The RedMirage A Story of the French Legion in Algiers By LA. R.WYLIE (AH rights reserved. The Bobbs-MerriU Co.) SYNOPSIS. Sylvia Omney, her lover, Richard Far iuhar, finds, has fallen in love with Cap tain Arnaud of the Foreign Legion. In Captain Sower's room Farquhar forces Sower to have Preston's I O. U's re turned to him. Farqnhar is helped to his rooms by Gabrielle Smith. Sower demands an apology. Refused, he forces Farquhar to resign his commission in return for possession of Farquar's father's writ ten confession that he had murdered Sow er's father. Gabrielle saves Farquhar from euicide. To shield Arnaud, Sylvia's nance, tarqunar proteases to have stolen war plans and tells the real culprit why he did so. As Richard Nameless he joins the Foreign Legion and sees Sylvia, now Mme. Arnauu. meet Colonel Destinn. Farquhar meets Sylvia and Gabrielle, and learns irom corporal uoetz or trie col onel's cruelty. Arnaud becomes a drunk ard and opium smoker. Sylvia becomes friendly with Colonel Destinn. Arnaud becomes Jealous of Farquhar. A beautiful woman, tired of tier husband, flirts dangerously with his superior and with his Inferior In rank. With the In ferior she is somewhat in love, yet she sees her husband go to shoot the lover without giving any sort of warning. Is she cruelly indifferent, or does she look upon this as a good way to get rid of temptation? CHAPTER VIII Continued. Sylvia Arnaud came out into the clearing. She was still singing a lit tle louder than before, as If in defiance of a reawakening dread and In the sudden hush her voice sounded lurlngly sweet. "Vlens pros de moi, viens plus pres encore, ' Mon amour t'appelle " The passing shadow stopped midway between darkness and darkness. The light was on them both. There was a smothered exclamation. A revolver shot rang out and all was quiet again The last echo of song hung in the vi brating air. Then slowly, the mun standing against the light, sank to gether into a limp piteous heap. Col onel Destinn raced across the Interven ing space. His Indifference was gone. He cursed somberly. "The insolent devils One of my ruf fians one of my ruffians name of God." He lifted the unconscious head against his shoulder, his experienced hands wrenching open the breast of the heavy military coat. Sylvia Arnaud crept up to him. Her face was ashy and expressionless, like that of a sleep walker. He waved her impatiently aside. . "Don't stay here. There may be some more of them. As you value your life, run back to the villa and give the alarm. Ah!" He sprang to his feet instinctively, placing his body between her and the three men who had started out of the darkness. His hand had flown to his pocket. "Who goes there?" "The patrol, my colonel." "Goetz you?" A sharp sigh of re lief broke from between his set teeth. Then he drew himself up. The red-hot race froze to a deadly precision. "How did you come here?" "We were warned by a lady, my colonel." "You heard that shot Did you see no one?" "Yes, my colonel." "And did you not lay hands on him?' "My colonel, it was beyond my duty. It was Captain Arnaud." CHAPTER IX. Justification. Colonel Destinn bent over the map spread out before him In an attitude of concentrated attention. It was an unusual-looking map, roughly outlined and almost destitute of the ordinary network of mountains and rivers. , At the top a single town bad been marked, and from thence downward there ran a dark red line, almost undeviatlng, which cut the upper part of the white linen in two distinct halves. On either side of this line there were towns marked and the beginnings of water ways, but in no Instance did these ex tend beyond an inch on either hand. It was as though the red line had ab sorbed everything, and that what lay beyond Its Immediate radius was of no account, a blank white waste of de populated country. The lower part of the map had been painted yellow, and there the red Uns faltered and broke ' off. Colonel Destlnn's pencil hovered over the Jagged end, and his brows were knitted into an expression of thwarted Impatience. On the other side of the table an elderly man wearing the uniform of a French army doctor sat and stroked his neatly-trimmed beard with a reflective hand. From time to time he glanced doubtfully at his companion, and at last, receiving no attention, gave vent to ar apolo getic cough. "I am afraid I have come at an in opportune moment," he said. "You are busy. The matter Is of really no importance." Destinn started and looked up. "ParHnn m. I was absorbed in a difficult calculation. You are mistaken. The matter la of importance. LIf Is no doubt cheap out here, but economy has to be practiced even In cheap things. Besides, order has been estab lished in Sidl-bel-Abbes, and any act of wanton aggression must be pun ished with a hard hand. You say the bullet has been extracted?" "Yes." "Did it suggest anything to you?" The doctor shrugged his shoulders. His small brown eyes had shifted from the colonel's face to the floor. It forced me to the conclusion that the assailant was in possession of an army revolver stolen, without doubt." Without doubt," Colonel Destinn agreed. "The man Is doing well?" "As well as can be expected. There was considerable loss of blood follow ing on the extraction. Also fever." Next week I am taking a fresh batch with me down south to the pres ent terminus. Will our English friend be in a fit state to bear us company?" "Undoubtedly If he is not sent back to his regiment for the present. Other wise " His expression was signifi cant. At that moment Captain Arnaud en tered and he got up stiffly., Destinn glanced over his shoulder. Ah. eood morning Well. I shall not detain you any longer, doctor. In the course of the day I may have a look at the sufferer, and I shall then give further orders. The culprit you can leave to me. Sit down, won't you, Arnaud?" The young officer remained standing. He returned the doctor's greeting me chanically and his features were blank. As the door closed Colonel Destinn threw down his pencil and their eyes met. "Sit down." This time Arnaud obeyed. The elder man bent forward with his chin rest ing on his hand. "In the ordinary course of events I should have had you arrested last night," he said. "If I did not do so It was because there was something un usual In the case that interested me. Even in the Legion madness has its method. A man in your position does not go out of his way to shoot down a poor harmless devil .without reason. You had a reason and I wish to know it." For God's sake, don't jest with me! Do what you mean to do and have I Jest With God's Sake, Don't Me!" mercy enough not to turn this business Into a burlesque. If it Is a confession you want " Destinn rose, and his heavy fist rest ed clenched on the table. "I have nsked for your Justification," he said. "For ten minutes I am pre pared to Judge you by my own laws. It Is an offer worth accepting, Arnaud." "He Is my enemy." "For what reason?" "There are only two reasons pos sible. When we bate, it is either be cause the object has Injured or bene fited us unbearably. I have both these reasons to Justify me." "You have still five minutes to ex plain, Captain Arnaud." "Explain! He laughed, and in his laughter there already sounded a note of suffering becoming intolerable. "Ex plain In five minutes what It has taken months for me to realize my God and yet it Is simple enough. A woman the eternal cause, tho eternal expla nation!" "Your wife?" "Who else?" "I have beard rumors. Arnaud." "I have lost my wife; I lost her months ago I never possessed her. It was a dream. She fell In love with me on a moonlight night when the regi mental band played in the Cercle and there was glamour and color every whereover Sldl-bel-Abbes, over me, over my life, over my love for her. We know that glamour, my colonel. It makes madmen out of us. It blinded her. I followed her to England while the glory of it all was still strong in her imagination. I made her throw over the man to whom she was virtual ly bound " "The man whom you tried to mur der last night?" "You're right you guessed right That was the man. I made her break with him. It would have been a damnable thing to have done if I had known but I never knew for certain. I refused to see for myself, and she never told me. Perhaps, anyhow, it wouldn't have mattered. All's fair in love, and I didn't care who suffered. But that wasn't all. I was In debt. An international spy had got hold of and bribed and threatened me al ternately. To get out of his clutches, I gambled like a fool and lost lost all the time. At last I yielded. I made use of my friendship with an English officer to get hold of what I believed to be' valuable information. Oh, I did it badly enough. They found me out and there wasn't an inch between me and ruin. God knows what would have been the end. I Just sat there and waited for them to make up their minds. The man I had ousted was op posite me, and I waited for him to laugh. He came forward and accepted the responsibility. You understand he was one of them, and he tied their hands. His friend held the door open for him and he went out. It was all done in a minute. I was saved. "I paid. It was true my wife's ideal had been saved but only for the time. Little by little she got to know me and to compare. Oh, she said nothing; but I saw it, heard it, felt it in every movement, every look, every tone. The man she had cast off became the hero, the realization of her dreams, and I was what I had been from the begin ning & neurotic weakling in a uni form, a roue who had kept clean for her sake. She shrank from me and I knew she hated me. And he was in my power. I don't know whether I meant to kill him or not. I had ceased to think. Last night chance had the reins, rerhaps at the last mo ment I might have held back, for the thing sickened me but I saw her. She stood opposite him in the moonlight and she was smiling. I heard him call her name and then it was all done in a flash I shot him down." The dry cracked voice broke off. Arnaud staggered to his feet his hands outstretched in a movement of tragic resignation. "That Is my explanation. Make an end," he said. Colonel Destinn did not move. In the yellow sun-scorched atmosphere his own face looked livid, and there were fresh lines about the mouth which gave' it a deeper, more ruthles power and concentration. The pencil with which he had been playing lay snapped In half in the middle of the table. "Your ten minutes are over, and you have Justified yourself," he said. "You are free." "You are liberating a madman. What I have done I shall do again" "What Is that to me?" said Colonel Destinn, smiling. . They watched each other in silence. In Arnaud's eyes there were fear and incredulous question. He made a vague uncertain movement as though groping through darkness. Then came the sud den Inevitable collapse of an exhausted personality and the man was once more the automaton, the instrument of a pre dominating will. Without a word he saluted and turned and staggered from the room. CHAPTER X. A Grave Is Opened. It was midday. All Skll-bel-Abbes seemed to be asleep. The streets were almost empty, and a lazy hush hung over the deserted cafes where a few indefatigable tourists dozed beneath the gnyly striped awnings, watched over by waiters themselves half coma tose with sleep and Indifference. In the Cafe du Tonkin the repose was absolute and unashamed. There was only one watcher. Presently foot steps sounded on the stone flags out side. She got up and crossed the un even floor to the door. Her movements were lithe and noiseless like an ani mal's, and not one of the heavy sleep ers stirred. In the narrow passage which led from the street to the en trance of the cafe a man In European dress waited for her. There was some thing furtive and restless in his movements that suggested a fear more subtle than that of dan ger. The girl touched him on bis arm, and without a word he followed her across the room of sleepers through a curtained doorway into a second apart ment Here there was no door or win dow. A charcoal brazier burned in the center, and its dull sullen glow lighted up the shadows and revealed phantom outlines of low divans and oriental tables, and bid their dirt and disorder in soft mysterious twilight The girl put her hands upon her companion's shoulders and looked up at him. He had removed his hat and the somber light spread a pale repel lent reflection over bis white features. It was as though an artificial life had been conjured into the face of a dead man. "You are changed, Desire. What has happened In these days? Has there been no comfort for you?" His eyes opened. He threw back his head so that they looked each other In the face. Boys Often Spend Too Much Money on Girls By LAURA JEAN LIBBEY (Copyright, 1916.) Pleasures are like poppies spread You seize the flower, He bloom is shed! Or like the snowflake in the river A moment white, then melts forever. f - The most foolish course a young man who works hard to earn his money can pur sue is to lavisn his earnings on girls, with the hope of making himself popular with them. He could make no greater mis take, for the very girls who accept his ice cream and bonbons, theater tickets, etc., are the ones who give him the name of spendthrift. They infer that he can not keep what he earns, and they might as well have the benefit of It as anyone. If by springtime he has not been able to save enough to buy a new suit of clothes even Inexpensive ones the girls on whom he lavished his money will be the first to comment on his shabbiness, and decline to be seen in his company. Popularity that is, the honest kind cannot be bought. It is given spon taneously and for sterling worth. A sensible young man measures his garment according to his cloth, as the old saying goes. That is, he lets a crowd of Jolly girls who expect to be "treated" every time they happen to meet a man, severely alone. That is a sufficient and dignified rebuke to girls who suggest they'd like a soda, etc. The majority of iren are too sensi ble to buy popularity. They would rather Just one nice girl would ad mire them, one who would have her dinner before they started out for a stroll of an evening or to the theater, and would refuse to gorge herself after the show at his expense. ' The greatest fear many a mother feels is that her boy is spending too much money on girls. It sets the pace for reckless living and has brought many a well-meaning youth to ruin. A girl who accepts the attentions of a young man who she knows earns his money by toil should study the situation before she accepts an invi tation from him that calls for a car riage If she wears her pretty, filmy party dress. She should know teat he could afford such extravagance only now and then. If she really has his interest at heart she will wear a dress that cannot spoil or that laun dering will make as good as new, and either take a car to their destination or walk If the distance Is not too great and the weather is fine. A inan can well understand such a girl will make a good, prudent wife. His earnings would be safe in hsr koeplng. If an employer finds that a young man has not been able to lay by a dollar of his earnings for a twelvemonth, his declaration that he had spent it all on girls would bring him sharp criticism, and the state ment would sound almost unbelieva ble. . In looking backward, reckoning all the money spent uselessly on girls, no wondir the squanderer grows bit terly angry with himself. It has been a case of a fool and his money. It does not take some men very long to learn their little lesson. Others are years in finding out that the saving, industrious man, who knows how to take care of his bank roll has far out distanced him even in the opinion of the frivolous girls. Money is hard to earn. It Bhould not be allowed to sift through a man's poc'kot like sand3 In the hourglass. It Is a man's reputation for prudent ly saving which brings him respect, admiration and popularity in a community. SAY WORKER MISSES MUCH The Sport Hat Despite the fact that pocket3 are very generally in evidence In dressy suits, as well as on sport garb, the designers of accessories have advanced little bags made to match hats, and usually evolved in colors that offer decorative contrast with the costume. One of the latest Ideas is shown In a Paris hat, which is of maroon-colored suede In sailor shape and which has a crown of white kid. This hat is accompanied by a bag of the suede, which has a cut-out design In brown and white matching the band on the hat. Another expression of the same Idea is a hat of taffeta with a very high crown, made of platted taffeta and caught through the center with a col ored velvet ribbon. Many College Presidents Averse to Students Being Employed While Obtaining an Education. Becky Sharp was the first society woman on nothing a year. She made the phrase famous and the fact infa mous. But there are circumstances under which nothing a year can be a blessing. The secretary of the Christian asso ciation at the University of Pennsyl vania announces that over 300 Penn sylvania men are already supplied with work to help them through their college year. In other colleges, per haps in every college, men are being so aided to get their education. And a surprising number of these men have literally nothing a year besides the income from their work. There will always be a serious doubt in the mind of college men whether working one's way through college really pays in the end, the Philadel phia Evening Ledger says. College presidents have frequently been quot ed as advising students to borrow while they are at college so that their minds and their time may be free for their college work and pleasures. The two together make up a college life. A book education without a social edu cation is hardly worth having. The college man who works his way through misses much, to be sure, in social contact, in the graces of inter course with other men. His college Is chiefly a place for lectures and "exams." The larger education he gets, in pursuit of his tuition fees and room rent, is hardly of the polished and suave kind which college should bring. It differs not at all from what he will meet later on. College as a preparation for living ought to be broader than any one life. As a foundation for character It ought to be broader than any career. That is why the man who works his way through really loses because he iden tifies college with life too Boon. WRONG IDEA ABOUT WORDS CHILD MUST BE TRAINED TO MAKE OWN DECISIONS By SIDON1E MATZNER GRUENBERG Writer Claims Old Impression That They Express Thought Is Sim ply a Delusion. Our molders of opinion our preach ers and politicians and editors and publishers are not Bpeaklng in order so much to convince us as to make us act or vote or feel with them. Their words are chains of phrases, strung together almost undesignedly, with a view of pulling us to the cause or party or Idea they are supporting. It is a curious delusion that words express thought, the New Republic re marks. The object of most words 1b to short-circuit thought. Phrases like democracy, liberty, militarism, the principles of Justice and humanity, are not primary meanings at all. They are epithets hurled at us to arouso some desired resentment, or they are spotlights guaranteed to create cer tain warm emotional glows of assent In the mind which receives them. It is the reaction they touch off that makes them significant, not their meaning. WordB are such deadly things not because they mean some thing, but because they get wrapped up with our emotion and pull It up with them when they are seized. In support of the articulate emotion there may be any number of highly rational arguments which have come first. It Is the antagonism or the glow of approval, while tho evidence has grown almost vegotatlvely around the emotion. Can bad woman have an honest love? Can she be truer In her affection for man than that man's wife? la Arnaud, played with by hit doll wife Sylvia, at all excusable In going to the Jewess? (TO W& CUMIMHU.). "Those other boys might be so rough or careless In their speech!" O' F all the weak, Inconclusive, modern parents is this what we've come to?" said Professor Marshall to his wife after a sceno with their eighteen-year-old daughter,. In Dorothy Canfleld's new novel, "The Bent Twig." After eighteen years of "training" Sylvia manifests a desire to do what other young people are doing, to drift with the majority, to enjoy people and pastimes not approved by her parents. Having allowed their daughter to make decisions all these years, in tho hope that she would thus learn to make right decisions, the father cries out helnlesslv when her decision In the first really serious situation is opposed to the parental Judgment. He is tempted to appeal to "parental author ity." We must reach out the hand to pull her back, or Bhe will make a hor rible mistake! But the mother sticks to her prin ciples. They had taught their children to think Independently, and now It was Impossible to use force. They had tried to give the children standards of conduct and by these they would stand. She had faith that In a crisis these standards and Ideals would pull her through. The most that parents can do for their children Is to give them stand ards and Ideals that will serve In emer gencies as well at In the routine of life. But how often are we tempted to lose faith In our own teachings, and to resort to lock and key, as was Pro fessor Marshall! How often do we see no choice but that between force and perdition! As we become more experienced In this business of parenthood our feel ing of responsibility grows upon us, we realize bow much better our Judg ment Is than that of the children, we realize more and more the dangers and the temptations that beset them. And of course we wish to save them from these dangers, we wish to give them the full benefit of our su perior Judgment. But there is a limit beyond which the child simply will not profit from the wlBdom of others, except In a negative way that la, In the way of doing nothing at all. Nor should we deny the child the privilege of acquiring his Judgment by means of the kinds of experiences that have given us our Insight. At any rate, we cannot save the child by building a fence around him, as the mother of a ten-year-old boy tried to do, to protect him from the rough manners and "bad language1 of other boys. The mother had kopt the child with hor almoBt constantly, when he was not In echool. In time she contrived to delegate portions ol this burden to paid deputies. When It was suggested to the mother that the boy might profit more from out door games and the companionship of other boys, she expressed the fear that some of thoso "other boys" might be so rough, or so careless In their speech! If the home Is not capable of com pensating for the roughness of boys and the giggles of girls, he will surely not be saved by padlocks and shutters. For a few years this mother will be ablo to shield her child from the In considerate rudeness of the world out side, Just as sho was shielded In her youth. But in the absence of a will and a steadfast purpose, her child will either succumb to the temptations that are sure to come when ho gets beyond his mother's protection, or he will be obliged to retire for the rest of his days to tho only kind of life for which tho Becluslou and darkness have fit ted him. By tying the hands you may keep one from doing harm, but you cannot thus destroy the desire to do the objec tionable deed. It Is better to leave the hands free, and to train thorn to de what you approve. He Knew Their Weakness. During the reign of Louis XV oi France the light chaise came into fash Ion, and great ladies of Paris were ac customed to drive In them about tho city. But beautiful hands are not al ways strong ones; accidents began to occur more and more frequently In the streets. Consequently, says Das Buch fuer Alle, the king bosought the min ister of police to do something, since the lives of pedestrians were constant ly in danger. "I will do whatever Is In my power," replied the police minister. "Your majesty desires that these accidents cease entirely?" The king replied, "Certainly." The next day there appeared a royal ordinance that ordored that, in the fu ture, ladles under thirty years of age should not drive chalsos through the streets of Paris. That seems a mild restriction; but It is said that scarcely a woman from that time on drove hor own chaise. The police minister know that few women would care to adver tise the fact that thoy were over thirty and that the rest would probably be too old to drive, anyway. Gilbert Stuart. Qllbert Stuart (1755 1828) was born In Narragansett, II. I., the son of a snuff-grinder. At the age of fifteen, without any Instruction whatever, he began to paint portraits that attract ed the attention of a young Scotch artist named Alexander, who took him to Scotland in 1772. In 1774 he re turned to America, where he re mained for a year. Ho went back to ' London In 1775, and for a short time be played the organ In a small church. In that city. In 1778 he entered the studio of Benjamin West as a pupil, but later set up a studio of bis own, and remained working thoro for some years. He came back to this country once more In 1792, and painted many portraits in New York and Philadel phia, among them the famous "1796 Washington." In the year 1806 he sot tied In Boston. His fame rests large ly upon bis many portraits of Washington,