Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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~ "r:ri j The Pc*! ! of Flame j ^^ i ? A\ l; J J ?> j | LOUIS JOSEPH VAyCE j . | | Illustrations Vv TI ' -.rvor'h Young I I. i ?r " ass*:-~ ? ' Cop^r .... - .... SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.?The story opens a Mor.te Carlo with Col. Terence O'Rourki In his hotel.' O'Rourke. a military frei lance and something of a gambler 1; dressing for appearance In the rostauran below when th<- sound of a girlish void singing attracts his attention. Leanini out on the balcony he sees a beautifu girl who suddenly disappears. He rush# to the corridor to see a neatly gownei form enter the elevator and pass fron toKt ' CHAPTER II.?O'Rourke's mind ! filled with thoughts of the girl, and wiiei * "* * V-i c. nllnu'c Vi I lie Kuea ikj lue gaiuiii^ HWJC remarkable winnings to accumulate in differently. He notices two men watch lng him. One is the Hon. Bertie Glynr while his companion is Viscount De Trebes. a noted duelist. When O'Rourk leaves the table the viscount tells him h represents the French government an that he has been directed to O'Rourke a a man who would undertake a secre . mission. CHAPTER TIT.?At his room O'Rourk* who had agreed to undertake the mlsslor awaits the viscount. O'Rourke finds mysterious letter In his apartment. Th viscount arrives, hands a sealed packag to O'Rourke. who is not to open it untl on the ocean. He says the French gov ernment will pay O'Rourke 25.000 franc for his services. A pair of dainty slip pers are seen protruding from under doorway curtain and the viscount charge ^ O'Rourke with having a spy secrete there. CHAPTER IV. * It would be difficult to designate pr< clsely just what O'Rourke thought t discover, when after a punctilious r< turn of Captain von Elnem's salute, h reopened his door and, closing It qulcl ly as he entered, turned the key in th lock. ,Hls mood was exalted, his lmagini tlon excited; the swift succession ( events which had made memorable th V-w 1 I I III - , _J .. FItm "Monsieur, Your Nose Annoys Mel night, culminating with his open li Titation to a challenge from the moi desperate duelist in Europe, had li spired a volatile vivacity such as n< ?von tho oyHtumont nf th? Pasinn ha been potent to create In him. Of a mad conjectures imaginable the ma< dest was too weird for him to credit i bis humor of that hour. Eliminatin all else that had happened, in th <ourse of that short evening, his heai bad been stirred, his emotions play upon by a recrudesence of a passfo which be had striven with a!! hi strength to put behind him for a ri axhe had first heard the voice of the on woman to whom his love and faith an honor were irretrievably pledged, h had then seen her (or another who n markably resembled her) for the scan lest of instants; and finally he ha mysteriously received a letter whic could, he Relieved, have been conve: ed to him by no other hand but heri And now he was persuaded beyond doubt that the person of the alcovi the eavesdropper for whose fair reput he had Qhosen to risk his life, was n< oody in the world but that same on 1 woman. But more than all else, perhaps, h expected and feared to find the rooi deserted; for the balcony outside th windows afTorded a means of escap too facile to be neglected by one wh wished not to be discovered. . . nre nrsi aenuue impression was i consternation and despair; for th lights had been shut off in his al sence. Then quickly he discernei with eyes dazed by the change froi the lighted hallway to the lightles chamber, the shadowy shape of a won an, motionless between him and th windows, waiting; . . . An electric switch was at his e bow. With a single motion he coul have drenched the place with ligh For an instant tempted, some Strang scruple of delicacy, abetted it may b by his native love of romantic myster: Stayed his hand. "Madame," said he, "or mademo selle| whichever ye may be?the wli dows are open, meself's not detainin ye. If ye choose, ye may go; bu ye'd favor me by going quickly. . . I give ye," he continued, seeing ths she neither moved nor replied, "thi ' .one chance.) In thirty seconds I tur on the lights." The woman did not stir; but h? thought he could detect in the stillness her quickened breathing. "What ye've taken," he amended, "I'd thank ye to leave as ye go?if ye came to steal. 'Tis little I have tc los e. . . .!' There was no answer. He touched the switch with an Impatient hand, stepped forward a single pace, caught hinise'f up and stopped short, now pale and trembling who had ! a moment gone been flushed with : calm. "Beatrix!" he cried thickly. Dumbly his wife lifted her "rms and offered herself to him. ur .iterably lovely, unspeakably radiant. . . . It were worse than a waste of time to attempt a portrait of her as she J seemed to him. Seen through her husj ! band's eyes, her beauty was incomparable. immaculate, too rare and fine, too delicate a thing to be bodied forth in words, dependent upon the perfection of no single feature. Not in her hair, t jair as suniigoi on me sea. not in ner t eyes of autumnal brown, not in the ? wonderful fineness of her skin or in t the daintiness of her features, not in | the graciousness of her body, did he ' : find the beauty of her that surpassed I expression, but in the love she bore |? \ him, in the sweetness of her inviolate I soul, in the steadfastness of her ira* pregnable heart. . . . * But it's doubtful if ever he had anl I alyzed his passion for her so minutei, j ly. Mostly, I think, at that moment of * i her abrupt disclosure to bim. he long* I ed unutterably for her lips and the ? 1 proffered wreath round his neck of her t slim, round, white arms. Yet he would not. Trembling though j? he was, with every instinct and every ai fiber of his being straining toward her, ? with the hunger for her a keen pain in il his heart, he held himself back; or his * conception of honor held him back. k That which he had voluntarily forfeit* ed and put away from him for his hond or's sake, he would not take back though it were offered freely to him. "So," he said, after a bit, shakily; then pulled himself together, and controlling his voice?"So 'twas vours self, after all, Beatrix! Me heart told 0 me no other woman could have sung j- .v.. .. I voice. and again held out her arms to li:m -"then have pity on me, oh, my i* d dearest one?have pity on me If only ie for a little while." & And suddenly he had caught her to t- him, and she lay In his arms, her d young strong body molded to his, her h Hps to his, her eyes half-veiled, the r- sweet fragrance of her?too well res. membered?Intoxicating him; lay sua pine In his embrace, yet held him a, strongly to her, and trembled In syme pathy with the deep, hurried pounding > of his heart . . . a In the south the horizon flamed livid to the zenith, revealing a great, e black wall of cloud that had stolen n up out of Africa; beneath It the sea e shone momentarily with a sickly sllk9 en luster. Then the dense blackness o of the night reigned again, as profound as though impenetrable, eternal. >f Later a dull growl of thunder rolled e in across the waste. With it came the 3- nrst miui warnings 01 me impeuains i, wind storm. n is "'Twas ye who sang to me, deari est?" e "Who else, you great silly boy? . . . And when you followed me to ]. the door, making as much noise as a d young elephant, Terence?I was mindt. ed to punish you a little, a very little, e my dear. So I merely opened mine e and closed It sharply." "There was a woman In the hall?" "I saw her, dear, and laughed, thlnkj. lng how puzzled you would be. . . . j. Wail eruel, my heart? But I did not g mean to be. I'd planned this surprise, you know, from the minute I found our rooms adjoined." it a "And this letter"?OTtou/ke fumbled Q in his pocket and got it out?"ye brought It to me?" - i ... . . iuai song as ye am? 0 .The woman dropped her arms. "Your heart, Terence?" she asked a little bit0 terly. I "What else? Do ye doubt It?" I! She shook her head sadly, wistfvl} ly. "How do I know? How can 1 tell? Surely, dear, no two people were ev?-r _ happier than we?yet within a ><:ir from our wedding you . , . you left me, ran away from me. . . . Why?" "Well ye know why, dearest, and j well ye know 'twas love of ve ;.l ne I that drove me from ye. Could I et ! it be said ye had a husband who wa3 1 Incapable of supporting ye? Could I \ j let it be said that your husband lived \ ] like a leech upon your for urcs? I Faith, didn't I have to go for yojr j sake?" j "So," she dissented with a s^ eor.d 9 weary shake of her pretty head: "I ' think it was love of youiself. a little, - Terence?that and your j>rido. . . . Why should any of our world have guessed you were not the rich man you fancied yourself when we we^e married? Who would hav? told , them that your lunded heritage in 1 Ireland h2d turned out profitless? Not J I, my dear." $ *'I know that." he contended stub* bornly, "but I know, too, sooner or juier it wuuia nave come uui, anu thcv would have said: 'There sue goes with her fortune-hunter, the adventurer who married her for her money?'" "And if so? What earthly differ^ ence could it make to us, sweetheart? jj What can gossip matter to ua?if you j love me?" "If!" he cried, almost angrily. "IfI . . . Ah. but no. darling! 'tis your^ self knows there is no 'if about it. that I'm sick with love of ye this very \ minute?sick and mad for ye . . "Then," she pleaded, with a desperate litt'e break in her incomparable | "it came to me in London, dear, two weeks ago; we were together?Clara Plinlimmon and I?at the Carlton, : He Stopped Short, Thunderstruck. waiting for her yacht to bo put into commission. Meanwhile she was making up the party for this Mediterranean trip. ... I had no idea where to send you the letter. Have you read it?" "Have I had time, sweetheart of mine?" ; There was an interlude. In the distance the thunder rolled and rumbled. Resolutely the young woman dieengaged herself and withdrew to a little distance. "Read, monsieur," she Insisted, peremptorily. "I've better things to do, me dear," he retorted with composure. "You'll find it interesting." "I find me wife more Interesting than? How d'ye know I will?" "Perhaps I have read it" O'Rourke turned the letter over Id | his hand and noted what had theretofore escaped his attention?the fact that the envelope, badly frayed on the : ; ec ges through much handling, was open at the top. "So ye may," he admitted. ! "It was that way when I received it. And I have read it. How could I help j it?" "Then ve've saved me the bother." ! He, prepared to rise and capture her. i She retreated briskly. "Read!" ' she commanded. "Read about the Pool of Flame!" He stopped short, thunderstruck. "The Pool of Flame?" he reiterated slowly. "What d'ye know about that?" i "What the letter tells me?no more. What has become of it?" But he had already withdrawn the enclosure and tossed the envelope aside, and was reading?absorbed, excited. oblivious to all save that conveyed to his intelligence by the writi ing beneath his eyes. It was a singularly curt, dry and business-like document for one that was destined to mold the romance of i bis life?strangely terse and tritely * phrased for one that was to exert so far-reaching an influence over the lives of so many men and women. Upon a single sheet of paper bearing their letterhead. Messrs. Secretan and Sypher, solicitors, of Rangoon, Burmah, had caused to be typed a communication to Colonel Terence O'Rourke, informing him that on behalf of a client who 1 preferred to preserve his incognito they were prepared to offer a reward j of one hundred thousand pounds ster- . ! iing for the return, intact and un, marred, of the ruby known as the i Pcol of Flame. The said ruhy was, i when last heard of, in the possession of the said Colonel O'Rourke, who ! would receive the reward upon the ! delivery of the said stone to the undersigned at their offices in Rangoon within six months from date. Bald delivery might be made either In person or by proxy. With which Messrs. Secretan and Sypher begged to remain respectfully his. The Irishman read It once and again, memorizing its Import; then deliberately shredded it into minute partidee. "So It's come." he said heavily. "Just as the O'Mahoney foretold it would!" He sank back in his chair, and his wife went to him and perched herself upon the arm of It, imprisoning his head with her arms and laying her cheek against his. "What has come, my heart V' "One hundred thousand pounds," he 6aid. . . . "Treble its worth, double what the O'Mahoney expect-! oH " "Who is the O'Mahoney, dear?" He roused. "An old friend, Beatrix ?an old comrade. He died some years 1 back, on the hanks of the Tugela, fighting with a Boer commando. He i was a lonely man, without kith or kin or many friends beside meself. That, j | I presume, Is how he came to leave 1 the Pool of Flame with me." He wound an arm round her and held her ! close. "Hearken, dear, and I'll be telling ye the story of It." Behind them the Infernal glare lit | up the portentous skies. Thunder \ echoed between clouds and sea like heavy canqpnlng. The wife shrank close to her beloved. "I am not at all afraid," she declared, when her voice could be heard?"with you. . . . Tell me about the Pool of Flame." "The O'Mahoney left It with me when he went to South Africa," explained O'Rourke. " 'Twas a paste' board box the size of me fist, wrapped In brown paper and tied with a bit of ; string, that he brought me one even. lng, saying he was about to leave, and ! would I care for it in his absence. I j ; knew no more of it than that twae something he vafhed highly, bat I pat it away in a safe-deposit vault?which 1 , he mlght've done if he hadn't been a , 1 scatterbraln?en Irishman. . . . "Then he wrote me a letter?t got ( It weeks after his death?saying he felt he was about te go out, and that the Pool of Flame was mine. He I went on to explain that the box contained a monstrous big ruby and gave me its history, as far as he knew It. I "It seems that there's a certain ! highly respectable temple in one of j the Shan States of Burmah ('tis me- J hfif forgets the name of It) and in ; that temple there's an idol, a Buddha j of pure gold, 'tis said. It would be a : perfectly good Buddha, only that it lacks an eye; there's an empty socket J In its forehead, and 'tis there the j Pool of Flame belongs?or come from, j in the old days the natives called this , stone the Luck of the State, and j maybe they were right: for when it disappeared the state became a British possession. "In the war of 'eighty-five, says the O'Mahoney, a small detachment of British troops out of touch with their lommand, happened upon this temple we're speaking of and took it, dispos- j sessing priests and populace without , so much as a day's notice. The officer j m command happened to see this eye ' in the Buddha's forehead, pried it out ' and put it in his pocket. In less than an hour the natives surrounded the temple and attacked in force. The British stood them off for three days and then were relieved; but in the meantime the officer had been killed and the Pool of Flame had vanished. , . . For several years it stayed Quiet, so far as is known. Then the curse of the thing began to work, and It came to the surface In a drunken brawl !n the slums of Port Said. The police, breaking into some dive to a rr\ ytt n A T% v In ttlA nll/^A diuj/ a i vn, iuuuu uwuvu/ iu vmv y t?r?v bat a dead Greek; they say 'twas a Bhamblee. One of the police found the big ruby In the dead man's fist and before his companions gueeaad what was up slipped away with the stone. ... He was murdered some months | later In a Genoese bagnio, by a French ' girl, who got away with It somehow, j . . The O'Mahoney came across the thing la Algeria, when he was ; serving with the Foreign Legion. He ; was in Sidi Re! Abbas one night, off I duty, and wandering about, when he heard a man cry out for help In one of the narrow black alleys of the ' place. He thought he recognized a comrade's voice, and surely enough, when he ran down to aid him, he found a Dutchman, a man of his own regiment, fighting with half a dozen natives. He was about done for, the Dutchman, when the O'Mahoney came up. and so were three of the Arabs. The O'Mahoney took care of the rest of them, and ieft seven dead men behind him when he went away?the six natives and the Dutchman, who had died in his arms and given him the Pool of Flame* with his last whisper. . . . "That's how' It came to me," said OTcurke. "And where is it now?" "Pack in Algeria, if I'm net mistaken. .. . Ye remember Chanilret ?he was with us In the desert and wanted ye to marry him afterwards? He has it?the dear man; I love him lll"> " Kr/ltfco- T-To o'cVptierf of linv a. vl wmti . *?v Europe when he found his case with you was hopeless, and went to Algiers, joining the Foreign Legion." "But how??" "Well, we were fond of each other, Charpbret and I. I helped him out i of some tight corners and he helped me along when me money ran short ?as it always did, and will. I'm : thinking. After a while I got to won- j dering how much I owed the man | and figured It up; the sum total j frightened the life out of me, and I j made him take the ruby by way of se- J curity?and never was able to redeem it, for 'twas only a little after that that I came into me enormous patrimony and squandered it riotously getting married to the most beautiful woman living. "He warned me to hold the atone, the O'Mahoney did, saying that the time would come when some native prince would ofTer to redeem the Luck of the State as an act of piety and patriotism. He prophesied a reward of at least fifty thousand pounds. And now it's come?twice over!" "And now what can you do?" "Do?" cried O'Rourke. "Faith, what would I be doing? D'ye realise what this means to me, dear heart? It means you?Independence, a little fortune, the right to claim my wife!" He drew her to him. "Do? Sure, and by the first train and boat I'll go to Algeria, find Chambret, get him to give me the stone, take It to Rangoon, claim the reward, repay Chambret and?" "And what, my paladin?" "Dare ye ask me that, madame? . . . Say, will ye wait for me?" She laughed softly. "Have I not waited, Ulysses?" "Tell me," he demanded, "have ye talked with anyone about this letter?" "Only to Clara Pllnlimmon!" "Good Lord!" groaned the Irishman. "Only to her! Could ye not have printed broadsides, the better to make the matter public?" "Did I do wrong?" " 'Twas indiscreet?and that's putting it mildly, me dear. D'ye know the woman's a walking newspaper? How much did ye tell her? Did ye show her the letter?" "No." She answered his last question first "And I told her very little ?only about this reward for a ruby I didn't know you owned. We were wondering where to find you." "And she told no one?or who do you think V The woman looked a little frightened. "She told?she must hare told that man?Monsieur des Trebes." "That hlackxuard!" iinB "He was wiii ub on the yacht, one 1 of Clara's guests." ? "She has a pretty taste for com- j pany?my word! How d'ye know she i told him? He asked you about It?" I < "The letter? Yes. He wanted to j ? know the name of the solicitors and their address. I wouldn't tell him. I * ?disliked him." 1 "Had ye told Lady Plinlimmon?" "No . . r "Praises be for thatl" "Why?" "Becauee . . OTtourke paaused, vague suspicions taking shape in his mind. '"Why did he ask about Cham- ' bret?" he demanded. "How could he have learned that the Jewel was with I him?" I He jumped up and began to pace ; the floor. j His wife rose, grave with conster- ; nation. "What," she faltered?"what : makes you think, 6uspect??" "Because the fellow lied to me about ! you this very night. Ye were with Lady Pllnlimmon in the Casino, were ye not? Faith, and didn't I see ye? I was in chase of ye when the man stopped me with hi3 rigmarole about representing the French government and having a secret commission for me. Ye heard him Just now. . . . And when I aeked him was he of your party, he denied knowing Lady Pllnlimmon. ... He made a later appointment with me here, to talk things over. I'm thinking he only wanted time to think up a scheme for getting me out of the way. Also, he wanted to find out where Chambret was. D'ye not see through his little game? To get me away from Monte Carlo by the first morning train, that we might not meet; to get me on the first Atlantic liner, that I might not Interfere with his plot against Chambret. For what other reason would he give me sealed orders? Ssaled or ders!" O'Rourke laughed curtly, tak- < ; t 5he Flung Herself Upon Him, Sobbing. * l ii\g the long envelope from his pocket c and tearing it open. Hcho'.d his t tea'" i orders, if ye please!" i lie- shuffled rapidly through his fin- ' gors six sheets of folded letter paper, I gui;ucd& ui a 01115.c jjru-oti au ii, crumpled them into a wad and threw * it from him. I "What more do I need to prove that 1 he's conspiring to steal the Pool of < Flame and claim for himself the re- c ward? ... A bankrupt, discred- < i?ed, with nothing but his title and t his fame as a duelist to give him standing; is it wonderful that he's grasping at any chance to recoup his fortunes?" He took a swift stride toward the door, halted, turned. "And i young Glynn?" he demanded. "Was J he with you, and was he thick with ( this precious rogue of a vicomte?" "The/ were much together." "Faith, then it's clear as windowglass that the two of them, both broke, have figured out this thing between them. . . . Well and good! I want no more than a hint of yarning. ..." He was Interrupted by a knocking. With a start and a muttered exclamation he remembered Van Einen, and stepped to the door ar.d out into a cor- ' rldor, shutting the woman in. < with malicious delight the nose of the duelist, much inflamed. Advancing from his antagonist's position three preternaturally serious gentlemen of France in black frock ( coats and straight-brimmed silk bats waded ankle deep in dripping grass to 1 meet O'Rourke's representatives. The two parties met, saluted one another with immense reserve, and retired to a suitable distance to con- J fer; something which they did word- , ily, with enthusiasm and many pic- i turesque gestures. At first strangely amicable, the proceedings soon struck a snag. A serious difference of opinion arose. O'Rourke divined that the I conference had gone into executive , session upon the question of weapons. He treated himself to a secret grin, having anticipated this trouble. The choice of weapons being his. as the challenged, he had moaesuy selected revolvers and had brought with 1 him a brace -I Webleys, burly pieces of pocket ordnance with short barrels and cylinders chambered to hold half a dozen .45 cartridges. They were not pretty, for they had seen service in their owner's hands for a number of years, but they were undeniably built for business. And at eight of them the friends of the vicomte recoiled in horror. Eventually a oompromise was arrived at. Monsieur Juilllard stepped back, saluted, and with Von Elnem returned to hie principal, his face a mask of disappointment As for himself, be told OHourke, he was deeo- j lated, but the seconds of Monsieur dee Trebes had positively refused to oon- sent to tnrninc * meeting of honor nto a massacre. They proposed tt> iubstltute regulation French dueling; jlstols as sanctioned by the, Code. < Such as that which Monsieur le Colmel O'Rourke might observe In Monsieur Juilllard's hand. O'Rourke blinked and sniffed at It. 'Sure," he contended, " 'tis a magnlfyng glass I need to make it visible to ne undreeeed eye. What the dlwle loes It carry?a dried pea? What 1'tbey think we're here for, if net-to >lay one another wl(h due ceremony? Uk thern th.it. Am I to salve theJ^H ricomte's wounded honor by smitlng^^J lim with a spitball? I grant ye, 'tls/^^? nagniflcent, but 'tis not a pistol." MH Grumbling, he allowed himself ie persuaded. As be had foreseen and 'Af irophesied, so had It come to pas*. 1 ifet he had to grumble, partly because le was the O'Rourke, partly for tied. None the less, he consented, and in he highest spirits left the car and jlowed through the lush wet ,gras? o the spot selected for the encounter, n the shadow of the trees near the :astern border of the meadow. Here, he seconds having tossed for sides, } \e took a stand at one end of a sixtycot stretch and, still Indecorously unused, received a loaded pistol from fon Eminem. Des Trebes confronted him, whit* vith rage, regretting already [O'Rourke made no doubt) that he had M lot accepted the Webleys. The Irish- B nan's open contempt maddened the ?3 nan. The seconds retired to a perfectly J lafe distance, Von Einem holding the ivatch, one of Des Trebes' seconds a. landkerchlef. The chauffeurs threw *9 iway their cigarettes and sat up, for he first time roused out of their pro* 1 'essional air of blase lndifferenoe. 3 "One," cried the German clearly. Des Trebes raised his arm'and lev- j iled his pistol at O'Rourke's bead. A 'alnt flush colored his face, bat hie ;ye was cold and bard behind the J light and the hand that held the veapon was as steady as if supported 'J iy an invisible rest. I "Two," said Von Einem. 1 O'Rourke measured the distano* M vith his eye and raised his arm from ^ he elbow only, holding the pistol with ! 'ji i loose grip. "Three," said Von Einem. . The handkerchief fell. The Irishman fired without moving. M Des Trebes' weapon was discharged jfe ilrnost simultaneously, but with a ru ilt'U iaiLLus 1/UilCl nvuw UW"HW*V ?? . carticulcr. The Frenchman dropped he weapon and, wincing, examined soicitously a knuckle from which TRuurke's shot had struck a tiny par- (j :lrlc- of skin. His seconds rushed to lim with cries, preceded by the sur- ? jeon. with bandages. O'Rourke graoeully surrendered his artillery to Juilard, laughed at the vicomte again, ind strolled back to the motor-car. . Juillard and Von Elnem presently , \ lolred him, the former Insistently anions to have O'Rourke descend and :lasp the hand of fraternal friendship vit'n the ricomte. But the Irishman 'efused. 'Taiih, nc!" bo laughed. "Nlver! ... 'm too timorous a man to dare It. Sure and hasn't he hugged both hl? p .eccnds and the surgeon, too, already? ^or me own part I've no mind to be tlssed. Let's hurry away before beX- i celebrates further by Imprinting a 'M ih.aste salute upon the cheek of our chauffeur. . . . Besides, I've & train 4 o catch." (TO BE CONTINUED.) ~' i \ Prominent New York Politician Near Death Hon. R. N. Lansing, of Rensselaer, N. Y., Six Tl-nes a Member of- the Assembly, Tells of Narrow Escape. > "" "About fifteen years ago I was Jk \ taken with rheumar ism. which ' . affected my heart hjf producing what /Zv" was called valyt? I volar trouble. C Three doctors told me I would : '//> vi ""?- j never do another White I had many fgif; remedies rocommended to me I . y^K>?aMts K?'- 11 bottle of Dr- Miles' Heart Y^P Komedy and ft helped me inside v of 48 hours. ^At the end of the week I called on my floctor and asked him to examine me. He said I was better than he ever ) , expected to see me and asked if I was taking his medicine. When I told him [ was not. but was taking Dr. Miles' Heart Remedy, he said. 'Thank the I Lord for .'Jr. Miles' H?art Remedy.' I 1 continued to take it. and while 1 realized my heart was damage so 1 coitlu not expect a permanent cure, for fifteen years I worked every day, notwithstanding I had been told I would never work -Train. In July. 1311, I was taken with rheumatism again, and It wont to my heart as befo I got so bad that one of the Aloany papers wrote up my life and said I could not live but a few hours. 1 again took Dr. Miles' Heart Remedy with very satisfactory results, and have not , missed a day at businc-s or in the^ legislature since January. I feel that Dr. Miles' Heart Remedy has saved mv life and cannot recommend it too highly." Dr. Miles' Heart Remedy 13 sold and * tji'EivriicccJ by a:i ct-.'nu.if. MlLEo MEDIC Ac CO Elkhart, Ind. 13 I THE BAILEY-LEBBY GO r Roofing-- i CHARLESTON, S. C. for headache Dr. Miles' Anti-Fain Pill#