Newspapers / Daily Herald (Roanoke Rapids, … / Dec. 14, 1923, edition 1 / Page 2
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CHAPTER XVII—Continued. —15— Stewart halted again. In the gloom Madeline discerned a log cabin, and beyond it spear-pointed dark trees piercing ll.e sky line. She could Just make out Stewart’s tall form as he leaned against his horse. Either he v. as listening or debating wlu.t to do— perhaps both. Presently he went in side the cabin. Madeline heard the scratching of a match; then she saw a faint light. The cabin appeared to be deserted. Probably it was one of the many habitations belonging to pros pectors and foresters who lived In the mountains. Stc. art came out again. For a long moment he stood as still as a statue and listened. Then she heard him mutter. "If we have to start quick I can ride bareback.” With that he took the saddle and blanket off Ids horse and ea-ried them into the cabin. “Get off." be said, in a low voice, as he stepped out of the door. lie helped her down and led her in side. where again he struck a match. Madeline caualit a glimpse of a rude fireplace and rotmh-hewn logs. Stew art's blanket and saddle lay on the hard-packed earthen tloor. "Itest a little." he said. "I'm going Into the weeds a piece to listen. Gone only a minute or so." ■m:mii■ in.' iiu-i i" reel rm:n i in rne ch-’i-U to locate the saddle and blanket. V. I i n sl,c lay down it "as with a grateful sense >>f ease and relief. As her body rested, however, her mind became the old throngin : maze for sensation and thought. All day sin had attended to the alert business of helping her horse. Now. what had already happened, the night, the si lence, the j»r< ximlt.v of Stewart and his strange, stern caution, the possi ble happenings to her friends- -all claimed tlie:r due share of her feel ing. She could hot sleep; she did not ( try to. Stewart's soft steps sonnded out side. His dark form loomed In the door. As he sat down Madeline heard the thump of a gun that he laid be side him on the sill; then the thump of another ns he put that down too. The sounds thrilled her. He turned his ear to the wind and listened. Mo tionless he sat for what to her seemed hours. Then the stirring memory of the day’s adventure, the feeling of the beauty of the night, and a strange, deep-seated, sweetly vague conscious ness of happiness portending, ere all burned out In hot. pressing pain at the remembrance of Stewart's dls.'Tace In 1 her eyes. Something had changed within her so that what had been an ger at herself was sorrow for him. He was such a splendid man. She could not feel the same; she knew her debt to him, yet she could not thank him, could not speak to him. She fought an unintelligible bitterness. Then she rested with closed eyes, find time seemed neither short nor long. When Stewart called her she opetred her eyes to see the gray of dawn. She rose and stepped outside*. The horses whinnied. In a moment she was In the saddle, aware of cramped muscles and a weariness of limbs. Stewart led off at a sharp trot Into the fir forest. They came to a trail into which he turned. The horses traveled steadily; the descent grew less {Keep; the firs thinned out; the gray gloom brightened. When Madeline rode out of the firs the sun had arisen and the foothills rolled beneath her; and at their edge, where the gray of valley began, she saw a dark patch that she knew was the ranch house. • CHAPTER XVI11 The Sheriff of El Cajon. tAbout the middle of the forenoon of that day Madeline reached the ranch. Her guests had all arrived j there late the night before, and want- i ed only her presence and the assur ance of her well-being to consider the last of the camping trip a rare adven- ! tuna. They reported an arduous ride j do\vr» the mountuin, with only 'Tie in cident to lend excitement. On the descent they had fallen In with Sher iff Ilawe and several of his deputies, why were considerably under the in fluence of drink and very greatly en- 1 raged by the escape of the Mexican ; girl Bonita. Ilawe had used Insult ing language to the ladles and. ac cording to Ambrose, would have In convenienced the party on some pre text or other if he hud not been sharply silenced by the cowboys. Madeline’s guests were two days in recovering from the hard ride. On the third day they leisurely began to prepare for depurture. This period was doubly trying for Madeline. Her sister and friends were kindly and earnestly persistent In their entreaties that she go back East with them. She desired to go. It was not going that mattered; It was how and when and under what circumstances she was to return that roused In her disturbing emotion. Before she went East she wanted to have fixed In mind her fu ture relation to the ranch and the West. When the crucial hour arrived ■he found that the West had not claimed '^er yet. These old friends, had warmed cold ties. It turned out, however, that there need be no hurry about making the decision. Madeline would have wel comed any excuse to procrastinate; but as It happened, a letter from Al fred made her departure out of the question for the present. He wrote that his trip to California had been very profitable, that he had a pro pool tion for Madeline from a large cattle company, and, particularly, that he wanted to marry Florence soon after tils arrival home and would bring a minister from Douglas for that pur pose. Madeline went so far, however, as t" promise Helen and her friends that she would go Fast soon, at the very latest by Thanksgiving. With that promise they were reluctantly content to say goodby to the ranch and to her. .Helen's eyes hud a sweet, grave, yet mocking light as sin* said : "Maj esty. bring Stewart with you when you come. He'll be the rage." Madeline treated the remark with the same merry lightness with which it was received by the others; hut after the train had pulled out and she was on her way home she remembered Helen's words and looks with some thing almost amounting to a shock. Any mention of Stewart, any thought of him, displeased her. “What did Helen mean?’’ mused Madeline. And she pondered. That mocking light in Helen’s eyes had been simply an Ironical glint, t cyn ical gleam from that worldly experi ence so suspicious and tolerant in its wisdom. Tin* sweet gravity of Helen's look had been a deeper and more sub tle thing. Madeline wanted to under stand it. to divine in it u new rela tion between Helen and herself, some thing tine and sisterly that might lead to u>\ e. The thought, however, re volving around a strange suggestion of Stewart, was poison* ; at its Incejv tion, and she dismissed it. I poll the drive in to tin- ranch, as she was passing the lower lake, she saw Stewart walking listlessly along the shore. When he became aware of the approach of the car lie sudden ly awakened from Ids aindess saunter ing and disappeared quickly In the shade of the shrubbery. This was not by any means the first time Madeline had seen him avoid a possible meeting with her. Somehow the act had ( pained her. though affording her a relief. She did not want to meet him face to face. It was annoying for her t<> guess that Stillwell had something to say In Stewart’s defense. The old cattleman was evidently distressed. Several times he had tried to open a conversa tion with Madeline relating to Stew art; she had evaded him until the last time, when ids persistence had brought a cold and final refusal to hear an other word about the foreman. Still well had been crushed. As days passed Stewart remained at the ranch without his old faithfulness to his work. Madeline was not moved to a kinder frame of mind to see him wandering dejectedly around. It hurt her. and because it hurt her she grew all the harder. A telegram from Douglas, heralding the coming of Alfred and n minister, ' put an end to Madeline's broodi- x. anil i she shared something of Florence Kingsley's excitement. The cowboys i were as eager and gossipy as girls. It was arranged to have the wedding , ceremony performed In Madeline's , greut hall-chamber, and the dinner in the cool, flower-scented patio. Alfred and his minister arrived at I the ranch in the big white car. They appeared considerably wind-blown. In fact, the minister was breathless, nl- 1 most sightless, and certainly hat less. I Alfred, used as he was to wind and speed, remarked that lie did not won der at Neks' aversion to riding u fleet ing cannon.hall. The Imperturbable Link took n'T Ills cap and goggles and, consulting h s watch, made his usual apologetic report to Madeline, deplor ing the fact that a teamster and a few stray cattle on the road hud held him down to the manana time of only a mile a minute. Arrangements ior me weuumg brought Alfred’s delighted approval, j When he had learned all Florence and Madeline would tell him ho expressed a desire to have the cowboys attend; and then he went on to talk about California, where he was going to fake . Florence on a short trip. on the following day Alfred and Florence were married. Florence's , sister and several friends from K! Cajon were present, besides Madeline, Stillwell, and his men. It was Alfred's express wish that Stewart attend the ceremony. Madeline was amused when she noticed the painfully sup pressed excitement of the cowboys. 1 For them a wedding must have been an unusual and Impressive event. She began to have a better understanding of the nature of it when they cast off restraint and pressed forward to kiss the bride. In ail her life Madeline had never seen a bride kissed so much and so heartily, nor one so flushed and disheveled and happy. This In deed was a Joyful occasion. The dinner began quietly enough with the cowboys divided between em barrassment and voracious appetites that they evidently feared to indulge. Wine, however, loosened their tongues, and when Stillwell got up to make the speech everybody seemed to expect of him they greeted him with a roar. Stillwell was now one huge, moun tainous smile. He was so happy that he appeared on the verge of tears. He rambled on ecstatically till he came to raise his glass. “An* now. girls an’ boys, let’s all drink to the bride an’ groom; to their sincere an’ lastin' love; to their hap piness an’ prosperity; to their good health an’ long life. Let's drink to the unitin’ of the Bast with the West. No man full of red blood an’ the real breath of life could resist a Western girl an’ a good hoss an* God’s fret i hand—that open country out there. So we claim Al Hammond, an' may we be true to him. An’, friends, 1 think it tiltin’ that we drink to Ids sister an’ to our hopes. Heah's to the hnly we hope to make our Majesty! Heah’s to the man who’ll come Tidin' out of the West, a tine, big-hearted man with a fast boss an’ a strong rope, an’ may he win an' hold her! couie, friends, drink.” A heavy pound of horses’ hoofs and a yell outside arrested Stillwell's voice and halted ids hand in midair. Tlie patio became us silent us an unoccupied room. Through the "pen doors ami win dows of Madeline’s chamber burst the | sounds of horses stamping to a halt, then harsh speech of men, and a low : cry of a woman in pain. Rapid steps crossed the porch, en tered Madeline’s room. N’els appeared 1 in the doorway. Madeline was sur prised to set- that lie hud not boon at the dinner-table. She was dls ; turhed at sight of Ids face. “Stewart, you’re wanted outdoors," ■ailed Nels, bluntly. "Monty, you ! slope out here with me. You, Nick. an’ Stillwell—I reckon the rest of you ! bed better shut the dors an' stay in 1 side.’’ Nels disappeared. Quick ns a cat Monty glided out. Madeline hoard his soft, swift steps pass from her room into her oflioe. He had left bis guns there. Madeline trembled. She saw Stewart get up quietly anil with out any oUwnge of expression on his dark, sad face leave the patio. Nick Steele followed him. Stillwell dropped his wine-glass. As It broke, shivering the silence, bis huge smile vanished. His face set into the old erugginoss and the red slowly thickened into black. Stillwell went out and closed the door behind him. Then there Whs a blank silence. The enjoyment >f the ni'Uucnt had been rudely disrupted. Madeline glanced down the lines of brouu faces to see the pleasure fade Into the old familiar hardness. "What's wrong?" asked Alfred, rath er stupidly. The change of mood bad been too rapid for him. Suddenly lie awakened, thoroughly aroused at tbe interruption. "I'm going to see who’s buffed in here to spoil our din ner." he said, and strode out. He returned before any one at the table had spoken or moved, and now the dull red of anger mottled his fore head. "It’s the sheriff of III ('ajon!" he exclaimed. contemptuously. ‘Tat Ha we with some of his touch dep uties come to arrest (irr.e Stewart. They’ve got that po r little Mexican girl out there tied on a horse. Con found that sheriff!" Madeline calmly rose from the table .•biding Florence's retreating hand, and started for the door. The cow ' ...vs jumped up. Alfred barred her progress. "Alfred. I am going out," she said. "No, I guess not." he replied. "That’s no place for you. Maybe there’ll be a tight, You can do noth ing. You must not go.” “Perhaps I- can prevent trouble,” she replied. As she left the patio she was aware that Alfred, with Florence at his sde and the cowboys behind, were start ing to follow her. When she got out of her room upon the porch she heard several men In loud, angry discussion. Then, at sight of Iionltn helplessly and cruelly hound upon n horse, pale and disheveled and suffering. Made line experienced the thrill that sight or mention of this girl always gave her. It yielded to u hot pong In her breast—that live pain which so shamed her. But almost Instantly, as a second glance showed an agony in Bonita's fa cm, her bruised arms where the rope bit deep Into the flesh, her little brown hands stained with blood, Madeline was overcome by pity for the unfortunate girl and a woman’s righteous passion at such barbarous treatment of one of her own sex. The man holding the bridle of the horse on which Bonita had been hound was nt once recognized by Madeline as the blg-bodled. bullet-beaded guer rilla who had found the basket of wine In the spring at camp. Redder of face, blacker of beard, coarser of as pect. evidently under the Influence of liquor, he was us tierce-looking as n He Was So Happy That He Appeared on the Verge of Tears. gorilla and as repulsive. Besides him there were three other men present, all mounted on weary horses. The one In the foreground, gaunt, sharp featured, red-eyed, with a pointed heard, sht recognized as the sheriff of El Cajon. Stillwell saw Madeline, and, throw ing up his hands, roared to be heard. This quieted the gesticulating, quar reling men. “Wul now, Pat Howe, what’s drtvin’ you like a locoed steer on the ram page?" demanded Stillwell. "Keep In the traces, BUI,” replied Ha we. "You savvy what I come fer. I’ve been bldln' my time. But Pm ready now. I’m hyar to arrest a crim inal.” The huge frame of the old cattle man Jerked as If he had been stabbed. His face turned purplfc "What criminal?" he shouted, hoarsely. The sheriff flicked his quirt against his dir y hoot, and he twisted his tidn lips into a leer. "Why, Bill, I knowed you lied a no good outlft rldin' this range; but I wasn't wise tliet you lied niore’n one criminal.” "Cut that talk! Which cowboy are you wantin' to arrest?” Hawe's manner altered. "Gene Stewart," he replied, curtly. "On what charge?" “Fer killin' u Greaser one Bight last fall." "So you're still harpin' on that? I'at, you're on the wrong trail. You can't lay that killi^' onto Stewart. The thing’s ancient hy now But If you’insist on bringln' him to court, let the arrest go today we're havin' some fiesta hynr—an' I'll fetch Gene in to Id Cajon." "Nope. I reckon I'll take him when I got tlie chance, before lie slopes." "I'm glvin' you my word," thun dered Stillwell. "I reckon I don’t hev to take yor.r word, Bill, or anybody else's." Stillwell's great bulk quivered with j his rage, yet he made a successful ef fort to control it. | ‘‘.sol' livnr. I'nt lluwe, I know wlint s roast.milde. Law is law. But In tills country there always has been an’ is now a safe an' sane way to proceed with the law. Mebbe you've forgot that. I'm a-goin' to give you a hunch. I'at. you’re not overliked in these parts. You've rid too much with a high hand. Some of your deals hev been shady, an' don't you overlook wlmt I'm sayln’. But you're the slier . iff. nr.' I'm respectin' your office. I’m j respectin' it this much. If Lie milk of human decency is so soured in your ! breast that you can't hev a kind fool in', then try to avoid the onplcasant ness that’ll result from any contrary move on your part toilay. Ho you get that hunch?” "Stillwell, you're threatenin' an of ficer," replied 11.a we, angrily. "I come to arrest him, an' I'm goin' to.” “So that's your game!" shouted Stillwell. "\Vc all are glad to get you straight, I'at. N ov listen, you cheap, rod-eyed coyote of a sheriff! You don't care how many enemies you make. Y. u know you'd never get etliee again in this county. What do you care now? It's amazin' strange how earn est you are to hunt down the man who i killed that particular Greaser. I reckon there's been some dozen or more kilim's of Greasers in tin* last year. Why don't you take to trailin' some of them killln's? I'll fell you I why. You’re afraid to go near the border. An’ your hate of Gene Stew art makes you want to hound him an’ put him where he's never been yet— in Jail. You want to spite his friends. Wal, listen, you lean-jawed, skunk bitten coyote! Go ahead an' try to arrest him !" Stillwell took one mighty stride off the porch. His last words had been cold. Ills rage appeared to have been transferred to Ha we. The sheriff had begun to stutter and shake a lanky red hand at the cattleman when Stew.»rt stepped out. "Here, you fellows, give me a chance to say a word.” As Stewart appeared the Mexican girl suddenly seemed vitalized out of j her stupor. She strained at her bonds, ' as if to lift her hands beseechingly. A flush animated her haggard face, and her big eyes lighted. "Senor Gene!" she moaned. "Help me! I so seek. They beat me, rope me, 'nios' keel me. Oh, help me, Senor Gene!" "Shut up. er I’ll gag you,” said the man who held Bonita's horse. "Muzzle her, Sneed. If she blabs again," called Hawe. Madeline felt something tense and strained working In the short silence. Was it only a phase of her thrilling excitement? Her swift glance showed the faces of Nets and Monty and Nick to be brooding, cold, watchful. She wondered why Stewart did not look toward Bonita. He, too, was now dark-faced, cool, quiet, with something ominous about him. "Hawe, I’ll submit to arrest without any fuss,” he said, slowly, "If you’ll take the ropes off that girl." "Nope,” replied the sheriff. "She got away from me onct. She’s hawg tied now, an' she'll stay hawg-tled.” Madeline thought slie saw Stewart give a slight start. But an unaccount able dimness came o\er ner eyes, at brief intervals obscuring her keen sight. "All right, let's hurry out of here,” said Stewart. “You’ve made annoy ance enough. Itlde down to the cor ral with me. I'll get my horse and go with you.” "Hold on!" yelled Ilawe, as Stewart turned away. “Not so fast. Who’s doin' this? You'll ride one of my pack-horses, an' you’ll go in Irons." "You want to handcuff me?” queried Stewart, with sudden swift start of passion. "Want to? Haw, haw! Nope, Stew art, thet Jest my way with boss thieves, raiders Greasers, murderers. 1 an’ sich. See liyar, fou Sneed, git off an’ put the Irons on this man.” The guerrilla called Sneed slid off Ids horse and began to fumble in his saddle bags. Stillwell was gazing at Stewart In a kind of imploring amaze. ’’Gene, you ain't goin’ to stand fer them handcuffs?” he pleaded. "Yes." replied the cowboy. "Bill, old friend, I’m an outsider here, j There's no call for Miss llnmmon^ iud [ —and her brother and Florence to be ! worried further about me. Their happy day has already been spoiled on my account. 1 want to get out quick.” “W'ul, you might be too d n consid erate of Miss Hammond’s sensitive feel in's.” There was now no trace of the courteous, kindly old rancher. He looked harder than stone. "How about my feelin's? I want to know if you're goin’ to let this sneakin’ coyote, this last gasp of the old rum-gu;. din’ frontier sheriffs, put you in irons an’ hawg-tie you an' drive you off to Jail?" "Yes.” replied Stewart, steadily. "W'al, by Gawd! You, Gene Stew art! Wlmt’s come over you? Why. man. go in the house, an' I'll 'tend to “Senor Gene!" She Moaned. “Help Me! I So Seek" tills feller. Then tomorrow you can Mde in an’ give yourself up like a gentleman." “No. I'll go. Thanks, Bill, for the way you ami the hoys would stick to me. Hurry, llawe, before my mind changes." Ills voice broke at last, betraying the wonderful control he had kept over Ids passions. As lie ceased speaking be seemed suddenly to become spiritless, lie dropped bis head. When the man Sneed came forward, Jingling the Iron fetters, Madeline’s blood turned to tire. She would have forgiven Stewart then for lapsing Into the kind of cowboy It bad been her blind and sickly sentiment to abhor. This was a man's West— a man's game. At that moment, with her blood hot and ruclng, she would have gloried in the violence which she had so deplored: sho would have welcomed the action that bud characterized Stewart's treat ment of l»on Carlos; she had In her the sudden duwning temper of u wom an who bad been assimilating the life and nature around her and who would not have turned her eyes away from a harsh and bloody deed. Hut Stewart held forth his hands to tie manacled. Then Madeline heard her own voice hurst out In a ringing, Imperious "Walt!” Sneed dropped me manncies. Mew art's face took on a chalky whiteness, llawe. In a slow, stupid embarrass ment beyond his control, removed his sombrero In a respect that seemed wrenched from him. “Mr. llawe, I can prove to you that Stewart vas not concerned In any way whatever with the crime for which you want to arrest him.” The sheriffs stare underwent a blink ing change. lie coughed, stammered, and tried to speak. Manifestly, he had been thrown completely off his bal ance. Astonishment slowly merged Into discomfiture. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Similar Woods Differ in Tests. Osuge orange and black locust are much alike In structure, strength, durability and color, although the for mer usually has more of a golden brownish tinge. These two woods can readily he distinguished by the fact that osage orange gives off a yellowish color It* wrapped In a wet rag o* placed on a soaked blotter, while black locust gives off practically no color under the same conditions. Always a Last Resort. “First we'll bore for oil." “And If we don't strike oil?" “Then we’ll tunnel for copper." “And If we don’t strike copper?" “We’ll raise mushrooms."—Judge. IS GIANT SPECIES OF CENTIPEDE Reptile Found in Trinidad Secretes a Poison Which Enables It to Paralyze Prey. Trlridad centipedes have been pre sented to the London zoo, an exchange says. They ure more than a foot long, and at the broadest part nearly half i an Inch across. They are dark brown, with rings on the long feelers and on the legs, a pair of which projects from each flattened segment of the body. These tropical ceutlpedes live In shady places, hidden under bark, stones or dead leaves, moving chiefly at night. They run quickly and can climb verti cal surfaces If there Is any footbold for their daws. They are entirely carnivorous, living on Insects, grubs, small birds or mammals, which they kill with their venom. It has been shown that the whole of the body of these centipedes secretes a volatile venom, so that even tha wounds made by the sharp daws are extremely painful. The under surface of the head carries a formidable pair of poison fangs, the venom of which escapes by a pore In the claw, being formed by large glands at the base ol the claws. The venom Is an add opalescent liquid, hardly miscible with water. When Injected Into the veins of rabbits It produces Instantaneous paralysis, with cougulatlon of th^ blood; when Injected under the skfn enormous abscesses are rapidly formed. The bite is very painful to human beings, but has not been knowL to be fatal, although It causes in somnia, local swelling and occasion ally ulcers. Who Does. JTlahson—The trouble with most ad ▼ertlsements Is that they, are not trtM to life. Some of these pictures give m< a pain. Crabson—Yea, If I would try to grlx while shaving I would cut myself. So They Walked On. "Let’s try this restaurant—what kind of a place Is It I" "Oh—passable.” Cloth Frocks for Daytime; Dresses for the School Girl IlI'N one is correctly appareled, there conies a feeling of secur ity which refloats in one's poise. This season fashion declares unreservedly in favor of handsome cloth ns the medium de luxe for the daytime frock. Since the mode assigns the cloth dress as an essential In the well-timed wardrobe of not only the woman of fashion but more truly of (lie woman of affairs, the matter of selection Is of vital importance. A wide range of choice Is offered In materials, including twill, repp, ! considers the mutter of clothes for the growing generation, not only from the standpoint of appearance and utility, but the element of psychology of dress largely enters In. In these times of precocious childhood it Is quite a fen* to keep li’tle daughter dressed In youthful unaiTectedness. Two little frocks are shown which should appeal to the discerning parent seeking schooltime dresses not void of aesthetic touch, yet thoroughly practical, accenting the spirit of youth in their simplicity. Straight-Line Frock* Still Popular. broadcloth, duvetyn, kasha cloth, wool crepe, striped suiting and Paris pre dicts a vogue for alpaca. In regard to colors, black remains supreme, though navy is inviting some mention, while beige and allied tan shades are won derfully successful. Bottle green, the last word in styledoni, makes its ap peal to those whose satisfaction Is In heralding the newest ideas. There Is rumor to the effect that bright solid shades are coming in. The straight-line frock Is still pre eminently the favorite. This is espe cially true of the popular coat-dress, such ns Is shown to the right on the »martly-frocked young matron who car Smiling •'Curlylocks” to the left Is experiencing the joy of wearing an all wool line Jersey cloth dress. For chil dren who would frolic along life’s pathway there is nothing comparable i" Jersey cloth for wear and tear. There Is also a heap of good looks for a minimum of expenditure, especially^ if the frock be made at home, though# the stores offer remarkable values. Then, too, a "readymade" always evl deuces expert designing by specialists who cater to' youth’s requirements. Notice the dainty bit of yarn stitching on collar and cuff with crochet tas sels and cord to match. Just n wee bit more seriate la the Frock* Reflect Simplicity of Youth. rles lu her appearance the conviction of being properly gowned for a shop | ping tour. This tailored model of pa trician style Is developed In tine black •nd white hairline suiting, i The accompanying dress, which Is of 1 broadcloth, shows an effective combina tion of pheasant brown contrasted with j collar, cuffs and binding In bright I henna. For ten months of the year mothers •re constantly confronted with the I problem of dress needs for the school girl. In this day of child welfare, one school miss standing so erect by tne side of her companion, and her comely# frock is patterned more ulong the en viable mode of her elders. The ma terial Is a crossbar wool velours, deep red with cream color, and there are touches of wine-red velvet, with buttons to match. The long sleeves give notice of a coming vogue. '©• till. Western Newapaper Lntsn.) CUc Fur Tama. To wear with one's fur coat, they are showing delightful tarns of fur. A flattering model Is made of moleskin and caught at one side with two white gardenias. Plain tarns of sealskin, beaver, squirrel and ottier furs are equally becoming. Practical Desk Set. Severely simple and practical Is a desk set of white enamel with narrow edges of bluck to give It ’ character. An Inkwell la Included In the set. New Envelope Bags. The new envelope or under-the-arrr bags are more beautiful than ever. One bag of blue velvet Is entirely cov ered with Chinese embroidery In pale mauve and silver. Another of dark brown has an elaborate design worked out In silver beads. Will Remove Spots. Rain spots on clothes can often be removed by placing a clean damp doth on the material and pressing It with A moderately warm Iron.
Daily Herald (Roanoke Rapids, N.C.)
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Dec. 14, 1923, edition 1
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