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About Beaver State herald. (Gresham and Montavilla, Multnomah Co., Or.) 190?-1914 | View Entire Issue (May 15, 1913)
'SERIAL r STORY J —„ -------- 1 Chronicles if Addington Peace By B. Fletciwr Robinson Co-Aatboi with A. Conan Doyle of | |^T^iM<csndoftbsB«Ä«rviUsa^*^ (Vop'ruat. 1Z12. by W. G. Chapman) M *=== ' ■ —~ THE TRAGEDY OF THOMAS HEARNE (Continued.) "I saw you by the cairn and circle above the Black brook this after noon," he went on. "Is that to be the acene of your present investigations?" ~I have no definite plan at present." I said with a snap. Ho took a long look at me and stopped his questions. 1 left the table as soon as I could do so decently, rout ed out the landlord and engaged s private room. I had bad enough of taking meals with a neolithic ex pert. it was blowing hard next day. a fierce northwester that cleaned the clouds out of the sky like a sponge washes a slate. Just after eleven I started out to make a further examination of the po sition. I wasn't such a fool as to march up to the cairn with old Hearne and a warder or two, as It might be. spying on me from another hillock, so I went down the high road that lay as white and clear across the gray moor as a streak of paint, until I had left the place some distance be hind me. No one, so far as I could see, was tn sight, and presently I turned off the road along a disused cart track that seemed to lead in the di rection I wanted. Its ancient ruts were filled with sprouting heather, and the short moor turf had covered up the hoof-marks with a velvet sur face. I had walked a good quarter of a mile, when, rounding a curve of the hill, I found the old road explained In the ruins of a small farm, one of those melancholy memorials of a time when frozen meat was unknown, and it paid a man to breed cattle and sheep and cultivate a wheat field or two, even on Dartmoor. The roof had fallen in, and the woodwork had been carried away, but the stone walls of the bouse and outbuildings still re mained undefeated by a hundred years of storm. A weather-beaten cherry tree was pushing out Its spring leafage before the door. Leaving the farm, I began to climb the cairn bill, as I must call it for want of a better name, which shel tered the farm from the north and west. It was rough walking, for the heath er was set thick with granite bould ers. At last I reached the top, skirt ed the mound set about with stones where the prehistoric chief lay sleep ing—and very nearly stepped upon the body of that old fellow, Thomas Hearne. Luckily for me he never turned his head. The wind on the face of the hill was blowing in great gusts like the firing of a cannon, and my foot steps had been drowned in its thun der. I crept back behind a heap of tumbled rocks and dropped on my hands and knees, watching him through a convenient crevice. He lay fiat on his chest, while he covered the gang at work in the new ground below with a small telescope. It might be curiosity, of course, for many men regard a convict as some thing abnormal, something that Is as pleasant to stare at as if be were the cannibal king at a fair. And yet that seemed a weak explanation. Was he tn with the police? Had they got news that an attempt at rescue was to be made? If so, I stood the best chance in the world of finding myseir in the county jail within the week. There was nothing to be gained by imagining bad luck. I walked back to the Inn, and sat down to a study or the district with maps I had brought with me. There was only one rail road within many miles, and that was the single track that ran up from Ply mouth to Princetown village. At the first signal that a convict had escaped the station would be full of warders; so that outlet was barred. South of the moor, fifteen miles away, ran an other branch line ending at Ashbur ton. But I was determined to leave the railroad alone. The stations would be the first places to be watched by the police. Torquay, some thirty miles away, might easily be reached by a good horse and trap within the day. I could hire one for a month through the landlord, with the excuse that 1 wanted it for my exploring expedi tions amongst the stone remains, it would surprise no one if it were seen off the roads with a luncheon-basket prominently displayed. So I decided, I questioned the girl who brought the meal to my sitting-room as to old Hearne, but she could give me little information. He had arrived at the inn a couple of days before I ap peered, and had spent most of bls Huie in long walks on the moors. She thought be had a triend amongst the prison officials, for she bad twice seen him coming out of the great gates down the street. That was all —and it left me more anxious about him than before. It was becoming rery plain that before 1 took any de- | elded step towards the escape, I must I make sure of this man's business on the moors. After dinner I walked Into the inn bar to buy a smoke, and found Hearne with bls back to the fire, talk ing to the landlord. As I entered, they both dropped into an uneasy silence. I was certain they bad been discussing me. but I didn't want to let them know it, and so began to talk big about the scenery. 1 stayed down tor about half an hour, and then allowed that I would get back to some writing I had to do. "I'm glad you admire the moor, Mr. | Kingsley," said the landlord, holding back the door tor me. "Nothing quite ' like it in the states, I should think." Upon my soul, I was as near as may be to owning 1 had never been there. But I remembered that 1 was Abel Kingsley, of Memphis, just in time. "No," I said, "it's something quite unique." "It's a wild place, sir," he went on. "Very wild and desolate. You should take a walk one night when the moon is full, as it is now. Then you would understand how the stories of ghost bounds and headless riders and devils In the mires first started. Mr. Hearne here Is going to take my advice " • "Tonight?" I asked, turning to the old fellow "No, Mr. Kingsley, 1 am too tired to think of it tonight." be said. "To morrow or the next day, perhaps." I wished them a good evening and tramped up the stairs to my sitting- room. which looked over the moors at the back of the tnn. It was cer tainly a splendid night, with a great searchlight of a moon drawing the strange tors—as they call the granite caps ot the hills—In black silhouette upon the luminous skyline. I lit a pipe and sat there in the shadows, thinking, thinking. It was pleasant to be a decent man again, to wear clean linen and boots with real soles; to wash and shave and brush myself daily. I was back tn my Eden days before the fall, when six hunters were in my stable, and men and women were glad to know Jack Henderson of Lowood Hall in the best ot coun ties; yes, I was away from Prince town village in the midst of happy memories when I came to my senses with the sound of a soft tap-tapping under the window. There were tip toe skulking footsteps on the gravel of the yard; Heaven knows but my ear had been well trained to such steps as those. I crept softly to my window and peered out The man was almost across the yard, moving in the shadow of the pig-sties. As he stopped at the wicket-gate that opened on to the moor, he turned bls head to the moon. It was Hearne again. I decided on that instant I slipped on my boots and ran down the stairs. The landlord was locking up for the night as I came to the front door. "I’m going to take your advice,” 1 said with a laugh. "Very good, sir; I will sit up for you.” “No, no, give me the key. Has Mr. Hearne gone to bed?” "Yes, sir, about ten minutes ago.” “His room is on the first floor, isn't it?" "No, sir; he chose one on the ground floor.' He preferred it.” The wiser man, thought I. He need ed no door when he had but to open his window and step out. When I got to the back of the inn Hearne was a good four hundred yards away, climbing a low ridge. As be disappeared over its edge I set off running at top speed, for I saw that tn so broken and rugged a place I should have to keep close to his heels or I should lose him altogether. It was well I did so, for when I reached the crest of the rise he had vanished. Presently, however, I caught sight of him again, walking very fast down a hollow at right angles to the line he first took. It led in the direction of the cairn hill. It was hard work, that two miles' stalk across the moor. Sometimes I ran, sometimes crawled, sometimes lay flat on my chest with my head burled In the heather like an ostrich. Once I tried to cut a corner across what seemed a plot of level turf and struggled back, panting, from the grasp of the bog with the black slime almost to my waist. But I took great credit for my performance since the old man tramped steadily forward, showing no sign of having seen me. He did not climb the cairn bill as I had half expected, but skirted along the base until he came to the track which led to the ruined farm. Down this he walked quickly and passed through the doorway of the main build ing. I remained upon the slope of the hill, waiting for him to reappear. Five, ten minutes went by, and then my curiosity got the better of my prudence. I determined to go down and see what he was about The place was sheltered from the gale, but I could hear it yelping and humming in the rocks above, now and again a gust came curling up the val ley, setting the heather whispering around me. I crept forward over the soft turf of the cart track, reached the gap where the door had been, hes itated, listened, and then stuck in my head. I had been a boxer in my time, or that would have been the end of me. As I ducked, the heavy stick flicked off my cap and crashed Into the wall with a nasty thud. I jumped back, and he came storming out throng* the doorway like a madman. I never saw more beastly fury In a mans eyes. I side-stepped, and he missed me again It waa a knife this time. Then I woke up aud let him have It with my right uuder the ear. He staggered, dropping the knife. As ho stooped to pick It up, I jumped for him and In ten seconds more was sitting on his chest, pegging out hie arms on the turf. He tried a strug gle or two; but he soon saw that I was far the stronger man, and so lay panting, with a hopeless despair In his face, that. In a man of hie age was shocking to witness. Ho bad tried to kill me. but, on my honor, 1 felt sorry for him. "Well, Mr. Hearne." I said, "and what does this mean?” "Too old,” he gasped. "Twenty years ago—different. How did you suspect? It was justice—nothing but bare Justice, by Heaven!" "Now. what In the world do you think I am?" 1 asked him. In great surprise. "A detective. You couldn’t deceive me.” I got to my feet with a curse at the muddle I had made of It. and ho sat up staring at me as If he thought I bad gone clean crasy of a sudden. “I'm no detective," I said angrily, "though I waa fool enough to believe you were one." "Then why did you follow me to night?” he asked, with a quick sus picion. “Why did you try to kill me?” I said. "The truth Is, Mr. Hearne, you and I are playing a risky game. Is it to be cards on the table, or are we to separate and say no more about ttr He sat watching me for a time with a puzzled look. Plainly be was tn great uncertainty of mind. "Perhaps I have nothing to tell," he said at last. “A man does not attempt to mur der detectives unless be has a crime to conceal." "That Is true,” he said, nodding bls head; "very just and true. There was nothing to be gained by a long bargaining of secrets with him. Whatever his business, he could speedily discover mine If he chose. If I were honest with him he might return the confidence. "I am arranging for the escape of Julius Craig, now doing his time in the prison yonder," I told him. "Julius Craig!” he echoed, with wild eyes. "The escape of Julius Craig?” "Yes. Do you know him?" He burst into a scream of hysteri cal laughter, swaying his body to and fro. and pressing his hands to bls sides as If trying to crush the uncan ny merriment out ot him; and then, before I guessed what ho was about, the old fellow was upon me, with bls arms about my neck In mad em- brae x "Welcome, comrade," he cried. “I, too, have come to find a way out of Princetown jail for Julius Craig." It took a good five minutes and a pull out of a flask to get him back to hard sense. Then he told me hla story sitting on a fallen stone under the old cherry tree. Craig was dearer to him than any brother, he said, with a burst of open sincerity. There was that between them that he could never forget while life remained to him. He had heard how the man had come under prison discipline, and had come to help him escape If that were humanly possible. Of me or my London employers be knew nothing whatever. He had been shown over the prts- on, having obtained a pass from an influential friend, and while there had learned the place where Craig was dally employed. Yesterday from the cairn hill he had satisfied himself that the convict was working In the gang. He had crept out this evening to examine the stream and hedge which divided the new enclosure from the moor. When he saw me on his track, his suspicions as to my business were confirmed. Either be must give up his project or my mouth must be stopped. So he tempted me Into the ruined farm. The rest I knew. He spoke in an easy, pleasant voice, with a perfect frankness and good humor. It never seemed to occur to him that he had done anything un reasonable. anything to which a level headed man could object. I stared at him In growing amazement. There seemed. Indeed, only one so lution before me—that he had becomo partially insane. "You must understand my position, Mr. Kingsley,” he concluded. "I am not a lunatic, but I have made up my mind In this matter of Julius Craig. Any one who is foolish enough to come between us must stand aside or take the consequences. Towards yourself, for example, I had no III will. In fact, I rather liked you. But you must admit that, as a detective, your presence was excessively Inconven ient Now that I know the truth, I welcome yoM as a most valuable ally. I am prepared to trust you absolute ly. Come, what are your plans?" I told him as we walked back to to fhe inn. He expressed himself aa admirer of their simplicity aa we part ed for the night Mad or not, I had found an assistant who would be of great help to me. 8o I let It stay at that and slept like a rock till nine next morning. (CHRONICLES TO BE CONTINUED.)' For Reference. "See that man over there. He is * bombastic mutt, a windjammer non entity, a false alarm, and an encum- berer of the earth!" "Would you mind writing all that down for me?” "Why in the world------ " "He’s my husband, and I should like to use it OU him some time."—Houston Podt JELLIED TONGUE FOR SUPPER Should Stand Twelve Hours Before Using, but Is Well Worth the Time Consumed. Designed for the Street, Made Up in Blue Charmeuse Jellied Tongue.- This is also a nice luncheon or cold supper dish. Boil a tongue tender, so the skin will pull off readily; cut It In thin slices and arrange in a mold lined with the slices of lemon In the bottom Cover with jelly made of one box of gelatin dis solved In a cup of cold water. Add a quart of boiling water, less one cup, the juice of four lentous and two cups ot sugar; stir until dissolved; stralu Into the mold, and set away to hard en. This should stand 1? hours before using. Scotch lloll.—Reutovo the tough skin from about fivo pounds ot flank ot beet. With a sharp knife cut the moat front the thick part and lay It on the thin, mix together two table spoonfuls of salt, half a teaspoontul pepper, one-eighth of teas poo ntul ot cloves and a teaspoonful of summer savory. Sprinkle this over the meat and then sprinkle ou three tablespoon- tula of vinegar Roll up and tie with twino and put away In a cold place for 12 hours. Then place In a stew- pan. cover with boiling water and sim mer geutly for three and a halt hours. Mix four heaping tablespoons flour with half a cup of cold water and stir Into the gravy. Season to taste with salt and pepper and let simmer for an hour longer. Serve hot or cold. CHINA GIVEN ESPECIAL CARE Simple Reason Why the Modern Ar ticle Does Not Last as Long as In the Olden Days. An Idea Is prevalent that modern china Is not as durable as the ¡bins nt our grandmothers' day This con elusion Is drawn by a comparison of the flue old pieces whose color aud gold Is still perfect, with the compar ative short lite of modern sets. But in arriving at the conclusion, we ought ulso to consider the difference In the care given by our grandmothers and that ot the modern housewife. No careless servant was ever entrusted with that precious old china; no strong cleansers were allowed to tar nish its gold; aud every slender han dle was looked upon with especial reverence. "Washing the china" was a sort ot household rite, very differ ent from the ordinary washing ot dishes. One dear, stately old grand mother ot the old school with many servants at her command, never al lowed her finest china to leave the A gown of blue charmsues with green collar and lapels- Special fee- dining-room After It had been used, turee: the sash, very short Jacket and draped eklrt. she cheerfully tied on a big apron, had water, cloth and the towels brought tn, and It was indeed a priv HARMONY ALWAYS A POINT MAKES PRETTY HOME DRESS ilege to watch her graceful, white hands at their task of "washing the 8harp Contraete In L vlng Room Some In Cherry Red Cloth Thle Costume cups” as she invariably expressed It. Would Be Fit for the Adornment thing to Be Avoided by the Up- —Alice Margaret Ashton, In Today's of Any Woman. to-Date Homemaker. Magazine. For thia house dress might be se . A room Is really a plcturo, or nt Roast Apple Parfait. least it should be composed with dun lected red cloth of fine texture. The eklrt la made with a panel Core eight large greening apples and regard to Its esthetic possibilities. The place them In a baking pan, filling the walls aro the background of which down back and a wrapped seam down core cavities with a paste made from doors and windows are a part The front, which la rounded off at tho granulated sugar, half a teaspoontul furniture Is in the middle distance and foot to show a small pan««! of braided satin In a delicate shade of gray. each of ground cinnamon and grated the family furnishes the foreground. The bodice has n yoke and deep nutmeg, a teaspoonful of lemon juice It is evident that If the wall paper and two tablespoonfuls of malted but Is figured conventional designs are al cuffs of this; tho aides and upper ter Bake the apples until they are ways best and the designs should be part of sleeves are cut Magyar and very tender and rub through a puree worked out in varying tones of the sieve to remove the skins. Allow the dominant color. This dominant color fruit pulp to become very cold, and may be any that lends itself charming then fold In the whites of three eggs, ly to Interior decoration. It should bo beaten until light and dry, and a pint soft, rich and beautiful In Its varying of cream whipped solid. Taste to see shades. It Is not enough that It should blend if more sugar is required, flavor with a wineglassful of sherry and freeze to a with carpets and curtains or contrast smooth, firm consistency. This des harmoniously with them, it should be sert may be served In any preferred favorable as a background to the per form, but It Is very attractive packed sons who make the main part of the in small cases resembling rosy apples picture, it should bring out the flesh (these may be purchased at any con tones, or at leaet not spoil them, and fectloner's) and served In Individual it should not clash with the colors of portions, resting on lace paper doilies. the garments worn by those who pass their time within the four walls of the room. Moreover, it should simplify the Delicious Boneless Birds. One and one-half pounds ot round lighting problems, whether tho posi steak, four slices of bacon, one grated tion of windows or the effect of elec onion, seasoning of salt and pepper, tric lamps Is taken Into consideration. three tablespoonfuls of butter or drip ping, one pint of boiling water, one tablespoonful of browned flour. Pound the steak, then cut It into pieces about four Inches square. I^y on each square a small piece of the bacon and a little of the onion, roll up and fasten with a string or with a few toothpicks. Melt the butter or drip ping. then brown the steak In It, add the flour, salt, pepper and boiling wa ter. Cover and simmer for two hours Remove the strings or toothpicks be fore serving.—Ladles’ Home Journal SETTING FOR TOILET TABLE Various Dainty Accessories Are Of fered for the Fancy of the Wom an Who Likes Pretty Things. Very lovely are the cut-glaes salt bottles with square stopper of en ameled on silver gilt In the dntntlost and most artistic designs, while the large cut-glass perfume bottles have enamel stoppers and tops, the enamel generally toning with the prevailing color of the room. A sliver ruler with Inch and centi meter measurement, which holds rub ber, pencil afid pen when the end la taken off, also finds a place In tho boudoir. And a new paperweight In the form of a ruler with a handle In the center, the Inch and centimeter measurements being marked thereon. Is amongst tho latest of useful femi nine trifles. 8mothered Mutton. Cut in small pieces as much raw, lean mutton as desired. Slice 7 small potatoes thin, peel 4 large onions. In a baking dish put a layer of mutton, sprinkle with onion, salt, pepper and dots of butter. (Butter may be omit ted.) Cut bread In dice, dry In oven and use for next layer, or use only po tatoes. Fill the dish with layers, mak Ing the top one of bread It Is nice Veils Now Often Discarded. to use bread only for the top. Onion Veils are very much loss worn than extract may bo substituted for th« they used to bo In past seasons. They vegetable. Turn over all one and one | are less easy to wear with very small half cups of hot water. Bake slowly hats, for the simple reason that they may easily touch the eyes or at least Pressed Veal. the eyelashes; but, since the extreme Boil one 15-cent veal shank with one ly small hat Is specially reserved for onion, one clove, one-half bay leaf and the very young woman, she may well plenty of salt and pepper until the permit herself to meet the full glare meat drops to pieces and a little liquid of daylight in tho street without sny la left. Take out all the gristle and softening veil. Besides this, some hy bone and mince. I*ut Into a bread tin gienic people pretend that the veil Is lined with oiled paper, with one sliced harmful both to the complexion and cold hard boiled egg and a little the sight, and, while it Is also true chopped parsley on the bottom, and that the contrary opinion la held, the press the meat down firmly. Pour devotee of fashion will follow her own over It just enough liquid to cover. personal opinion without bothering Let ft stand two hours, turn out and her head about any other,—Parle Edi slice. tion of New York Herald. laid on with wrapped senms; mate rial Alls In the space below yoke; a black satin ribbon Is takon round tho waist and arranged to hang in a bow and end in front. Materials required: 3'4 yards cloth 48 Inches wide, K yard satin 40 Inches wide, 3 dozen yards braid, 2 yards satin ribbon. Cotton In Netting. One bride la making her comfort ers In an unusual way, saya Good Housekeeping. Hhn Incloses the cot ton batting tn mosquito netting, tack ing it here and thee«. Then she slips this Into Its outside cover. When the cover is soiled it Is very easy to rip open one end and remove the cot ton and also aa simple to put thq .whole together again.