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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (Aug. 30, 1908)
MAN WIT I F TI TF1 ' The Bride of THE man was English; that was evident at first glance. Moreover he wan of that ubiquitous type of sneering, fault-finding Britisher whose favorite tipple has won him, in the far East, the approbrious title of "lime '. Juicer." The woman well, we had j more difficulty in classifying her. The accent and the clothes were English beyond the possibility of the most charitable error. But the piquant, sad face, the soulful brown eyes, the cheeks of - dark but wholesome and I even color, the full red lips, the small and delicately moulded features, these I were legacies perhaps of French an- cestC'rs. more likely tokens of that ' conglomerate strain now called the I American type, but English, never. Of course, being men. it was the woman who first and more greatly In terested Carlton Clarke and myself when we encountered the couple, the first morning out of Chicago, on the observation platform of the Los An geles limited. The Interest was par donable for. although on this long planned vacation to Uncle Sam's amusement park, the Yellowstone, we had promised ourselves to forget ab- I solutely all mysteries and their soiu j tion. telepathic, occult, deductive or I otherwise, we could not refrain from indulging In a little harmless specula f tlon concerning the only two persons I In the train's company who seemed ' to possess any possible degree of hu man Interest. Acquaintanceships are not so neces 1 sary nor so easily formed on trans ' continental trains as on transatlantic f liners, and so we made no effort to ' penetrate the reserve with which ' "Ixrd and Lady Labels," the title their luggage suggested to us. chose to surround themselves. Nor was thejr reserve more impenetrable than our own. True, had we so wished we might ; ha-e broken the ice with my lord con i cernlng a certain prizefight soon -to ' take place In San Francisco between a famous negro and an equally re doubtable Danish American and ; which we heard him excitedly discuss- ing with George, the porter. But even ! had we not been sufficient unto our ! selves I would have been loath to dls- pel the aura of mystery with which I j had invested the lady of the piquant face and the dreamy eyes. "They're from London. They came by the Cunard line. That much is clear ' from their luggage," remarked Clarke. ' "Moreover they make a hurried trip ; from New York to Liverpool and back again, according to the labels, and I am inclined to believe the woman acqmred her clothes and her accent In this short space of time for I will stake anything she is American. The man Is a crook If I know anything of physiognomy. 1 can't say just what is wrong, but the overmastering char acteristic In his face Is greed. Now i I've satisfied your curiosity and I hope you will leave me to my book." But Clarke had not satisfied my curiosity concerning the ill-assorted pair. He had whetted It. ajid some thing in the piquant face of the woman annealed to me in a manner i would 1 have found difficult to analyze. We had the drawing-room, and the couple of mystery the stateroom ad joining it- Consequently we frequently met them face to face in the narrow passageway while on our journeys to and from the dining car or the oo servatlon car. These meetings were matters of silent formality In which we flattened ourselves against the pol Ished mahogany woodwork to allow them to pass. And I could not help but notice that whatever the order in which thev approached the passage way the husband always fell back and compelled his wife to proceed. It mieht have been mere politeness, but whv did he alweys take the lead ex cept when passing us? And why did he watch her head so closely to see that It turned neither to the right nor to the left. We passed thus many times during the first day of the journey ana only once was the usual order reversed. Then the husband was so far In ad vance that to have waited would have been to make his object too apparent. Or else he forgot his vigilance for the moment and passed us looking straight ahead and not acknowledging our presence by so much as a "thank you." The wife followed, her eyes to the floor. As she came opposite my elbow she raised her head and gave me a look full In the eyes, a look so full of helpless ap peal that it startled me. I could do no more than slightly bend my head when the man glanced suspiciously around. The eyes immediately fell to the floor again and the Incident was as If It had not happened. The English couple were just coming from the diner. We were on our way from there in response to the last call for dinner. We had the diner practically to ourselves and I lost no time In telling Clarke of the incident in the passageway. "There's somethong wrong there, Clarke, I'm sure of It." "There certainly is when a pretty wife gives a handsome fellow like you a rapid fire glance in a dark passageway," ban teringly returned Clarke. "No," I returned earnestly. "There is something seriously wrong. She needs our help In some way and it's up to us to find out. There' a mystery there to be solved." "My dear Sexton." yawned Clarke, wearily. "Can't you divorce yourself from the idea of work? This is a vacation. If you must have material for what you call your literary efforts, wait until we get to the pank and then write a guide-book of the Yellowstone. From those I have read I am sure there Is a crying need for a good one. I admit the woman might be interesting were she alone, but the man Is Impossible and as a family I refuse to be Interested In them.'" It was only a half hour afterward that Clarke changed this view entirely and found himself so vastly interested In the mysterious English couple that' our va cation, the Yellowstone and everything else paled into Insignificance. It was stifling hot. and when we had fin ished our dinner we found the observation platform, the .only place of comparative comfort, already crowded. "Let's go to our quarters, where we can shed our clothes, turn on the electric fan and be comfortable." I suggested. Our drawing-room connected with the stateroom of the English couple by a door so that the two might on occasion be thrown together en suite. This door bolt ed on our side and I presume upon the other also. We had removed most of our garments and had settled down to read and to be as comfo'rtable as possible when our attention was attracted by a stealthy scratching sound at the base of this door. "I looked down and saw the corner of an envelope appear. I called Clarke's at tention and we watched it until the entire envelope, a long, white one, stuffed so full of papers that it went under the door , Bein& the Chronicles of Carlton CIarKe;ielatho-Dcduetive - - . A V ft a - 0 A the Yellowstone with difficulty, lay on the floor at our feet. t "Our pretty liasion progresses." whis pered Clarke. "There is a billet doux for you." I hastily seized the envelope and emp tied its contents on the reading table. And then Clarke and I stared and gaped In helpless and Idiotic astonishment. Be fore us lay bonds of the United Zinc Corporation to the value of J73O.000. With them was a single sheet of m.. paner with the crest of the Los Angele limited at the top. Clarke and I read It silently. "To Mr. Carlton Clarke: I am taking wliat I believe to be the only course to save these papers and my life. By the time we reach Old Faithful Inn I hope to devise some disposition to ask you to make of them. Until then guard them well. I know I can trust you. Destroy this note at once. Lady Ethelbert Sniv elv." "Now, what do you. think of that?" gasped in a whisper. "What is the use of thinking?" answered Clarke. "We will wait. Lady Snlvely, you are a brilliant woman. You are physiogonomist of the highest order. You are taking an awful chance, but you have put your trust In the right men. We will be true to it and see this thing through to the end." And Clarke took off his traveling cap and gravely bowed toward the door that separated us from the mys tery beyond. "And now. Sexton," he continued. "there is but one course for me to pur sue and that is to act is If nothing has happened. It Is safe to say the husband will not suspect us unless we give him cause to do so. Nothing Is likely to happen on this train, and the next act of the drama is laid at Old Faithful so we might as well possess our souls In patience. ' When we met the English couple, or Lord and Lady Snlvely as we now felt privileged to call them, on the obser vation platform the next morning we could discern absolutely nothing dif ferent in their manner toward each other nor towards us than in previous meetings. The husband seemed, as usual, utterly wrapped up in his own selfish self and oblivious to his wife and to the other passengers on the platform. Once Clarke caught the woman's eye and a quick exchange of telepathic glances passed between them. Again I found ber eyes looking Into mine when her husband's head was turned and I tried with all the power of my soul to make my eyes say to her that all was well and that we were on the-Job to the end. The bonds were safely strapped Jn Clarke's money belt, next to . his body, and. without boasting, between the two of us, I would have defied any six men to take them away from him. No further Incident occurred auring the railroad journey and the state of armed neutrality continued. At Ogden we watched with interest to be assured that the couple of mys tery transferred to the Yellowstone, It would have complicated matters and been embarrassing If they had gone one way. while we, with th bonds, went another. Our routes were the same, however, and when we boarded the Short Line sleeper we found them in the opposite section, the staterooms having already been pre-empted by a party of German tourists. After breakfast at Yellowstone sta tion the next morning our entire party, numbering about 60, were loaded into the big M.-Y. stages for the 32-mlle drive to the Upper Geyser basin and Old Faithful Inn. Clarke and I had a surrey to ourselves in charge of one Bo Hughes. "Bo" being Yellowstone slang for driver. We also traveled "special." That is. we were relieved from adhering to the regular schedule laid down by the stage company. What was infinitely more to my relief we were spared, the company of Lord and Lady Snively, who went in one of the stages. Knowing what we did, with the mystery of those three-quarters of a million hanging over our heads, their presence could not but hav jarred upon the beautiful pano rama of canyons, forests and dashing mountain streams through which we were passing. For my part I chose to forget them and the mystery. It was different with Clarke. Slower than I to awaken to the mystery it now absorbed his very being. I am sure he saw none of the landscape through which we pass ed and his mas ter mind was busy with the problem. After several vain endeavors to draw his attention to the landscape I left him to his thoughts, and taking the front seat with Bo Hughes I swallowed with avidity and apparent arulliblilty his marvelous tales of beavers, elk, bear and the other tame wild animals of the park. We reached the Fountain lunch sta tion and the Lower Geyser basin in advance of the rest of the party and Clarke roused to his duty sufficiently to walk out with me over the "forma tion," as the acres of limestone de posit made by the geysera Is officially and technically known. Here again we met my lord and lady when the rest of the tourists came up, and were grouped reverently in a circle to watch the Fountain geyser play. Lady Snlvely clapped her hands in glee as the boiling water, throwing clouds of seething steam, shot 60 feet into the '"Isn't It marvelous!" she exclaimed. Not a shade of trouble marked her countenance. She was a wonderful actress. "All beastly rot. Just a lot of beast ly steam and water coming out of a beastly hole," said her cheerful hus band, turning away with a disgust only surpassed by that with which he in spired every other member of the company. My heart beat a little faster as we began the last nine-mile lap to the Upper Geyser basin and Old Faithful Inn. but I knew not what awaited us so I put it out of my mind and leaving to Clarke the thinking part. I again took the front seat with the driver. Bo Hughes had begun to Interest me. He was a little chap, an ex-Jockey, and he proudly boasted that he could still ride at an even 100 without training. He had been by turns a cow-puncher and a horse-wrangler in the Winter and a park driver In the Summer. He was a wiry bundle of nerve and muscle and if it came to a fight I Instinctively discerned in him an ally not to be dls- plsed. The shadows or the western snow- peaks were lengthening when we drew up, in advance or the rest or the party, again by virtue of our "special," before the log portals of that wonderful piece of forest architecture. Old faithful Inn. I wae assigned to room 17 and Clarke to room 18. Lord and Lady Snively fol lowed us and drew No. 19. Whatever the destiny that bound us together it seemed unbroken. Clarke went directly to his room. but I was there to see the Yellowstone and I resolved to do that at any price. Ttf MM TJ?W US CS . Tl?r M9l so I met Bo Hughes on his way from ceeded over the ,.i,-i rmtlnn of the Upper Geyser Basin before going down to see Old Faithful, which was scheduled to play at 6:30 o'clock by the dial in front of the hotel. This would be a dangerous place to travel about on at night, -Bo," I said to Hughes, aa we clambered up and down the mounds of calcareous deposit. between bottomless pools of boiling water, peering down into the growling. sulphurous depths of the "Lion and the Cubs," threading the treacherous and precipitous sides of the "Grotto," and feeling beneath our feet the hollow cruch of the, crust that seemed but a thin partition between the beautiful world above and the regions of the in ferno beneath. "You're mighty right," answered Hughes. "I never knowed of but one man that ever come over here at night and he wandered out o' the hotel, drunk er crazy er somethin.' and never showed up no more. No. sir; I reckon there's a devil a-ialtin' at the bottom of every one o' these here holes with a hook. Why, even the swatties, that's the eol dlers, you know, what's detailed out here, like that fellow over there, to see that the tourists don't carry off none o' the formation, they couldn't no more be dragged out here at night than you could get a cow-puncher to herd sheep." Then we went over to see "Old Faith ful" go through its four-minute act, and it was time to go in and dress for dinner. Supposing Clarke was already at his toilet I went directly to my room and had begun the operation of shaving when I heard a gentle tap at the door. It was Clarke, and his face had a seri ous look. "Hurry through with your dressing," he said. "The English folks have gone in to dinner, and I want to make our hours agree with theirs. Sexton, I've got the whole story, or nearly the whole of it, and it's bad. Very bad. I've no time to tell it all now, but' it may be murder if we do not work fast and carefully. And the worst of it is that we can do nothing but wait and watch. A man can say a good deal to his wife before the law may Interfere, and we are not even the law. By the way, the architect who built that hotel had a great eye to the picturesque but very little Idea of privacy. See those cracks between the logs. The acoustic properties of the walls are perfect. But hurry with your dressing and I will go on in and keep an eye on our friends. We must not let them get out of our sight a minute." It was all innocent enough at din ner. My lady at the table next to ours ohatted as Innocently and my lord found fault and sneered as naturally as if their lives were a printed page. When the dinner was over they went directly to their room and Clarke and I disregarded the importunities of the guide to go out and see "Old Faithful" under the searchlight, and quietly let ourselves into Clarke's room. It was not long before I found that Clarke had. Criminal ystencs. by frank lovell nelson. lfif5 TM)5 - - - Smi.OrYvWM not spoken too highly of the acoustics 1 of the walls. It was disgracefully HKe eavesoroji ping on an ordinary lamuy row, we Vnew that there was someimns back of all that possessed a vital In terest for us "It Isn't any use urging me any further. Lord Snlvely," we heard the woman say. "You will never get them if I can help It. I only thank God that T found vow outln time, though t dnn'i aw whv It was not before I married you." "But my deah," drawled the hus band, "you surely cawn't believe all that beastly rot. Cawn't a fellow have a beastly clipping in his' bag without being a bloomin' crook? Haven't I brought you out to this beastly hole and given you everything you wanted." "Y.es, with rny own money," inter rupted the wife. "And didn't I take you to London," continued my lord, unmindful of the interruption, "when it was deuced In convenient for . me to go, and now you won't give me as much as a bob to save me?" "Yes, and why did you leave Lon don so suddenly before we even saw this castle that I am to take out of pawn?" "You know I couldn't stay in Lon don another day with the beastly hay fever coming on. Alice. Now. what have you done with those papers?" "Yes, I knew you had searched my luggage, liar. Don't give yourself any false hopes. You will never see them again." "Then " The sentence was lost In a hiss of rage. "Oh, yes. I know you are perfectly capable of killing me just as you did those other women." She was interrupted by a snarl of rage from my lord and I thought for a moment that we were going to have to rush in and take a hand then and there, but they quieted down and the talk drifted into commonplaces. "Merely a repetition of what I heard this afternoon." whispered Clarke. "It seems to be their stock conversation. I wonder . No. it can't be him. He wouldn't be so bold." Clarke was talking to himself now and so I slipped out and took a stroll about the mammoth rotunda of' the hotel. I encountered Bo Hughes at the drinking fountain and we sat down over a cigar while I reveled in- his picturesque conversation. Either it was Bo Hughes' powers of description or something soporific in the cigars I had consumed, but I forgot a,bout Clarke- and the drama we were watch ing, until I was suddenly recalled to my duty by noticing that the guests had slipped away to their rooms and we were alone in the cavernous ro tunda with the exception of the sleepy clerk at the desk. - Asking Bo to come with me I rose to go back to Clarke's room, when a shawled and veiled figure stole down the corridor and out the doorway. It was the English woman. She had gone but a few minutes when the fig ure of a man followed. I drey J3o er-- y back into the shadow, that he might I not see us. It was Lord Snlvely. I was tiptoeing down the corridor to apprise Clarke when his figure loomed out of the shadow, and, motioning Bo and me to follow, he slipped out the door in the rear of the mysterious couple. No moon was shining, but the night was clear and the light from the stars was equal to that of the moon in a lesser altitude or in an atmosphere less clear. We saw the figure of the woman walking briskly. About a hun dred yards behind her came the roan. An equal distance behind him we closed up the rear. At the right "Old Faithful" was shoot ing steam and water a hundred and fifty feet Into the air. Behind us tow ered the gigantic outlines of the inn, a light here and there along Its rugged facade. "'Great guns, she's making for the formation! It's suicide," I whispered. We reached the edge of the treach erous sea of alternate limestone and boiling water. There, already far out upon it, was the woman dashing blindly and heedlessly along with instant and awful death on either side of her. Be hind her the man picked his way care fully and cautiously. Would we dare to follow? I for one shuddered at the thought of being out In the midst of those awful forces of nature In the darkness where one false step meant a plunge Into boiling water that would strip the bones of their flesh almost in a twinkling. "Come on, gents, follow me," whis pered Bob. "I hain't been 'round this here park nine years for nothin.' I know every inch of this here formation Just like one of my cayuses knows the trail to the M.-Y. barn." And so in' Indian file we started, fol lowing Hughes and picking our way gingerly between the spurting jets of steam. Clarke handed me a revolver and had his own In hand ready for ac tion. Bo Hughes unlimbered a mon strous 44 from somewhere about his diminutive person. . But withal firearms were useless unless it be that a quick shot from Clarke's steady hand might wing the man if the drama began to take the setting of murder. ""We've lost them!" excitedly whis pered Clarke. i Sure enough, the couple were nowhere In sight. "We'll pick 'em up all right when we round that geyser cone yonder,'" whis pered Bo. Yes, there they were, as he had said, but the scene was vastly changed. The woman had stopped her headlong flight and was kneeling on the formation as if in prayer. In her clasped, uplifted hands we saw the glint of polished metal. Behind her the husband crept with outstretched arms. Closer and closer he came, but she seemed un mindful of his presence. Were we to witness a murder or a suicide prevented? It was hard to tell. We could do nothing but stand idly by and await the denouement. To cry out, to advance, would be but to pre cipitate Ibe tragedy. Clarke dropped on Solver or one knee and drew a careful bead on the advancing man. Bo Hughes did the same. As for me I was too fascinated for action. Suddenly there was a scream of agon ized fear. The man threw up hls hands and disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him up. "Veritably it had, for when we rushed to the spot where we had last seen him we found only the boiling, swirling waters of "The Devil Well." "She's got a down current that goes right to the middle of the earth, I guess. He won't never show' up no more. Friend of yours, rot, I hope," com mented Bo Hughes. " The form of the woman lay out stretched on the formation a few ,feet away. "She's only fainted, I think," said Clarke, as we gently lifted her up. A small jeweled revolver fell from her grasp- - . In truth she had only fainted, for she regained consciousness with the handling and looked wildly about her. "You are free from him forever, Lady Snively," said Clarke. "Thank God!" she exclaimed. "I fear It is wicked to feel so, but it is better than suicide for me or hanging for him." The absence of Lord Snively would be a difficult . thing to explain at the hotel and none of us relished the idea of an inquest with its consequent delay, to say nothing of the incriminating colors with which suspicious minds might invest the events of the night. But manifestly there was nothing to be done but to tell the truth and so Clarke and I took Lady Snively be tween us, and piloted by Hughes, we picked our way carefully back over the quarter of a mile of treacherous forma tion. When we set foot on solid and safe ground again "Old Faithful" was just beginning to play. He had played Just as we started out and so, accord ing to his schedule, maintained through out the centuries, we had been on the formation just 69 minutes. It had not seemed more than 10. When we reached the hotel we found two very potent agencies at work in our favor: Clarke's reputation, - which had penetrated even into the Yellowstone, and Bo HugWes, whose straight story admit ted of no doubt. "Without the knowledge of a single one of our fellow-passengers it was quietly arranged that we should all proceed in the morning by . a special stage in charge of Hughes to Mam mouth station'at. the northern end of the park, there to make report to the caval ry colonel In command. This plan ad mitted of a few hours' sleep, . of which we hastened to take advantage. "And now. Lady Snively," began Clarke, when ' we were comfortably stowed away in the stage the next morn ing, "perhaps you can tell us your story and we can advise you as to the future." "Please do not call me Lady Snlvely," answered the brave little woman. "That name was my undoing and henceforth I am content to be plain Alice Hathaway. The story is brief, and if it would only prove a warning to all foolish American girls I would feel that I have not lived it in vain. My father died when I was 18. He was one of the organizers of the United States Zinc Corporation, but be fore his death he had converted all of his stock into bonds. I was an only child and I suddenly found myself In posses sion of the bonds which you have now. That was two years ago. I was young and foolish and my ideas of life had been gained from reading fiction, not the best, I believe. When . real lord in the person of Lord Snively met me and asked my hand in marriage, I was innocent enough to believe I was making a great match. "We went first to London. The world and the future looked lovely for a time, but the dream was soon dispelled. Sus picion began to grow upon my happiness when, instead of proceeding at once to his ancestral castle in Surrey as he had promised, we suddenly packed In an hour and made a hurried return to the United States. On the passsage home I found in his luggage a newspaper clipping that set me thinking all the harder. It was the story of some villain in England who, under various names, was suspected of marrying a number of women, securing possession of their wealth and then mur dering them." "J. Frederick Bannister, was it not?" Where Do the World's Pins Go' New York Tribune. O the perennial question, "Where do all the pins go?" no adequate an swer has ever been made. Some are swallowed, for every 'now and then there is published a statement in regard to persons who survive operations for the removal of this foreign body from the human svstem. The majority are lost (for whoever is able to find a pin always when It is needed?), and it may oa pre sumed that all finally disintegrate and re turn tn the earth, from which came tne Aimnn combined in these articles of use and convenience. The origin of the pin is also lost in the mists of antiquity, but as its prototype is found in the thorn and the slender fish bone, it may readily be concluded that the use of these began with the invention of clothing, usually ascribed to the father and -mother of the race, Adam ana eve, when "they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves aprons" in the Gar den eastward In Eden, although tne tact of sewing would seem to show that the needle is of higher antiquity man xne pin. In the most ancient remains of the hu man race vet discovered, those of the lake dwellers, in Central Europe, there have been many pins found; some of bone and others of bronze. As if to show that there is nothing new under the sun, some have been found which almost exactly resemble the mod ern safety pin. Brass pins find mention in the Book of Exodus. Ping, of wood, bone, ivory, bronze, silver and gold, more or , less rudely constructed, were in use among the ancient dwellers in Egypt, Rome, Greece and Asia. The Chinese are practically the only pinless nation, with all their skill and inventiveness never having made use of this device, which is regarded as indispensable by the rest of the world. Artistically wrought pins are found in the tombs of ancient Egypt. In Pompeii and Hercuia neum are preserved bronze pins and bone hairpins. The modern making of pins dates back to the fifteenth century, when pins of iron were first manufactured in England, but It Is believed that these were without heads and were practically skewers. In the year 1540 pins made from brass were introduced in England by Queen Cather ine Howard, the fifth of the six wives of King Henry "VIII. In 1543 there was an act of Parliament which was designed "to avoid the slight and false making of pins." and provided that "no person shall put on sale any pinnes, but only such as shall be double headed, and have .the head soldered fast to the shank of the pinnes, well smoothed, the shank well shapen, the points well and round filed, canted and sharpened." At that time the chief source of supply was France, but in 1626 the manufacture I . , interrupted Clarke. "Do you know, Sexton, I rather suspected from the first it was him. He was a sort of English Johann Hoch and went under a number -of aliases." I "Yes, Bannister was one of the names ; used, and the description in the paper fitted him so perfectly that, struggle as ' I might against the awful thought, I I could not get it out 'of my mind. He knew of my wealth and knew the safe'l deposit company with which it was kept. I determined to draw it out secretly and place, it elsewhere. I had secured the j papers when, with the suddenness that . marked all his movements, he told me we were going to the Yellowstone. I had no opportunity to place the bonds any- where, so closely did he watch me. I am now convinced he knew I had them , on my person, for our journey was a constant series of quarrels over the ques- ' tion of my placing all my fortune in his ' hands that he might redeem from mort- ' gage his ancestral estates. "During one of these quarrels, about . charged him directly with the clipping ; the time we reached Chicago, I 1 I had found in his luggage. His first look of terror and anger told me the ' shaft had struck and then he became the same inscrutable, oily villain as i before. But I knew the truth and I ; knew that upon my wits alone rested the safety of my fortune and my life. ( "When you gentlemen entered the ; train I studied you closely. Then I ; learned Mr. Clarke's name and it -was ; at once familiar to me because Mrs. j Richard King, whom I knew quite j well, had told me of your wonderful j work and how you had rescued her ' and her husband from the wiles of a ' worker of black magic. I knew I could : trust you. "Only once did I lose heart and see nothing in the future, but the alterna- ! tlve between death and the lifelong ! dlsgTace of being his wife. This was at Old Faithful Inn when he watched , me so closely that I saw no possible j chance of communication with you. I believe for the moment my mind gave . way under the strain. I noticed that Snively was dozing in his chair, and I an overmastering impulse seized me to get as far as possible from the hotel and end it all with the little re- : volver I had provided for Just such an emergency; and if it had not been for I you brave gentlemen either I should ) have succeeded, or he would have killed me or I would have slain him. I i believe it all turned out for the best. You received the note I slipped through the crack in the wall, Mr. Clarke dl- -rectlng the disposition of my fortune I In case of my death?" "Yes, I received it all right, '" an- j s-viered Clarke. "But now I have the happiness to be able to restore it to its rightful owner living." We found the commandant at Mam- 1 mouth a most reasonable man. He i was fully satisfied with our story, ex- I acting only the promise, readily given, j I assure you, that we would keep him : advised of our whereabouts in case powers above him should wish to in- j quire more closely into the matter. The stage company also treated us j with marked consideration In Insisting that we should resume our Interrupted , tour as their honored guests. Lndy Snlvely. or Miss Hathaway, as we now ! called her. we saw safely on the train ! at Granger, bound for the East, her fcl- i . low passengers no doubt little suspect- j lng that she carried with her almost a I king's ransom. , "Do you know." remarked Clarke, after we had resumed our slghtsecinar. "women are always unreasonable. It she really wanted to make away with j herself why did she wauder over al- , most three-quarters of a mile of forma- j tion with certain death on either side : of her to do it with a pistol?" 1 As the question involved a problem ; that dates from Adam's loss of a rib i it necessarily remained unanswered. We never saw Miss Hathaway again, , but twice each year Clarke and I re ceive each the Interest upon JlO.OfiO worth of bonds of the United States Zinc Corporation. T suppose the bond stand in our names, else why should ; they send us the interest? But I am ; sure neither of us is conscious of hav ing earned any such reward. (Next week: let.") "The Satsuma Brace- of pins took a great start in England, and one man employed 1500 persons. Ten years later the pinmakers of London formed a corporation, but later the in- : dustry found its chief seat at Birmlng- ; ham. In this country, in 17T6, prizes were j offered to the Carollnas for the first na- ; tive-made pins and needles, but It was not until the war of 1813 put a practical embargo on the Importation of pins, and the price rose to prohibitive proportions, i that their actual manufacture was start- , ed in the United States, and it was inven- ' tive Yankees who perfected the modern I process of pinmaklng. ! The modern plnmaking machine works automatically and completes the' pin, j with the exception of coloring and polish- ! lng, without the aid of human hands. In 1841 the device for sticking pins in j rows of paper was invented by Samuel ! Slocum of Connecticut and put in use in the factory where pins were made by : Dr. Howe's machine. It was later im- ' proved by Thaddeus Fowler. This ma- chine is described as scarcely less lngenl-j ous than the pin-making invention. By use of these devices the total pin product ' in this country, chiefly in Connecticut, : was a little more than 50.000.000 gross in 1900. of which about 47.500.000 were ordi nary pins, about 1,500.000 were safety pins and about 1.000,000 were hairpins. In size pins range from those huge safety pins used for horse blankets, four or five Inches in length, down to the slen der gilt pins used by entomologists in mounting specimens, of which It takes 4500 to weigh an ounce. Mourning pins are made from iron wire, heated to get the proper color, and then coated with black Japan varnish. Glass-headed pins are chiefly made in Germany, a thin bar of enamel or glass being kept at a proper temperature, and the pin being inserted in it with a whirling motion, which de- . taches enough of the soft material to , make the head. Skilled workmen are said to be able to head 25,000 to 30,000 glass pins in one day. The old nursery rhyme It Is a sin to steal a pin; It is a greater to steal a 'tater; But he who steals a copper Is guilty of a whopper. has Its counterpart In one of Franklin's "Hints to Those Who Would Be Rich: ' A penny saved is twopence dear; A pin a day's a groat a year. In the days when pins cost considerably more than now the term "pin money came into use to designate a sum set apart by a husband for the use of bin daughter, for the purchase of apparel or ornaments for her person. In one of Richard Steele's plays, "The Tender Husband," a character says: "The main article with me is that foundation of wives' rebellion and husbands' ciickolduui, that cursed pin money 500 per annum pin money.
