-THE
HERMISTON
HERALD,
HERMISTON,
DADDYSEVENING
PETER TRAFT CONFESSES HIS LOVE FOR LYDIA CRAVEN,
SHEEP’S
CLOTHING
By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
"THE
LONE
wolf ."
"THE BRASS
Etc.
CHAPTER VI.
BOWL,’
OREGON.
AND MRS. MERRILEES SHOWS A MAGNIFICENT PEARL
NECKLACE WHICH SHE PROMISES TO GIVE LYDIA
SYNOPSIS.—A well-bred young Englishwoman, nervous and sus
picious, finds when she boards the steamer Aisatta, bound from Liv
erpool to New York, that her stateroom mate is Mrs. Amelia Beggar
staff, a fascinating, wealthy American widow of about sixty years.
The girl introduces herself as Lucy Carteret and says she is going to
America to meet her father. Lucy’s behavior puzzles Mrs. Beggar
staff, who Is vastly surprised to find the girl in possession of a mag
nificent necklace, stolen from a museum some time previously and
passes the news on to her friend. Quoin, a private detective on board.
Lucy, dressing In the dark in her stateroom, hears a mysterious con
versation between two men just outside her window and recognizes
one of them as Thaddeus Craven, her father, whom she hasn’t seen
for five years. She confesses to Mrs. Beggarstaff that she is in reality
Lydia Craven. The girl discovers her father and young Mrs. Mer-
rilees, a charming widow, engaged to be married. Mrs. Merrilees is
bewildered for a moment because Craven bad always posed as a
bachelor, but she and Lydia like one another. Craven tells Lydia he
secretly represents the British government in the United States.
—7—
“There, Peter,” announced Mrs. Beg
garstaff, “there goes a very happy
girl !” Her amazing complacency would
have suited a fairy godmother gloat
ing over some signal beneficence.
Past the deck chair in which she
was reclining, with Peter Traft at her
“It’s like your cheek,” observed
side, arm in arm, Lydia Craven and
Mrs. Merrilees were striding briskly Craven. “Have you mentioned the
aft. Rare color warmed the face of matter to Lydia?”
“Certainly not ! She’s having too
Craven's daughter, mirth danced In her
eyes, a smile edged the pretty lips good a time. Women won’t listen to a
from which the breeze caught a snatch gratuitous lover unless bored or ac
of laughter as musical as singing glass, tively unhappy.”
“Then why bother me with your
and bore it to the ears of her two
lovesick vapors?”
devoted admirers.
“Well, I wanted to see how rusty
“Um-hm,” Peter assented Indistinct
ly between teeth gripping the mouth you’d cut up. Besides, Mrs. Beggar
piece of his pipe. Basking in the staff has discovered my hideous se
warmth of a late Suptember sun, as cret, and Is now busy—or about to
lazily content as any cat, Peter be—distributing handbills.”
“Can’t you shut her up?”
watched the girls swing down the deck
“The law forbids cruel and Inhuman
and disappear round the superstruc
ture. Then he removed the pipe to punishments. Besides, I’m not sure
observe, critically, “Business of taking I want her hushed. I'm not ashamed
of the fact, and if I let the Beggarstaff
all the credit to yourself—eh?”
"Why not?” the Dowager Dragon alone, sooner or later she or someone
demanded with asperity. “Didn't I will mention the matter to Lydia, and
discover who she was and bring her then—well, rouse a woman’s curiosity,
and Tad together? That’s why she's and half your battle’s won.”
Craven turned to Inspect the pair
happy, if you must know—not because
you’ve fallen head over heels In love at the rail. “She might do worse,” he
with the girl and moon around after observed.
“Thanks !"
her like a stray puppy looking for a
“Than Quoin, I mean.”
good home.”
"Curse It !” said Peter, flushing.
"Ouch !” said Peter pensively, and
“I’m in earnest, Tad.”
replaced the pipe.
“I believe you are,” Mrs. Merrilees
With a grim sniff, the Dowager
Dragon withdrew momentarily Into interjected with dispassionate scien
deep thought. “Have you asked her tific interest. “I really believe you
are, Peter. Certainly you were never
to marry you yet?”
“Who—me?” Peter expostulated. so intolerably stupid when In love
with me.”
“Nothing like that !”
Peter, by this time recovered, fixed
“Why not?”
“Too much sense,” Peter explained, her with a reproving glance. “Uttered
In the presence of a third party,” he
rarely sententious.
said severely, “slander Is actionable.
“Whose—hers?”
Merely because I didn't like to show
“Even money you can’t guess.”
my distaste for your infatuated ad
“Yours, of course !”
“There!” groaned Peter. “I might’ve vances, you take up with an emergen
known better than to bet against in- cy ration like Tad here, and then get
sore because I don't forbid the banns—
tuition."
“Why plain intuition, Peter? The peevish child !”
“Just for that,” said the woman,
phrase is rightfully ’feminine intui
“Just for that, Peter, I’m going to
tion.’ ”
“The weed Intuition flourishes only heap coals of fire upon your ungrate-
In the well-known sex. Man, possessed rul head—and heaven knows I hope
of brain, reasons to a logical conclu- they’ll scorch and blister—”
"Marble?” Craven suggested with
•Ion ; woman—bm !—shuts her lovely
eyes, sticks a pin through the card, open incredulity.
"Be quiet. Tad, and run an errand
and if the perforated horse wins,
claims her choice was dictated by a for me, like a biddable child.” Mrs.
mysterious faculty denied to man. The Merrilees loosed the drawstring of a
word itself Is a sort of abracadabra, lacework wristbag, took out a tiny
at mere mention of which fools faint pocketbook, and from this last extract
ed a slip of paper. "Take that to the
and wise men climb trees.”
Secretly charmed, Mrs. Beggarstaff purser and bring me what it calls for.”
With assumed reluctance Craven
wrinkled her nose unbecomingly. “For
heaved up from his place and rolled
once you admit man Is deficient."
Grinning, Peter made a quaint obei- forward, while his fiancee cradled her
•ance, and strolled aft, leaving Mrs. chin In her hand and regarded Peter
Beggarstaff to gnaw her nether Up over with a whimsical smile.
the discovery, too tardily made to be
“Quit It!" he said crossly. “You
turned to his discomfiture, that what haven't got anything on me, you
took him from her was his utter in know.”
ability to rest in ignorance of Lydia
“How about the others?"
Craven's whereabouts. For the two
“Others? I never looked cross-eyed
young women had failed to round out at a girl before this.”
their circuit of the deck.
“Peter I”
Turning past the veranda cafe, at
“Well, hardly ever. And, anyway,
the after extreme of the promenade from now on I'm going to wear a sign
deck, Peter came upon Mrs. Merrilees, board here.” He sketched the site
seated at an adjacent table in com upon his waistcoat :
pany with Craven.
Private. No Thoroughfare. This means
you!
A second glance showed him Lydia
“It seems so funny—you!” Laugh
In the angle of the starboard rail.
ing quietly, the woman looked up to
Quoin at her side.
In response to a hall from Craven, review Lydia with a long glance.
he turned sulkily to that quarter, "She's a dear girl,” she observed.
“Promise never to call me ‘mamma,’
where, at least, a cheerful disposition
wouldn't go unappreciated. Indeed, he and I’ll do my best for you.”
“What chance have I got, with
was welcome. Having privately dis
seminated news of their engagement. Quoin making the pace? He’s a regu
Craven aud Mrs. Merrilees were indus lar fellow—I'm only a drawing room
triously conducting themselves in as entertainer,”
“He's a strange man,” Mrs. Merri
smartly an unloverlike manner as pos-
sible. A tentative third was always lees mused. “If he hadn’t taken up
such an impossible profession—”
encouraged in their company.
“Do you suppose he has a case In
“Sit down there,” Craven insisted.
"The steward'll be back In a minute. hand now ; aboard this vessel, I
I want to talk to you about this mean?”
“Call him, and I’ll ask.”
wretched concert tonight. They’ve
Peter compiled with the best grace
asked me to be master of ceremonies—
imaginable. “Quoin 1 I say, Addison,
awful bore I”
With a fixed, agreeable smile, Peter come over here a minute. A beautiful
sat, drank whatever the steward lady wants to ask you something.”
brought him, automatically consumed In a lower tone he added, “You’re the
Craven's cigarettes, and listened with best little diplomat ever. I’ll be grate-
out the least Interest to the other's ful as long as I live.” And rising with
plans. How could he be interested, the sunniest of smiles, he drew up
with that fellow Quoin monopolizing chairs for Lydia and Quoin.
“Yes, Mrs. Merrilees?" the detective
Lydia? Not that he didn’t like Quoin.
In fact, Peter admired that man tre Inquired, taking the place at her side.
"Peter and I have been bickering
mendously: so much the more reason
about you,” the lady fibbed brazenly.
to fear his influence!
And Lydia, leaning on the rail, a "Are you, or are you not, wasting your
vision more radiant even than the day. brilliant talents on my devoted trail?"
Quoin looked puzzled. “Something
“Well?" Craven demanded with par-
on your conscience ?” he advanced ten-
donable Impatience.
Peter started and batted his eyes. tatively. “You don’t mean to try any
smuggling this trip. I hope.”
“Eh?” he Inquired stupidly.
“I can’t make up my mind, I’d love
“What do you think ?
to. Are you interested?”
“Ah—about what?"
“Only in your interests. Be ad-
“Good heavens!" Craven exploded
a full, deep note of exasperation. vised—don’t !”
“Why?" Mrs. Merrilees pouted.
“Here I sit yammering at you—"
"Sorry,” said Peter. “Fact le—I “Why not if, as Peter would say, 1
know Mrs. Merrilees won’t mind being can get away with
“If for no more moral reason," said
let Into my confidence on the ground
floor—fact is. I’m In love with your the detective seriously, "because It
daughter. Tad. And Quoin's talking can’t be done. The customs people are
to her. So, naturally. I’m sick with laying for you.”
“They’ll be disappointed.”
6 MARY GRAHAMBONNER.
DIFFERENT DAYS.
“Sometimes,” said Peter Gnome, “I
feel very sorry for many days.”
“I don’t at all understand what you
mean,” said Billie Brownie.
“Yes, tell us what you mean,” said
Effie Elf.
“Do you mean,” asked Witty Witch,
“that on many days you are feeling
sorry, or that you really and truly
feel sorry for some of the days we
have.”
“That Is It !” said Peter Gnome. “I
feel sorry for some of the days.”
“Still I don’t understand,” said Bil
lie Brownie.
“Neither do I,” said Effie Elf.
“I think I am beginning to,” said
Witty Witch, “but I would like to have
you explain yourself more clearly.”
“All right,” said Peter Gnome. “I’ll
explain quite carefully.
All gather
around this fine carpet of moss and I
will begin.”
The Elves, Brownies, Gnomes and
Witty Witch all sat on the moss, and
In the center Peter Gnome stood on
the stump of an old tree.
“I can always talk so much better
when I stand,” said Peter, and the
others nodded their heads for they
were In a hurry for him to commence.
“Now,” said Peter, “there is Christ
mas Day ! Just think what a day that
is!”
“The finest in the year,” they all
said.
“There !” said Peter. “Just what I
mean. Now just think of the splendid
thing it is to be Christmas Day. Then
there is the Fourth of July. That’s a
day so many love too. There is
Thanksgiving Day, and St Valentine’s
Day when the Fairy Queen has her
wonderful Valentine party.
And
there are the holidays which come
during the school year and are as
welcome to the children. Yes, there
are just lots of fine days.”
“What about'birthdays?” asked Effie
Elf.
“Well,” said Peter, “they are dif
ferent. Of course, about every day—in
fact, every day in the year is someone's
birthday, but if it is a birthday of some
one we don’t know we don’t think of
it as a birthday. Still it is well to think
each day—no matter how much we dis-
Ike the day—to remember that it is
someone’s birthday, and that someone
is having a party or some nice pres-
ants and perhaps a cake.”
“Then, taking It all In all,” said
Billie Brownie, who was always cheer
ful. “all days are pretty nice.”
“That’s just the part I am coming
“Don't deceive yourself. Every mar
on the force knows It was your ageni
who secretly purchased that three-hun
dred thousand franc pearl-and-dia
mond collar at Cottier's in Paris.”
“But I’ve quite made up my mind
never to stoop to anything so truly
low as smuggling."
Over this virtuous protestation Mrs
Merrilees pursed prim lips belied bj
dancing eyes; then broke down and
joined in a general laugh as Craver
reappeared with a small dispatch bos
of black metal.
“Mayn’t I giggle too?” he inquired
plaintively, looking from face to fact
ns he delivered the box to its owner.
“Not worth repeating,” his fiancee
reported, fitting a key into the lock
“I was merely swearing I meant to be
good—when every blessed drop ol
blood in me cries out against the sin
ful extravagance of paying duty on—
this !”
Opening the dispatch box, she re
moved a handsome jewel case oi
grained morocco, unlocked this In turn,
and disclosed that same necklace
which Quoin had just named, watch
ing with a smile of gratified vanitj
the effect on her four friends.
At length, “Sixty thousand dollars?’’
Quoin inquired listlessly.
“My dear man, I do believe you’ve
seen the bill !”
Smiling, the detective shook his
head.
“Worth half as much again,” Mrs.
Merrilees affirmed. “Cottier wanted
ninety.”
“They seem perfectly matched,
Quoin pursued, knitting his brows ;
“but I'd like to look at them in a
stronger light”
“Take them out into the sun, if you
like.”
Craven sat forward In nervous Im-
patience. “Do be reasonable!” he ex
postulated. “It’s sheer idiocy to have
that thing up here at all, with God
knows who spying! And there are
some queer fish aboard—eh. Quoin?"
"Rather!” the detective agreed
dryly.
“Please be advised !” Craven urged,
"Lock that thing up again and let me
take It back to the purser.”
“Tad, you’re tiresome!” Mrs. Merri.
lees began.
But Quoin interrupted. “Craven is
right.”
“Oh, well ! If you will spoil every
thing, take all the fun out of my sur
prise.”
%
"Surprise?” Peter echoed.
Mrs. Merrilees nodded emphatically
“I Talk Better When I Stand.”
"Look well at them, my friends; for
the minute I get them through the to," said Peter Gnome, “One would
customs, to safe deposit they go and think from what I have said that I
there remain.” She paused deliberate didn't think as I said I did—that I
ly, with a challenging smile.
felt sorry for some days.”
“Why?” Peter demanded blankly,
“Tell us why you do,” said Billie
“Don’t you ever mean to wear ’em Brownie.
Betty?”
“Well,” continued Peter Gnome,
She shook her head. “They’re no! “think of the days when people say,
for me, Peter, If I dared smuggle •Oh, what a horrid day; how can I go
I should wear them, just to be sassj out?’ They are abusing the day. The
about it. But since I don’t dare, J poor day can't help It! It’s the King
mean to keep them for a wedding pres of the Clouds, or the Hall King, or
ent to my stepdaughter—if I ever have the Wind, or something else, but not
one.” She closed the case with a snap the day itself. All those things sim
Lydia sat back with a little gasp ply help to make a day. But the day
her eyes blank with confusion. Quoin gets all the blame. And then you
laughed an odd, brief laugh, and hear complaints that It Is too cold a
glanced askance at Craven. This last day, too warm a day. too windy a day.
turned to his betrothed with a star Always they blame the poor day. Yes,
tied gesture and lips that gaped. Pe I feel sorry for the days very often.”
“It does seem a shame.” said Billie
ter Traft alone betrayed no abnormal
emotion.
Grinning cheerfully, h< Brownie, “that days should get the
watched the two women, absorbed ii blame.”
“It’s seems a shame,” they all re-
each other—Lydia finding breath
enough for the protest, "But, Mrs pea ted.
“And,” said Peter Gnome, as he still
Merrilees, you mustn’t I” the other con
firming her intention with an emphatic stood on the stump telling them all
nod and the statement, “But I’ve made what he thought, “I feel so sorry for
up my mind, dear; so you may as wel the first day of April.. They call ft
How very, very
give me my head. Besides, you prom April Fool's Day !
sad. Don't you suppose the day must
ised always to call me Betty.”
Locking the metal box. she rose feel badly when It is given such a
“Come, Tad. I owe my appetite five name?”
“Oh, no. Peter,” said Witty Witch,
more laps round the deck before lunch
eon. Peter, please take this back t< “you mustn’t feel sorry for the first of
the purser and get his receipt. I April, for that day loves jokes—nice.
you're afraid, Lydia’ll go along to pro funny jokes. It's a jolly day.”
"I’m glad of that,” said Peter
teet you.”
"What becomes of me?” Quoin de Gnome.’ “That makes a great differ
enee. But still I think ii would be
manded with mock truculence.
“You’re to walk the other side of nice If we asked the Fairies and the
me,” the lady ordered imperiously rest of our friends to join a new club
and call It the ‘Every-Day-Is-Nice
"and help me make Tad behave."
Craven breathed heavily. “Whether Club.’ We will nil wear badges and
I like it or not—" With a last relue will promise never to say an unkind
tant glance at the treasure box, he word about a single day. We will like
rose and somewhat sulkily prepared them all, for they are all here to be
nade use of and to enjoy!”
to obey orders.
So nil the woodland creatures and
Fairies joined Peter Gnome's club.
What do you think about this
man Quoin? la he strictly on
the level—or do you suspect him
of connection with the profes-
clonal smugglers aboard?
Sister Was Fond of Music.
Big Sister—Oh, I do hope papa will
take me to the concert. I’m so food of
music.
Brother—Huh ! Then why
don’t you never let me play my drum
In the house?
Little
BARREL HANDBAGS ARE NEXT
Those for Summer Use Must Bo Large
Despite Numerous Pockets Pro-
vided in New Frocks.
Handbags for summer constitute
one of the great, handy, perennial
problems of the well-dressed woman.
But each summer brings Its own solu
tions. Already the matter has been
well thought out for next summer—
both In the way of sports bags and
dress bags. The strange thing is that
these handbags must be large affairs—
just as if milady didn’t have a half
dozen pockets here and there about
her clothes. But the even stranger
thing than that Is that the bags are
to be modeled on the same lines as
are the frocks, and barrel bags will
be quite the thing to match the stave
skirts.
The simplest thing In a sports bag
Is one of sports silk to match or con
trast well with the sports skirt or
sweater. Infinite variations In mate
rial and make are here possible. Fig
ured models in khaki kool are excel
lent. Paisley and beads still hold
good, and will all through the sum
mer. A Paisley bag is a very satisfy
ing finish to a colorful summer cos
tume.
Either Paisley, beads or appllqued
silk In old Indian, Chinese or Russian
designs are the best for dressy wear.
The ramifications are innumerable—
suede on moire, silk on velvet and
many others. Perhaps beaded moire
satin is the most popular. Most of the
bags are made on frames, and many
contain several smaller bags, so that
one of these charming and innocent-
looking accessories nay be In reality
a whole traveling case or the con
cealer Of a bomb.
SASHES
INCREASE
IN
SIZE
Used With Every Kind of Gown and
There Is No Limit to What May
Be Done With Them.
As the sashes grow more ornamental
and Increase in size, the gowns may
merely be accessories to them. The
Japanese obi, which was introduced
by Jenny, has a dozen or more rivals
on every kind of gown, from a sport
suit of jersey to a ball gown of bul-
lion-stamped satin.
There are sashes that wrap around
the waist three times, to outline the
various places where a sash is sup
posed to be ; there are sashes that go
over the shoulders, pass around the
waist, drop down the back of the
skirt, and across over the hem In
front to give a barrel effect below the
knees. In truth, there is no limit to
what Is done with sashes. Splendid
ribbons are used, the kind that were
made by hand in the sixteenth cen
tury. They are beautiful enough in
themselves for gowns, with the addi
tion of a bit of lace or crystals.
POINTED
COLLAR
POPULAR
HAVE ROSY CHEEKS
AND FEEL FRESH AS
A DAISY—TRY THIS!
Says glass of hot water with
phosphate before breakfast
washes out poisons.
To see the tinge of healthy bloom
In your face, to see your skin get clear
er and clearer, to wake up without a
headache, backache, coated tongue or
a nasty breath, in fact to feel your
best, day In and day out, just try In
side-bathing every morning for one
week.
Before breakfast each day, drink a
glass of real hot water with a tear
spoonful of limestone phosphate In it
as a harmless means of washing from
the stomach, liver, kidneys and bowels
the previous day’s indigestible waste,
sour bile and toxins; thus cleansing,
sweetening and purifying the entire
alimentary canal before putting more
food into the stomach. The action of
hot water and limestone phosphate on
an empty stomach Is wonderfully in-
vlgoratlng. It cleans out all the sour
fermentations, gases and acidity and
gives one a splendid appetite for break
fast.
A quarter pound of limestone phos
phate will cost very little at the drug
store but Is sufficient to demonstrate
that just as soap and hot water
cleanses, sweetens and freshens the
skin, so hot water and limestone phos
phate act on the blood and internal or
gans. Those who are subject to con
stipation, bilious attacks, acid stom
ach, rheumatic twinges, also those
whose skin is sallow and complexion
pallid, are assured that one week of
inside-bathing will have them both
looking and feeling better in every
way.
$5.00 Cash
and $2.50 per month
Buys a 50x100-ft. lot, prices from $50 to $100, with
in a few minutes’ walk of the business center of
Bend, Oregon
Bend haa been called the Spokane of Oregon.
Timber, Water Power and Agricultural Lands are
some of the things responsible for its growth.
OPPORTUNITY FOR THE SMALL
INVESTOR IS NOW RIPE
Let us tell you adout it. Call or write
THE BRONG CO.
267% Oak St.,
Portland, Oregon
To Be Sure.
“Shall we cut out prize fighting and
give the space to baseball?” inquired
the editor of the Plunkville Palladium.
“Well,” said his assistant, "the
baseball season started out with a
couple of good scraps. I don't see
why we can’t run ’em together.”—
Kansas City Journal.
The Last Word.
“I suppose your wife always has the
last word in the argument?”
“I dunno,” replied Mr. Meekton,
gloomily. “We haven’t yet gotten
near enough to the end of it to figure
on the last word.”—Washington Star.
Caught on the Fly.
“You are nothing but a big bag of
wind,”-sneered the smart airplane.
The balloon, in its indignation,
swelled visibly. “At least,” it retort
ed, “I am self-supporting."—Boston
Transcript
SICK WOMAN HAD
CRYING SPELLS
Restored to Health by Lydia
E. Pinkham's Vegetable
Compound.
Enhaut, Pa.—“I was all run down and
weak inwardly. I had female troubles
------------- and nervous feelings
and my head both
ered me. I would
C+
1
i 1
The long pointed collar on this
charming beige suit, Ie something new
that may be a predominating fashion
during the summer months. The suit
Is built on long lines, that Is the pre
vailing type for the summer. The col
lar and vestee are of faille. The black
Users hat has a novel slrll veil and la
set off remarkably well by the huge
blue velvet bow.
I was not safe. If
I heard Anyone com
ing I would run and
lock the door so they
would not see me.
I tried several doc
tors and they did not
help me so I said to
my mother ‘I guess
I will have to die as there is no help for
me. ’ ‘ She got me one of your little
books and my husband said I should try
one bottle. I stopped the doctor’s
medicine and took Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound. It soon made a
change in me and now I am strong and
do all my work.”—Mrs. AUGUSTUS
B aughman , B ox 86, Enhaut, Pa.
Why will women continue to suffer
day in and day out and drag out a sickly,
half-hearted existence, missing three-
fourths of the joy of living, when they
can find health in Lydia E. Pinkham’s
Vegetable Compound?
If you would like free confidential ad
vice address Lydia E. Pinkham Medicine
Co-, Lynn, Mass.
How to Clean Oilcloth.
To clean oilcloth, first wash with
warm soap and water, dry it. then
rub over with a little milk and polish
with a dry cloth. The grease in the
milk preserves the oilcloth and keeps
Its color bright
R removí ng
will reduce inflamed, swollen
Joints. Sprains. Bruises, Soft
Bunches; Heals Boils, Poll
.
Evil.Quittor, Fistula and
"
infected sores quickly
Fra
17.
as it is a positive antiseptic
and g ermicid e. Pleasant to
Stains From Hande.
ABSORBINE. JR. the