The Lord of Thunder Gate
BUYINO A WIFE
BTNOPBIB In a low drinking
place In Japanese town of
Mttaglrl, Kayama, dissolute son
•f the wealthy Aochl, 1-ord of
(be Thunder Gate, boaat* of a
girl he la to purchase (with gold
stolen from his father). Follow
ing a fight In the place, a drunken
white man, speaking perfect Jap
anese. Is left unconscious. Kaya
ma. hi* father's anger,
sees a way of escape. He change*
clothes with the unconscious
white man (to whom he bears a
remarkable resemblance), leaving
S note In the garment* promising
bltn food, ahelter and money If
b« will Impersonate him Kaya
saa) for a time. Leaving. Kayama
is robbed and slain. The white
man. as Kayama, I* taken, un
conscious, to the hotf*e of Aochl.
Hl* name Is Robert Wells. Wells
(who wa* born and pa**ed his
cblldhood In Japan) awnkes be
srtldered. but to familiar scenes.
In Aochl's hotise. Aochl. almost
stghtle** from a*e, doe* not per
ceive the deception. He had de
termined his unworthy son *hould
be put to death, but Welts' de
portment leads him to think a
reformation Is possible.
CHAPTER ll—Continued
As they walked down the corridor
Weill wits thinking as quickly as hi*
■raddled head would permit. What
had Mlsakn railed him? Kayama!
What hud- thl* servnnt called him?
Kayama. That thing he'd seen—or had
he dreamed It? —last night; that god.
thunder god. The god of Kaya-
SBM'S house, of which his nurse had so
eften told him In his hahy days. He
. . . . confound It, he'd see It
through, for a tltne, anyhow.
A curious look of malignant hatred
and Incredulous, pleased surprise was
ma Aochl's face. Wells saw that the
•id Japanese's eyesight must be fall
ing, for he constantly screwed up his
eyebrvw* as If toTr>eer more closely.
"Is It true that you chastised Itola,
fee Inn keeper?"
Wefla bowed. "That Is the truth —
nj Anker."
"Where," the old man asked grimly,
"la the gold?"
"Gold?"
"Gold! A bag of It. Come, where
fc It hidden?"
"1 have no gold, father."
j This Awhl pondered over. He con
sidered the matter long, so long tHat
■nelly his aged mind shifted and his
Care lit up. "Of what were we talk
lag'? 1 remember. Of Itola.. Ael! I
woukf have seen It. My servnnt told
mm. Teur open hand was like the
lightning. It closed as it struck.
Kola's eyes blinked. He descended to
Boor. That trick you must have
Isarned In another country, Kayama.
It Is well that you learned something
good. I had fears of that trip. I have
Mt liked your .epeech. It Is Just a
trifle halting, nkls not so crisp as It
should be." W
Mt scratched hi* head. "Come
Amt, son. It would seem that your
arm is bl guer than It bM been, but
Mm ro>-n of our house are powerful
an. Ksyama."
lie preased Wells' bandaged arm,
said the white msn winced, immedi
ately Aochl's expression changed.
-too are aahamed," he announced.
"Ad I jnlafortune to ray houael that
■Mb a tiling ahould occur. To be
tfvued to my very gate by the hus
•nd et a rice picker. To'have bar
•wed with him for her loat honor.
Mtber than take a knife . ... to haggle
enr the puyment over a alngle gold
give* ... to fear to tight, thua Buffer
tag"—be pinched the arm agiln—Ta
Mn arm and"— forefinger probing
—J'thls cut above your eye. And yet
flw Inn keeper waa a stronger man.
... I de not underatand It, Ksyama.
And I am tired from ao much talk."
Wells smiled. "Perhaps l*have been
aMmraated, my father. Think that
*ta Is a . . . wlaer, different son re
taraed to you, by the goodness of the
fafla. That the troublesome fellow
wfce wss Kayama Is gone."
Aochl reached a clawlike hand to
—id Wella/'and opened the neck of
Ae kimono. '
-"AeIP he cackled. "There la the
%htalng mark. It seems mors red.
Angry. Let ns that s miracle haa
tee* brought about.' That the gods
feat* given you sense."
From behind-4i!m he drew s long
■ward: Wella saw tlie llona of Shinto
which swarmed., the sheath and
crawled about-Me exquisite hilt
, This," Aochl lifted the blade,
>malted yon, Kayama: Now the old
•ap la gone, ft thing of the paat" (In
flsed a body waa floating down the
that runs paiTitbe Inn of (be
fWe Pearl, to r*aW(t Isst upon s
Matting bank of mud> "and the honor
Mmy house Is thus sppeased. I grow
Jhnrtful. Kayama."
Too ahould reat, father."
"That Is true. 1 have not slept 1
wM retire for rest snd devotion. I
very tired."
M the door he paused. "Also very
lappy In my new son," he added. and
aff pleaaed with his conceit.
**ey found him, just before the
Imw far the noonday meal, prostrate
Mkrr the household shrine, his wrin-
KM face smiling. Aochl had complet
ofl she last stage of the ceaseless Jour-
M- Telling Wells, between muffled
aaaCa and crtaa, each member of the
fcssaehaM msde obeisance to the new
L*rl of the Thander Gate, Kayama-
VMts' besd whirled. Old stories'
tsM through his mind; the takes of
IJhsA* the nurse. Ha marshaled them
MBaM he mid Into aa orderly array.
JMH. obviously. was no time for con
'• ■/ '" ' •
t SS. '. \ • i- ■ •:
By SIDNEY HERSCHEL SMALL
(Coprrici* by Tha Bobfas-McrrUl Cfcf
fesslon—to whom, Indeed, should he
explain the tale, and who would be
lieve? He had been accepted aa Ka
yama by the Tiead of the house. He
. . . he was Kayama . . . for a bit,
anyhow. He crossed the floor slowly,
returning with a naked sword, which
he laid across the dead man's arms,
to keep away evil spirits. Tapers were
lit, incense curled In the hot close air
of the room. Servants hid away th®
household shrine. Finally a screen,
green, covered with flying herons of
gray, was placed about the body, and
Kayama returned to his room.
The ancient servant maid awaited
him.
"I wns a season older than the
lord," she greeted Wells. "The willow
has outlived the pine." She bustled
about with many unneedful steps, pre
paring white garments for Wells to
lon. "I saw Aochl-San's father die.
I have seen Aochl-San die. Who
knows but that you yourself might be
stricken? See to It" —she waggled a
finger at him—"that a little son trot
about this house, Kayama-San."
She held up a white, unembroldered
kimono for him. Wells dropped the
blue kimono he had been wearing to
the floor. The bit of paper fejl with
It, flutterejl: he stooped, seeing writ-,
Ing thereon.
"Read, while I compose tnyself," he
asked the woman. "It Is doubtless of
no Importance. I do not know from
whence It rame."
"My eyes are old, Lord., If It be
nothing, I will burn it in the brazier."
Wells glimpsed the characters for
"Kayama," picked up the paper and
read slowly. Slowly, and with dawn
ing comprehension. "The swine," he
said aloud In English. "Poor old
AocUI! He's happier that I did hap
pen along. Wonder when the beggar
will show up again. What a mesa 1"
"Foreign words, Kayapa-San, on
the day you should be thinking of the
many virtues of your departed father."
the servant chlded. "You have on the
white robe. The priests will be wait
ing."
• Tbe great bell of the Rokume temple
was already reverberating slowly and
regularly, punctuating Wells' wonder
of this unreal situation. Peal after
peal of the great bronze bell shook
through tbe house of the Thnnder
Gate.
Wells took his place In the proces
sion that bad already formed at the
gate of the house. All were white
hooded, and robed In white from head
to foot. There were no relatives, only
tbe men and women servitots of the
house, the leading priest, ringing a
tinny oefl, and Kayama . . . Wells.
The whole affair was dreamlike to
him. Shadowy. Impressions only, yet
unimpressed.
Ryes centered on Wells. Slowly,
trying to remember everything that
Mlsako had told him of (for she bad
been at this very temple many times,
she had ssld), be rose, bowed low, lit
an incense stick and stuck It In a
bronze vase at Aochl's feet. He re
cited, clesrly, the Words of Perfume,
for the departed. These he had
heard and angered his father by re
peating. when he was s child.
Members of the household followed
him, each thrusting a biasing, fuming
bit of Incense Into the bowl, that Aochl
might be wafted away quickly and
safely. Voices broke. Aochl had been
a noble, kind lord, If stern and strict
Who could say what Kayama would
be? Many a prayer was muttered for
the new lord, that the gods give him
wisdom.
"Tour devojtf>3 la pleaalng to ua,"
the head prlMt Informed Wella. "We
feared that yonr Journeya In the aelyo
jln country, might cauae yon to for
get . .
"There will be gold brought to the
temple," Wella said, remembering.
"Gold la not a covering for devotion.
lon will"—emlllng slyly—'"bring the
gold youraelf, Kayama-SanT Tou re
member the pricer*
"It will he ample, honorable priest."
"Ample! The price la likedl"
"None shall complain of the gen
erosity of the Lord of the Thander
Gate," Wella aaJd. provoked by the la
alatence of the other.
The priest looked st him curiously.
"Tou did not spesk of generosity be
fore, fCayama-Han. Tou would have
offered . , . more gold ... for the
maid." Then, suddenly: "Surely yon
hsvs ijot forgot our bargain? The
maid Is ready for you. upon psyment
of the sis rolls of gold. When will
you come for hert"
Wells considered this. A bargain
had apparently been made between
Kfyama and the temple folk. He'd
carry It out. Akf additional servant
more Or less—whst did It matter! He
knew that ahe would be well versed
(for whst Japancae maid la not?) In
the needful duties, It would, alao, be
ssfer to be waited upon by eome one
unacquainted with Kayama. For,
some time, somehow, his masquerade
might totter, and the mask slip. . .'.
"Today I devote to contemplation of
my departed father*a many virtues,
that I profit by them. I will come to
morrow." ,
"With the alx rolla of gold, Kayama
-Banr
"T will bring them."
'I _______
CHAPTER 111
'i* —• •
' Jit la the hoar for bathing," the old
servant told Kayama, when he re
turned.
n am tired." Walla feared that
thla would not aatlafy her.
Bhe, however, brought ■ volume to
him. "Compote yourself, then, Kaya
ma-San. Here la the First Book. Ia
It—so 1 have heard—la written that
to the young should Come the young.
I am old. Ttere ahonld be a gayer
maid waiting Bpon you. She would
drive the sorrow from your eye*. Tell
me. Lord, does not young blood course
In your veins 7"
Wells smiled. "I go to the temple
tomorrow, little mother. It seems that
I am to buy a maid there."
"Those prfests! Much gold you will
pay." Her hands fluttered. "It will
be good to have a maid In the house
again. And a babe."
' Wells thought In excellent American.
"A fat chance," he was thinking.
"Your maid will pray each night
that she be given a man-son," mumbled
on the servant "I will see to It that
she protect your comforts, that each
wish, even thoughts unuttered, be
fulfilled."
Wells shivered. Why hadn't soma
one didn't American
mothers do such things?— Alberta?
Had she ever, daring their engage
ment. considered anything . . . and
hadn't' she been among the first to
condemn him . . . unheard? With a
start he remembered her beauty, only
to find that be considered It as Imper
sonal as a painting.
Footsteps In the hall aroused him.
A priest, shaved of head, a comfort
ably plump fellow, bowed as he shuf
fled Into the room. He refused the of
fered ,cup of tea. Intimating by ges
tures that he wished to speak to Wells
In private.
"Th« abbot has sent me," he whis
pered hoarsely. "There are mission
aries in the next village. They will
view the temple. They have prying
eyes. The abbot wishes you to come
for the maid."
"I am deep in devotion, honorable
priest."
"You will find comfort In your sor
row. Be sure to warn your servants
to be silent until the selyo-Jln depart.
The matter Is Important. Be sure to
bring the gold." •
Why not? Wells thought Better
get It over with. He clapped his bands,
giving orders: he was bringing a maid
to the household. Let none taentlon
it. (Why did the priest say that?)
Prepare for her.
, -The serving-woman harried for a
gay robe. FMerals were forgottA.
Wells was soon ready, and accom
panied the priest.
Already Wells saw the problems at
tendant upon buying a maid. He must
tell her that she fonnd no favor In his
eyes—which would be difficult In view
of the fact that he had bought her.
How could be tell her?
The Jangle of little bells announced
the first prayer hour as he entered the
temple yard. Heavy hangings to
the left of the Idol were brushed
aside, and tbe eldest priest entered.
'♦lt has been decreed," he said gravely,
"that temple-maids iqay be sold, but
only as wives. Later they may bs
relegated to a leaser position. But
each must be properly married. Is
this satisfactory, Kayama-San?" With
out permitting Wells to answer (and
Wells was already thinking of the
form of his protest, having his own
Ideas as to the binding of marriage
ceremonies), he droned Immediately
into tbe ritual, as is proper, for the
bridegroom must not aee the woman
until they are actually married.
Complete, he told tbe shocked Wells
1M had a favor to ask. "The priests
have never seen such a woman, Ka
yama-San. Is It permitted that they
gase upon such beauty, that they
might remember It?"
What difference? Wells nodded as
sent.
Wells saw a second's byplsy. Just
as the curtain parted, that was not In
tended to be seen: the trembling
hands of a priest touching bright hair:
the twisting of a woman's figure as If
to offer combat, then the drooping of
a hopeless, head.
"OoodT he heard the priest say.
"Keep your eyes discreetly to the
floor. Walk slowly," and with guid
ing hand he led the girl Into the room.
Fascinated, Wells' eyee held to the
welrdness of the plctsre, to this rose
In « gstsuma bowl. The prieat was
willing that this moment of awe, of
expectation, be protracted, and, as
was natural, the first upward sweep
of the girl's eyea caught and held the
one bright spot In the room, Wells'
brilliant robea.
The maid eaya ahe la all
white and begs hie forbearance.
Can you Imagine, how ahe comae
to be a alave ef the prieotst
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Sea Gypm«•' Nomms in Boats
The sea gyjtote*. who arc alio called
maw ken ("the sea-drowned folk"), be
long to the Mergul archtpejago, and
the march to {he aea ha* forced them
orat from the mainland to the Inland»
and then to the aea. They conse
quently lire their whole aoclal life at
aee, and while they are healthy, tem
perate, fearleea, peaceful and chaste,
•aye Prof. J. Arthur Thomaon 1A
"What la ManT" the boats, which are
their homea, are • the last word In
dlrtinees to our western potions.
Everything from Ash —their staple
food —to pearf oysters Is cleaned In
the boet Because "anything tin!
would attract the aharks to fatal,
hence nothing la thrown qtertooard.
It la horrible, but Intelligible."—D*
, ttott News. ■ -
/ . ■ • •V,
Tffw AT ftHf A VCE OLEAfrEB r QRAHAM, N. C.
NEGLIGEES AND LINGERIE;
MIDSUMMER'S LOVELY HATS
THE rainbow baa nothing on prta
ent-day lingerie and negligees, when
U cornea to £eing colorful —except that
It began first. In tbe Intimate gar
ment* that women of today choose, all
the tlnta and shades of tbe sky's beau
tiful arc are repeated—and others an
added. Tbe limit of aheernesa and
dalntlnesa liaa been reached In this
field where fine ladles need not prac
tice restraint In the quest of beauty.
The story of negligees Is a long one
und Includes many garment* which
must be sobstantlal, as well aa those
filmy affairs whose mission la first to
be beautiful. One of tbe latter la
shown here, made of georgette crepe
and lace and adorned with narrow rib
bone and ribbon flowers. Negligees of
this kind impress the lighter colors
into their service, and favor pink, or
chid, niie green, French blue, rose,
peach and flame color.
After georgette comes crepe de chine
as a fabric f6r these elaborate types
of the negligee, in the same colors and
made ap In much the same way. This
season there are fine wool crepes, also
In flower-like colors but not so much
ndorned. They are graceful with flow
ing sleeves, and edges finished with
crochet work In silk. The same silk
provides small tassels that punctuate
long lines by furnishing a finish for
narrow girdles or pointed sleeves.
Just a little heavier than these crepes
arc crepe satin and taffeta In change
j£j*L /
■ c
- I
nr«,'
able and plain weave*. Narrow val
lace to much In demand (or trimming
the satin garments and to used In
row*. Square pockets almost covered
with It. and neck and sleeve decora
tions are noted on the new models.
Leaving the company of silk neg
ligees and Joining' that which Is made
up of ootion we fiau new and fascinat
ing patterns a ratine Soft corduroy
:uulntains Its popolarity and to shown
:n lovely rose and purple shades, the
xtronger blues, henna and some darker
tones! Familiar cotton crepes appear
a prettier colors than aver. Plain
garments have collars and bandings
n guy stripes.
Just why Joa* should be, of an
aienths, the favorite for weddings
might be accounted for In aereral ways
—but Its millinery Is reaaon tnoupL
▲long with June come tbe superlative
bats of midsummer —"the fairest thing
In mortal eyes," except tbe malty wbo
wear them. They are tbe roses In the
garden of millinery and nothing else
quite equals them.
Tbe bride Is privileged to pelect tbe
morft picturesque of bats for her
maids—extremes of the romantic types
or period headwear If she chooses. But
It appears to be fashionable to be con
servative this year and wedding pro
cessions reveal tbe lovely midsummer
styles of today vindicating their
choice, leghorns, fine mil ens, halr
bralds. bats of georgette o* mallnes or
Its Misrion First la to B« Baaukiful.
lace, which are to be f And in any rep
resentative collection of millinery. TIM
group pictured here is made up of hats
that will grace the bride's cortege and
be a joy afterward.
It leads off with a fine leghorn In
the natural color, having Its brim
bound with gold ribbon and overlaid
with fluted v'al lace. Upstanding frills
of lace encircle the base of the crown.
Below, a hat with halr-brald brim
and georgette crown is overlaid with
a curious network of crocheted silk. It
has a tie of narrow ribbon about the
crown and roses In several colors
posed against the crown and brlm_One
can imagine It In any of the season's
light colors. Vlelng with the wide
brimmed model is an orchid hat of
Croup of S«MMT Hate.
fancy halrbrald with gorgeous silk
tulips, in orchid and other tones,
drooping from the brim edge. Long
leaves, equally gorgeous, are posed
against the crown.
The winsome poke bonnet with
crinkly straw crown and georgette
brim, cut away at the back, has cap
tured the fancy of many yonthffcl
wearers. It to trimmed with clasters
of rosea in natural colors at esch s'de.
A pretty hat of georgette crepe faced
with braid snd worn with a scarf of
•mallnes also chooses rosea for Its
adornment and this finishes one chap
ter In the fascinating story of mid
summer millinery that will grace June
weddings. JULIA BOTTOM LET.
(O. UK Wauri Nmptnv Date!
SO Days' Fre^jrlal
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Ate Your Best Food
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