?" "You've got me there. No one seems to know. Some cock and bull storv about there being something valuable. There was." "What was it? The report in this paper does not say." "Ten thousand bncn nf nnffno ?? Ilraine lay back in his chair and laughed. Vr'lf you want my opinion," said Norton, "I believe the gunmen were out to shoot up another gang, and the police got wind of it," "Don't you think it about time the police called a halt in this gunman matter?" "Oh, so long as they pot each other the police look the other way. It saves a long trial and passage up the river. Mesides, whenever they are nabbed some big politician manages to open the door for them. Great is the American voter." "Take Mr. Norton's order, Luigi," said Hraine. "A German pancake, buttered toast and coffee," ordered the reporter. "Man, eat something!" "It's enough for me." "And you'll go all the rest of the day on tobacco. I know something of you chaps. I don't see how you manage to do it." "Food Is the least of our troubles. My the way, may I ask you a few questions? Nothing for print, unless (Mystery MAC GRATH i I I I I I rt the Photo Drama of the nhouser Film Company * wr*"' .-.nai c?win?n Liurold MacUrath) Toiwe got a new book coming." "Fire away." "What do you know about the Princess Perigoff?" "L,et me see. H'm. Met her first about a year ago at a reception given to Nasimova. A very attractive woman. I see quite a lot of her. Why?" i "Well, she claims to be a sort of ' aunt to Hargreave's daughter." "She said something to me about that the other night. You never know where you're at in this world, do you ?" The German pancake, the toast, the 1 coffee disappeared, and the reporter 1 passed his cigars. "The president visits town today ' and I'm off to watch the show. I sup- ( pose I'll have to interview him about ! 1 the tariff and all that rot. When you start on a new book let me know and 1 I'll be your press agent." i 1 "That's a bargain." * "Thanks for the breakfast." | 1 1 ? online picueu up nis newspaper, 1 smoked and read. He smoked, yes, but he only pretended to read. The f young fool was clever, but no man 1 Is infallible. He had not the least E suspicion; he saw only the newspaper 1 story. Still, in some manner he s might stumble upon the truth, and r it would be just as well to tie the * reporter's hands effectually. Tho ranCOf Pnrjv mnrnlnc hnrt ? "v- "*"vu4 v r> been subdued; anger and quick tem- * per never paid in the long run, and no r one appreciated this fact better than c Braine. To put Norton out of the 0 way temporarily was only a wise pre- r caution; it was not a matter of spite * or reprisal. ! ^ I He paid the reckoning, left the res- ( taurant, and dropped into one of his ^ clubs for a game of billiards. He ^ drew <iiiite a gallery about the table. He won easily, racked his cue and sought the apartments of the princess. { What a piece of luck it was that . Olga had really married that old do- ^ tard, Perigofl! He had left her a ( titled widow six months after her marriage. But she had had hardly a ko- , peck to call her own. "Olga, llargreave is alive. He was j . ttyere last night. But somehow he anticipated the raid and had the police in waiting. The question is, has he fooled us? Did he take that mil- , ] lion or did he hide it? There is one ( thing left?to get that girl. No mat, tor where llargreave is hidden, the knowledge that she is in my hands will bring him out into the open." "Xo more Wind alleys." "What's oji your mind?" "She has never seen her father. She confessed to nie that she has not even seen a photograph of him." There was a long pause. "Do you understand me?" she asked. "By the Lord Harry, I do! You've a head on you worth two of mine. The very simplicity of the idea will _ || Attempt to Rob the Duffy Warehouse. I win out for us. Some one to pose as ; her father; a message handed to heri in secret; dire misfortune if she whis-! pers a word to anyone; that her fa-' tiler's life hangs upon the secrecy; I she must confide in 110 one, least of all Jones, the butler. It all, depends upon how the letter gets to her. Bred in the country, she probably sleeps with her window open. A pebble attached to a note, tossed into the window. I'll trust this to 110 one; I'll do it myself. With the girl in our control the rest will be easy. If sho rpnll V tint uiliftna ? mvvo uww nugio U1D liiuiltzjr is Hargreavo will toll us. Great head, little woman, great head. She does not know her father's handwriting?" "She has never seen a scrap of it. All that Miss Farlow ever received was money. The original note left on the doorstep with Florence has been lost. Trust me to make all these inquiries." I "Tomorrow right,, then, iinmedl-1 i THE HORRY HER, ately after dinner, a taxicab wi. await her just around the corner Grange is the best man I can thini" of. He's an artist when it comes tv playing the old-man parts?." . "Not too old, remember. Hargreave isn't over forty-live." "Another good point. I'm going to stretch out here on the divan an ' snooze for a while. Had a devil of a time last night." "When shall I wake you?" "At six. We'll have an early dinner sent in. 1 want to keep out of everybody's way. By-by!" In less than three minutes he was sound asleep. The woman gazed down at him in wonder and envy. If only she could drop to sleep like that. Very softly she pressed her lips to his hair. At eleven o'clock the following night the hall light in the Hargreave house was turned off and the whole interior became dark. A shadow crept through the lilac bushes without any more sound that a cat would have made. Florence's window was open, as the arch-conspirator had expected it would be. With a small string and stone as a sling he sent the letter whirling skillfully through the air. It sailed into the girl's room. The man below heard no sound of the atone hitting anything and concluded that it had struck the bed. He watted patiently. Presently a wavering light could be distinguished 3ver the sill of the window. The girl wae awake and had lit the candle, rhis knowledge was sufficient for his leed. The tragic letter would do the -est, that is, if the girl came from he same pattern as her father and mother?strong willed and adventurous. He tiptoed back to the lilacs, when i noise sent him close to the ground. Talf a dozen feet away he saw a shadow creeping along toward the ront door. Presently the shadow stood up as if listening. He stooped igain and ran lightly to the steps, up hese to the door, which he hugged. Who was this? wondered Braine. hitientlv he waited, arranging his posure so that he could keep a lookout it the door. By and by the door >pened cautiously. A man holding l candle appeared. Braine vaguely ecognized Olga's description of the mtler. The man on the veranda sudlenly blew out the light. Rraine could hear the low murmur if voider., but nothing more. The conversation lasted scarcely a minute. I'he door closed and the man rnr sue was going to save tier rauier. She read with Susan, played the liano, sewed a little. laughed, hummed '.iici did a thousand and one things .'oung girls do when they have the reception of their elders in view. All day long Jones went about like .11 old hound with his nose to the j vind. There was something in the ! air, but he could not tell what it was. Jomehow or other, 110 matter which room Florence went into, there was Tones within earshot. And she dared not show the least Impatience or resLi veness. It was a large order for so oung a girl, but she filled it. She rather expected that the reporter would appear some time during the afternoon; and sure enough he iid. He could no more resist the desire to see and talk to her than he L^ould resist breathing. There was no She Tried the Doors. They Were Locked. use denying it; the world had suddenly turned at a new angle, presenting a new face, a roseate vision. It rather subdued his easy banter. "What news?" she asked. "None," rather despondingly. "I'm sorry. I had hoped by this time to get somewhere. But it happens that I can't get any further than this house." ' She did not ask him what he meant by that. "Shall I play something for you?" she said. "Please." He drew a chair beside the piano and watched her fingers, white as tho ivory keys, flutter up and down the board. She played Chopin for him, Mendelssohn, Grieg and Chaminnde; and she played them in a surprisingly scholarly fashion. He had expected the usual -schoolgirl choice and execution; "Titania," the "Moonlight Sonata" (which not half a dozen great drv.irt* nave evr r played correctly), "Monastery Polls" and the like. He [\i\d prepared to make a martyr of fVLD, CONWAY, S. O. | down the stepe, across the lawn, with Braine close at hl8 heels. "Just a noment, Mr. Hargrea.e,' he called ironically; "just a moment! The man he addressed as Hargreave turned with lightning rapidity and struck. The blow caught Brain*' above the ear, knocking him tla When he regained his feet the rumb! of a motor told him the rest of the story. By the dim light of her bedroom candle Florence read the note which had found entrance so strangely and mysteriously into her room. Her father! He lived, he needed her! Alive but in dread peril, and only she could save him! She longed to fly to him at once, then and there. How could she wait till tomorrow night at eight? Immediately she began to plan how to circumvent the watchful Jones and the careful Susan. Her father! She slept 110 more that night. "My Darling Daughter: I must see you. Come at eight o'clock tomorrow night to 78 Grove street, third floor. Confide in no one, or you seal my death warrant. "Your unhappy FATHER." What child would refuse to obey a summons like thia? A light tap on the door started her. "Is anything the matter?'* asked the mild voice of Jones. "No. I got up to get a drink of water." She heard his footsteps die away down the corridor. She thrust the letter into the pocket of her dress, which lay neatly folded 011 the chair at the foot of the bed, then climbed back into the bed itself. She must not tell even Mr. Norton. Was the child spinning a romance over the first young man she had ever met? In her heart of hearts the girl did not know. Her father! It was all so terribly and tragically simple, to match a woman's mind Afrninst thnt of o xT^~ and the sober Jones had explicitly warned her never to go anywhere, receive telephone calls or letters, without first consulting one or the other of them. And now she had planned to deceive them, with all the cunning of her sex. The next morning at breakfast there was nothing unusual either in her appearance or manners. Under the hrewd scrutiny of Jones she was just her everyday self, a fine bit of acting Cor ono who had yet to see the stage. Hut it is born in woman to act, as it is born in man to fight, and Flornce was no exception to the rule. lireself; Instead, he was distinctV and delightfully entertained. "You don't," he said whimsically when she finally stopped, "you don't, by any chance, know 'The Maiden's Prayer'?" She laughed. This piece was a standing joke at school. "I hsiVP novor nlovorl if Tf ? w *4v ? vt j/mj vu ib. J V i however, be in the music cabinet. Would you like to hear it?" mischievously. "Heaven forfend!" he murmured, raising his hands. All the while the letter burner against her heart, and the smile on her face and the gayety on her tongue were forced. "Confide in no one," she repeated mentally, "or you seal my death warrant." "Why do you shake your head like that?" he asked. "Did I shake my head?" Her heart fluttered wildly. "I was not conscious of it." "Are you going to keep your promise?" "What promise?" "Never to leave this house without Jones or myself being with you." "I couldn't if I wanted to. I'll wager Jones is out there in the hal) f Vl 1 o m Innfo T lrn/vttf H 11 ' in io jiiuiuic. a nnwn , 11 in (til 11)1 my sake. But it bol'here me." Jones was indeed in the hall, and when he sensed the petulance in her voice his shoulders sank despondently and he sighed deeply if silently. At a quarter to eight Florence, being alone for a minute, set lire to a veil arid stuffed it down the register. "Jones," she called excitedly, "I smell something burning!" Jones dashed into the room, sniffed, and drished out again, heading for the cellar door. His first thought was naturally that the devils incarnate had set fire to the house. When he returned, having, of course, discovered no fire, l e found Florence gone. He rushed into the hall. Her hat was missing. He made for the hall door with n (tltnorl \vhtr?h conmod ln/ii?n(llK1fl - wX.v.v?? .. uwyinovi UlVyl tVI I m ^ to the bewildered Susan's eyes. Out into the street, up and down which he looked. Far away he discovered n dwindling taxicab. The .child was gone. In the house Susan was answering the telephone, talking incoherently. "Who is it?" Jones whispered, his lips white and dry. "The princess. . . ." began Susan. He took the receiver from her roughly. "Hello, who is it?" "This is Olga Perigoff. Is Florence there?" "No, madam. She has just stepped out for a moment. Shall I tell her to cn 11 you when she returns?" "Yes, please. I want her and Susan and Mr. Norton to come to tea tomorrow. Oood-by." Jones hung up the receiver, sank into a chair near by and burled his face in his hands. "What is it?" cried Susan, terrified by the haggardness of his face. "She's gone! My Clod, thoso wretches have got her! They've got her!" Florence was whirled away at top speed. Her father! She was actually on the way to her father, whom she had always loved In dreams, yet never Been. . Number 78 Grove street was not an attractive place, but when she arrived she was too highly keyed to take note of its sordidness. She was rather out of breath when she reached the door of the third flat. She knocked timidly. The door was Instantly opened by a man who wore a black mask. She would have turned then and there and flown but for the swift picture she had of a well-dressed man at a table. He lay with his head upon ui- ? ? ins anus. "Father!" she whispered. The man raised his careworn face, so very well done that only the closest scrutiny would have betrayed the paste of the theater. He arose and staggered toward her with outstretched arms. But the moment they closed about her Florence experienced a peculiar shiver. "My child!" mui*nured the broken man. "They caught me when I was about to come to you. 1 have given up the fight." A sob choked him. What was it? wondered the child, her heart burning with the misery of the thought that she was sad instead of glad. Over his shoulder she sent a glance about the room. There was a sofa, a table, some chairs and an enormous clock, the face of which was dented and the hands hopelessly tangled. Why, at such a moment, she should note such details disturbed her. Then she chafed to look into the cracked mirror. In it she saw several faces, all masked. Thr?s? m*?n were peering at her through the halfclosed door behind her. "You must return home and bring me the money," went on the wretch who dared to perpetrate such a mockery. "It is all that stands between me and death." Then she knew! The insistent daily warnings came home to her. She understood now. She had deliberately walked into the spider's net. But instead of terror an extraordinary calm fell upon her. "Very well, father, I will go and get It." Gently she released herself from those horrible arms. "Wait, my child, till I see if they will let you go. They may wish to hold you as hostage." w nen ne was gone slie tried the doors. They were locked. Then she crossed over to the window and looked out. A leap from there would kill her. She turned her gaze toward the lamp, wondering. The false father returned, dejectedly. "It is as I said. They insist upon sending some one. Write down the directions I gave to you. 1 am very weak!" "Write down the directions yourself, father; you know them better than I." Since she saw no escape, she was determined to keep up the tragic farce no longer. "I am not your father." "So I see," she replied, still with the amazing calm. Braine, in the other room, shook his head savagely. Father and daughter; the same steel in the nerves. Could they bend her? Would they break her? He did not wish to injure her bodily, but a million was always a million, and there was revenge which was worth more to him than the money itself. He.listened, motioning to the others to be silent. "Write file rlireoHnna " rnmmnnflnd the scoundrel, who discarded the broken man style. "I know of no hidden money." "Then your father dies this night. Grange put a whistle to his lips. "Sign, write!" "1 refuse!" "Once more. The moment I blow thie whistle the men in the other "She Has Thrown Herself Out of the Wlndowl" room will understand that your father is to die. Be wise. Money is nothing?life is everything." "I refuse!" Even as she had known this vile creature to be an impostor so she knew that he lied, that her father was still free. Grange blew the whistle. Instantly the room became filled with masked men. But Florence was ready. Sho I seized the lamp and hurled It to the 1 floor, quite indifferent whether it exploded or went out. ITappily for her, V s . , , | It wa8 extinguished. At the same moment she cast the lamp she caught hold of a chair, remembering the di* rectlon of the window. She was superhumanly strong in this moment. The chair went true. A crash followed. "She has thrown herself out of tho window!" yelled a voice. Some one groped for tho lamp, lit u 1 1 li, anu turned in time to see Florence pass out of the room into that from which they had como. The door slammed. The surprised men heard ^ the key click. She was free. But she was no longer a child. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK How to Get Rid of Flees. / Wc arc havir.g a pest of flees and the poor children keep saying, Fleas cat me up, mama' Can you tell me f what to do?" Poor little youngsters! Fleas are indeed a miserable nuisance and nothing but continued vigilance is ever going to get rid of them, Since you have hauled a'l litter away from the house you will simply have to try y< ting the flee eggs that are in the various cracks and crevices cleaned out I think I should begin by putting slats or something around the house so tiienothing could get under there, as that is an excellent place for breeding them. Then I should buy half a doz- ^ en cans of lye, put some in a tea kettle every once in a while and scald out * every place in which animals lie down. 1 should clean the chicken house well, and every week or so I would pour' boiling water with lye or strong soap suds in it over kitchen and porcii floors, scrubbing it well into the cracks with a broom. I know 1 am suggesting a great deal of work for you, but it is the only thing von can do to <rot rid of them. The liberal use of gasoline or kerosene down cracks or where dogs and * cats lie will kill the eggs, but, of course, one must he very careful in using these, as they are very inflammable. Very often flees get around the edges of carpets, in which case gasoline is the only thing that will reach them. In bathing the dogs use creolin wash, about four teaspoonfuls 10 a ^ quart of water, and for rnft u* much. If the flees bother you in the bedroom put a piece of sticky fly paper under the bed with a piece of fresh meat in the center. As the floes jump for the meat they get in the fly paper. It is told that a great many of them were caught in a room in which the^ breeding places could not be reached by a man tying a piece of sticky fly paper around his ankles and walking about in the infested room for several hours. So many fleas jumped on the ankles and were caught by the fly paper that the supply was kept down. If you have a hand pump for spraying the garden and keeping mites and lice out of the chicken house, it is a good pla nto put kerosene emulsion in it and sprinkle all under the house, in all cracks, or in any place else the flea eggs might be deposited. I hope your pig pen and chicken houses are some distance from the house.?Progressive Farmer. o > [""attention ii \ Mr. Stock Owner! , We carry in stock all the following A I Boyd's Remedie|^H which arc guaranteed to do work claimed for them or chase price will be refunded. 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