. BY
FREDERICK PALMER
(Copyright, 1914, by Charles Scribner's Sons)
IS
SYNOPSIS.
At their home on the frontier between
the Browns and Grays Marta Galland and
her mother, entertaining Colonel Wester
ling of the Grays, see Captain Lanstron
of the Browns injured by a fall in his
aeroplane. Ten years later. WesterlinK.
nominal vice but real chief of staff, re-enforces
South La Tir and meditates on war.
Marta tells him of her teaching children
the follies of war and martial patriotism,
and beps him to prevent war while he is
chief of staff. Lanstron calls on Marta
at her home. She tells Lanstron that she
believes Feller, the gardener, to be a spy.
Lanstron confesses It Is true and shows
her a telephone which Feller has con
cealed in a secret passage under the tower
for use to benefit the Browns In war
emergencies. Lanstron declares his love
for Marta. Westerling: and the Gray
premier plan to use a trivial international
affair to foment warlike patriotism and
strike before declaring war. Partow,
Brown chief of staff, reveals his plans to
Lanstron, made vice-chief. The Gray
army crosses the border line and attacks.
The Browns check them. Artillery, in
fantry, aeroplanes and dirigibles engage.
Marta has her first glimpse of war in Its
modern, cold, scientific, murderous bru
tality. The Browns fall back to the Gal
land house. Marta sees a night attack.
The Grays attack in force. Feller leaves
his secret telephone and goes back to hia
guns. Hand to hand fighting. The Browns
fall back again. Marta asks Lanstron over
the phone to appeal to Partow to stop the
fighting. Vandalism in the Galland house.
"Westerling and his staff occupy the Gal
land house and he begins to woo Marta,
who apparently throws her fortunes with
the Gravs and offers valuable information.
She calls up Lanstron on the secret tele
phone and plans to give Westerling infor
mation that will trap the Gray army.
"Westerling forms his plan of attack upon
what he learns from her. The Grays take
Bordir. Through Marta Westerling is led
to concentrate his attack on the main line
at Engadir. A leak of information is sus
pected. Bouchard is relieved aa chief in
telligence officer.
CHAPTER XVII Continued.
All on the subject for the present!
When It was taken up again his suc
cessor would be in charge. He, the
indefatigable, the over-intense, with
medieval partisan fervor, who loathed
In secret machines like Turcas, was
the first man of the staff to go for in
competency. "And Engadir Is the key-point," Wes
terling was saying.
"Yes," agreed Turcas.
"So we concentrate to break through
there," Westerling continued, "while
we engage the whole line fiercely
enough to make the enemy uncertain
where the crucial attack is to be
made."
"But, general, if there is any place
that is naturally strong, that " Tur
cas began.
"The one place where they are confi
dent that we won't attack!" Wester
ling interrupted. He resented the
staff's professional respect for Turcas.
After a silence and a survey of the
faces around, he added with senten
tious effect: "And I was right about
Bordir!"
To this argument there could be no
answer. The one stroke of general
ship by the Grays, who, otherwise, had
succeeded alone through repeated
mass attacks, had been Westerling's
hypothesis that had gained Bordir in
a single assault. ,
"Engadir it is then!" said Turcas
with the loyalty of the subordinate
'In My Own
Defense
Aid."
and for Your
Kho makes a superior's conviction his
own, the better to carry it out.
Hazily, Bouchard had heard the talk,
while he was looking at Westerling
and seeing him, not at the head of the
council table, but in the arbor in eager
appeal to Marta.
"I shall find out! I shall find out!"
was drumming in his temples when
the council rose; and, without a word
or a backward glance, he was the first
to leave the room.
When Bouchard returned to his desk
he guessed the contents of the note
awaiting him, but he took a long time
to read its stereotyped expressions in
transferring him to perfunctory duty
well to the rear of the army. Then he
pulled himself together and, leaden
hearted, settled down to arrange rou-
J pi " JS?
- 1 ti
jh-' )0y
tine details for his departure, while
the rest of the staff was immersed in
the activity of the preparations for the
attack on Engadir. He knew that he
could not sleep if he lay down. So he
spent the night at work. In the morn
ing his successor, a young man whom
he himself had chosen and trained,
Colonel Bellini, appeared, and the
fallen man received the ri6ing man
with forced official courtesy.
"In my own defense and for your
aid," he said, "I show you a copy of
what I have just written to General
Westerling."
A brief note it was, in farewell, be
ginning with conventional thanks for
Westerling's confidence in the past.
"I am punished for being right," it
concluded. "It is my belief that Miss
Galland sends news to the enemy and
that she draws it from you without
your consciousness of the fact. I tell
you honestly. Do what you will with
me."
It took more courage than any act
of his life for the loyal Bouchard to
dare such candor to a superior. See
ing the patchy, yellow, bloodless face
drawn in stiff lines and the abysmal
stare of the deep-set eyes in their
bony recesses, Bellini was swept with
a wave of sympathy.
"Thank you, Bouchard. You've been
very fine!" said Bellini as he grasped
Bouchard's hand, which was icy cold.
"My duty my duty, in the hope that
we shall kill two Browns for every
Gray who has fallen that we shall
yet see them starved and besieged
and crying for mercy in their capital,"
replied Bouchard. He saluted with a
dismal, urgent formality and stalked
out of the room with the tread of tho
ghost of Hamlet's father.
The strange impression that this
farewell left with Bellini still lingered
when, a few moments later, Wester
ling summoned him. Not alone the
diffidence of a new member of the
staff going into the presence accounted
for the stir in his temples, as he wait
ed till some papers were signed be
fore he had Westerling's attention.
Then Westerling picked up Bouchard's
note and shook his head sadly.
"Poor Bouchard! You can see for
yourself," and he handed the note to
Bellini. "I should have realized ear
lier that it was a case for the doctor
and not for reprimand. Mad! Poor
Bouchard! He hadn't the ability or
the resiliency of mind for his task, as
I hope you have, colonel."
"I hope so, sir," replied Bellini.
"I've no doubt you have," said Wes
terling. "You are my choice!"
CHAPTER XVIII.
A Change of Plan.
That day and the next Westerling
had no time for strolling in the gar
den. His only exercise was a few
periods of pacing on the veranda. Tur
cas, as tirelessly industrious as ever,
developed an increasingly quiet insist
ence to leave the responsibility of de
cisions about everything of importance
to a chief who was becoming increas
ingly arbitrary. The attack on Enga
dir being the jewel of Westerling's
own planning, he was disinclined to
risk success by delegating authority,
which also meant sharing the glory of
victory.
Bouchard's note, though officially dis
missed as a matter of pathology, would
not accept dismissal privately. In
flashes of distinctness It recurred to
him between reports of the progress
of preparations and directions as to
dispositions. At dusk of the second
day, when all the guns and troops had
their places for the final movement un
der cover of darkness and he rose
from his. desk, the thing that had
edged its way into a crowded mind
took possession of the premises that
strategy and tactics had vacated. It
passed under the same analysis as his
work. His overweening pride, so sen
sitive to the suspicion of a conviction
that he had been fooled, put his rela
tions with Marta In logical review. He
had fallen in love in the midst of war.
A cool and intense impatience pos
sessed him to. study her in the light
of his new skepticism, when, turning
the path of the first terrace, he saw
her watching the sunset over the crest
of the range.
She was standing quite still, a slim,
soft shadow between him and the light,
which gilded her figure and quarter
profile. Did she expect him? he won
dered. Was she posing at that In
stant for his benefit? When she
turned, her face in the shadow, the
glow of the sunset seemed to remain
in her eyes, otherwise without expres
sion, yet able-to detect something un
usual under externals as they ex
changed commonplaces of greeting.
"Well, there's a change in our offi-i
cial family. We have lost Bouchard
transferred to another post!" said
Westerling.
Marta noted that, though he gave
the news a casual turn, hi3 scrutiny
sharpened.
"Is that so? I can't say that my
mother and I shall be sorry," she re
marked. "He was always glaring at
us as if he wished us out of sight.
Indeed, if he had his way, I think he
would have made us prisoners of war.
Wasn't he a woman-hater?" she con
cluded, half in irritation, half in
amusement.
"He had that reputation," said Wes
terling. "What do you think led to
his departure?" he continued.
"I confess I cannot guess!" said
Marta, with a look at the sunset glow
as if she resented the loss of a min
ute of it.
"There has been a leak of informa
tion to the Browns!" he announced.
"There has! And he was intelli
gence officer, wasn't he?" she asked,
turning to Westerling, her curiosity
apparently aroused as a matter of cour
tesy to his own interest In the sub
ject. "Who do you think he accused?
Why, you," he added, with a j-ecullar
laugh.
She noted the peculiarity of the
laugh discriminatingly.
"Oh!" Her eyes opened wide in
wonder only wonder, at first. Then,
as comprehension took the place of
wonder, they grew sympathetic. "That
explains!" she exclaimed. "His hate
ful glances were those of delusion. He
was goingmad, you mean?'
"Yes," said Westerling, "that that
would explain it!"
"I have been told that when people
go mad they always ascribe every in
jury done to them to the person who
happens to have excited their dislike,"
6he mused.
"Which seems to have been the case
here," Westerling assented. He did
not know what else to say. His pride
was recovering its natural confidence
in the infallibility of his judgment of
human beings. He was seeing his sus
picions as ridiculous enough to con
vict him of a brain as disordered as
Bouchard's.
Marta w:as thinking that she had
been skating on very thin Ice and
that she must go on skating till she
broke through. There was an exhila
ration about it that she could not re
sist: the exhilaration of risk and the
control of her faculties, prompted by
a purpose hypnotically compelling.
Both were silent, Bhe watching the
sky, he in anticipation and suspense.
The rose went violet and the shadows
over the range deepened.
"The guns and the troops wait.
With darkness the music begins!" he
said slowly, with a start of stern
fervor.
"The music the music! He calls
it music!" ran through Marta's mind
mockingly, but she did not open her
lips.
"They wait, ready, every detail ar
ranged," he continued proudly.
The sky merged into the shadows of
the landscape that spread and thick
ened into blackness. Out of the drawn
curtains of night broke an ugly flash
and farther up the slope spread the
explosive circle of light of a bursting
shell.
"The signal!" he exclaimed.
Right and left the blasts spread
along the Gray lines and right and
left, on the instant, the Browns sent
their blasts in reply. Countless tongues
of flame seemed to burst from count
less craters, and the range to rock in
a torment of crashes. In the inter
vening space between the ugly, sav
age gusts from the Gray gun mouths,
which sent their shells from the midst
of exploding Brown shells, swept the
beams of the Brown search-lights,
their rays lost like sunlight In the vor
tex of an open furnace door.
"Splendid! splendid!" exclaimed
Westerling, in a sweep of emotion at
the sight that had been born of his
command. "Five thousand guns on
our side alone! The world has never
seen the equal of this!"
Marta looked away from the range
to his face, very distinct in the garish
illumination. It was the face of a
maestro of war seeing all his rehear
sals and all his labors come true in
symphonic gratification to the eye
and ear; the face of. a man of trained
mind, the product of civilization, with
the elation of a party leader on the
floor of a parliament in a crisis.
"Soon, now!" said Westerling, and
looked at his watch.
Shortly, in the direction of Engadir,
to the rear of the steady flashes
broke forth line after line of flashes
as the long-range batteries, which so
far had been silent, joined their might
ier voices to the chorus, making a con
tinuous leaping burst of explosions
over the Brown positions, which were
the real object of the attack.
"The moment I've lived for!" ex
claimed Westerling. "Our infantry is
starting up the apron of Engadir! We
held back the fire of the heavy guns
concentrated for the purpose of sup
porting the men with an outburst.
Three hundred heavy guns pouring in
their shells on a space of two acres!
We're tearing their redoubts to pieces!
They can't see to fire! They can't
live under it! They're in the crater
of a volcano! When our infantry Is
on the edge of the wreckage the guns
cease. Our infantry crowd in crowd
into the house that Partow built.
He'll find that numbers count; that
the power of modern gunfire will open
the way for infantry in masses to take
and hold vital tactical positions! And
no no, their fire in reply is not as
strong as I expected."
"Because they are letting you in!
It will be strong enough in due sea
son!" thought Marta in the uncontrol
lable triumph of antagonism. Five
against three was in his tone and in
every line of his features.
"It's hard for a soldier to leave a
sight like this, but the real news will
be awaiting me at my desk," he con
cluded, adding, as he turned away:
"It's fireworks worth seeing, and if
you remain here I will return to tell
you the results."
Turning her back to the range for
the moment, she saw the twinkle of
the lights of the town and the threads
of light of the wagon-trains and the
sweep of the lights of the railroad
trains on the plain; while in the fore
ground every window of the house was
ablaze, like some factory on a busy
night shift. She could hear the click
of the telegraph instruments already
reporting the details of the action as
cheerfully as Brobdingnagian crickets
in their peaceful surroundings. Then
out of the shadows Westerling reap
peared. "The apron of Engadir is ours!" he
called. "Thanks to you!" he added
with pointed emphasis. Back In the
house he had received congratula
tions with a nod, as if success were
a matter of course. Before her, ex
ultation unbent stiffness, and he was
hoarsely triumphant and eager. "It's
plain sailing now," he went on. "A
break in the main line! We have
only to drive home the wedge, and
then and then!" he concluded.
She felt him close, his breath on
her cheek.
"Peace!" she hastened to say, draw
ing back instinctively.
And then! The irony of the words
in the light of her knowledge was
pointed by a terrific renewal of the
Sgj JOT!'
"We're Tearing Their Redoubts to
Pieces!"
thunders and the flashes far up on the
range, and she could not resist re
joicing in her heart.
"That's the Browns!" exclaimed
Westerling in surprise.
The volume of fire increased. With
the rest of the frontier in darkness,
the Engadir section was an isolated
blaze. In its light she saw his fea
tures, without alarm but hardening In
dogged intensity.
"They've awakened to what they have
lost! They have been rushing up re
serves and are making a counter
attack. We must hold what we have
gained, no matter what the cost!"
His last sentence was spoken over
his shoulder as he started for the
house.
Without changing her position,
.hardly turning her head, she watched
until the firing began to lessen rap
idly. Then she heard his step. She
rose to face him, summoning back
the spirit of the actress.
"This is better yet! I came to tell
you that the counter-attack failed!" he
said as he saw her appear from the
shelter of the arbor.
She wondered if she were going to
fall. But the post of the trellis was
within reach. She caught hold of It
to steady herself. Failed!
"The killing it must have been ter
rible!" her mind at last made her ex
claim to cover her tardiness of re
sponse to his mood.
"You thought of that as you should
as I do!" he said.
He took her hands In his, pulsing
warm with the flowing red of his
strength. She let them remain life
lessly, as if she had not the will to
take them away, the instinct of her
part again dominant. To him this was
another victory, and it was discovery
the discovery of melting weakness
in her for the first time, which magni
fied his sense of masculine power. He
tightened his grip slightly and she
shuddered.
"You are tired!" he said, and It hurt
her that he should be so considerate.
"The killing to end that! It's all
I want!" she breathed miserably.
"And the end is near!" he said.
"Yes, now, thanks to you!" f
Thanks to her! And she must listen
and submit to his touch!
"Then engineers and material were
ready to go in," he continued. "Be
fore morning, as I had plained, we
shall be so well fortified in ihe posi
tion that nothing can budge us. This
success so strengthens my power with
the staff and the premier that I teed
not wait on Fabian tactics. I am
supreme. I shall make the most of
the demoralization of this blow to the
enemy. I shall not wait on slow ap
proaches in the hope of saving life.
Tomorrow I shall attack and keep on
attacking till all the main line is ours."
"Now you are playing your real part,
the conqueror!" she thought gladly.
"Your kind of peace is the ruin of an
other people; the peace of a helpless
enemy. That is better" better for her
conscience. Unwittingly, she allowed
her hands to remain in his. In the pa
ralysis of despair she was unconscious
that she had hands. She felt that she
could endure anything to retrieve the
error Into which she had been the
means oi leading the browns. And
the killing it would not stop, she
knew. No, the Browns would not
yield until they were decimated.
"We have the numbers to spare.
Numbers shall "press home home to
terms in their capital!" Westerling's
voice grew husky as he proceeded,
harsh as orders to soldiers who hesi
tated in face of fire. "After that after
that" the tone changed from harsh
ness to desire, which was still the de
sire of possession "the fruits of
peace, a triumph that I want you to
share!" He was drawing her toward
him with an impulse of the force of
this desire, when she broke free with
an abrupt, struggling pull.
"Not that! Not that! Your work
Is not yet done!" she cried.
He made a move as if to persist,
then he fell back with a gesture of
understanding.
"Right! Hold me to it!" he ex
claimed resolutely. "Hold me to the
bargain! So a woman worth while
should hold a man worth while."
"Yes!" she managed to say, and
turned to go in a sudden impetus of
energy. Half running, half stumbling,
the light of the lantern bobbing and
trembling weirdly, Bhe hastened
through the tunnel. Usually the time
for taking the receiver down till
Lanny replied was only a half min
ute. Now she waited what seemed
many minutes without response. Had
the connections been broken? To
make sure that her impatience was
not tricking her she began to count
off the seconds. Then she heard Lan
stron's voice, broken and hoarse:
"Mai?ta, Marta, he is dead! Partow
is dead!"
Recovering himself, Lanstron told
the story of Partow's going, which was
in keeping with his life and his
prayers. As the doctor put it, the
light of his mind, turned on full volt
age to the last, went out without a
flicker. Through the day he had at
tended to the ' dispositions for receiv
ing the Grays' attack, enlivening rou
tine as usual with flashes of humor
and reflection ranging beyond the de
tails in hand. An hour or so before
dark he had reached across the table
and laid his big, soft palm on the back
of Lanstron's hand. He was thinking
aloud, a habit of his in Lanstron's com
pany, when an idea requiring gesta
tion came to him.
"My boy, it is not fatal if we lose
the apron of Engadir. The defenses
behind it are very strong."
"No, not fatal," Lanstron agreed.
"But it's very important."
"And Westerling will think it fatal.
Yes, I understand his character. Yes
yes; and if our counter-attack should
fall, then Miss Galland's position
would be secure. Hm-m-m those
whom the gods would destroy
hm-m-m. Westerling will be con
vinced that repeated, overwhelming
attacks will gain our main line. In
stead of using engineering approaches,
he will throw his battalions, masses
upon masses, against our works until
his strength is spent. It would be
baiting the bull. A risk a risk but,
my boy, I am going to "
Partow's head, which was bent in
thought, dropped with a jerk. A con
vulsion shook him and he fell forward
onto the map, his brave old heart in
its last flutter, and Lanstron was alone
in the silent room with the dead and
his responsibility.
"The order that I knew he was about
to speak, Marta, I gave for him," Lan
stron concluded. "It seemed to me
an inspiration his last inspiration
to make the counter-attack a feint."
"And you're acting chief of staff,
Lanny? You against Westerling?"
"Yes."
The colonel of the 128th aDd Captain
Fracasse were eating their biscuits to
gether and making occasional remarks
rather than holding a conversation.
"Well, Westerling is a field-marshal,"
said the colonel.
"Yes, he's got something out of it!"
"The men seem to be losing spirit
there's not doubt of it!" exclaimed the
colonel, more aloud to himself than
to Fracasse, after a while.
"No wonder!" replied Fracasse. Mar
tinet though he- was, he spoke in grum
bling loyalty to his soldiers. "What
kind of spirit is there in doing the
work of navvies? Spirit! No sol
diers ever fought better in invasion,
at least. Look at our losses! Spirit!
Westerling drives us in. He thinks
we can climb Niagara Falls! He "
"Stop! You are talking like an an
archist!" snapped the colonel. "How
can the men have spirit when you feel
that way?"
"I shall continue to obey orders and
do my duty, sir!" replied Fracasse.
"And they will, too,' or I'll know the
reason why."
There was a silence, but at length
the colonel exploded:
"I suppose Westerling knows what
he Is doing!"
"Still we must go on! We must
win!"
"Yes, the offensive always wins In
the end. We must go on!"
"And once we have the range yes,
once we've won one vital position the
men will recover their enthusiasm and
be crying: 'On to the capital!''"
"Right! We were forgetting history.
We were forgetting the volatility of
Iiuman nature."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Cholera's Natural Home.
The marshy ground of the Ganges
delta, with its vast masses of vege
tation, decaying under a tropical sun,
is the native home of the cholera.
In that pestilential region the chol
era and plague are found every year
and all the year round. Every chol
era epidemic which has desolated
Europe, every visitation of the plague,
is believed to have started from, thf
mouthy of the Ganges.
BILIOUS.
HEADACHY
"MHETS"
Gently cleanse your liver and
sluggish bowels while
you sleep.
Get a 10-cent box.
Sick headache, biliousness, dizzi
ness, coated tongue, foul taste and foul
breath always trace them to torpid
liver; delayed, fermenting food in the
bowels or Bour, gassy stomach.
Poisonous matter clogged in the in
testines. Instead of being cast out
of the system is re-absorbed into the
blood. When this poison reaches the
delicate brain tissue it causes con
gestion and that dull, throbbing, sick
ening headache.
Cascarets immediately cleanse the
stomach, remove the sour, undigested
food and foul gases, take the excess
bile from the liver and carry out all
the ' constipated waste matter and
poisons in the bowels.
A Cascaret to-night will surely
straighten you out by morning. They
work while you sleep a 10-cent box
from your druggist means your head
clear, stomach sweet and your liver
and bowels regular for months. Adv.
Mark of 100 for "Sammy."
"Sammy" April, the small boy who
supplies President Wilson with news
papers, called on Secretary Tumulty
and asked him what he thought of
Mr. Wilson's message to congress.
Mr. Tumulty immediately launched
into a laudatory discussion of the sub
ject. When he had talked a few min
utes, he paused and asked: "But why
do you ask, Sammy?"
"I have to .write a composition on
it in school tomorrow," replied the
boy, "and I thought I would come to
headquarters for the Information."
TAKE SALTS TO FLUSH
KIDNEYS IF BACK HURTS
Says Too Much Meat Forms Uric Acid
Which Clogs the Kidneys and
Irritates the Bladder.
Most folks forget that the Mdneys,
like the bowels, get sluggish and clog
ged and need a flushing occasionally,
else we have backache and dull misery
In the kidney region, severe head
aches, rheumatic twinges, torpid liver,
acid stomach, sleeplessness and all
sorts of bladder disorders.
You simply must keep your kidneys
active and clean, and the moment you
feel an ache or pain in the kidney
region, get about four ounces of Jad
Salts from any good drug store here,
take a tablespoonful in a glass of
water before breakfast for a few days
and your kidneys will then act fine.
This famous salts Is made from the
acid of grapes and lemon juice, com
bined with lithla, and Is harmless to
flush clogged kidneys and stimulate
them to normal activity. It also neu
tralizes the acids in the urine so it
no longer irritates, thus ending blad
der disorders.
Jad Salts is harmless; Inexpensive;
makes a delightful effervescent Iithia
water drink which everybody should
take now and then to keep their kid
neys clean, thus avoiding serious com
plications. A well-known local druggist says he
sells lots of Jad Salts to folks who be
lieve in overcoming kidney trouble
while it is only trouble. Adv.
She Remembered.
"Mamma," said little Lauretta, "Aunt
Mary is getting awfully fat, isn't Bhe?"
"It Isn't polite to say 'fat,' dear. You
should say 'stout'," rejoined her moth
er. At dinner that evening when she
was asked what kind of meat she
would like, Lauretta replied: "A lit
tle of the lean and a little of the
stout, please."
GRANDMA USED SAGE TEA
TO DARKEN HER GRAY HAIR
-She Made Up a Mixture of Sage Tea
and Sulphur to Bring Back Color,
Gloss, Thickness. '
Almost everyone knows that Sage
Tea and Sulphur, properly compound
ed, brings back the natural color and
lustre to the hair when faded, streaked
or gray; also ends dandruff, itching
scalp and stops falling hair. Years
ago the only way to get this mixture
was to make it at home, which is
mussy and troublesome. Na
by asking at any store for "
Sage and Sulphur Hair Reme
will get a large bottle of th
old recipe for about 50 cents.
Don't stay gray! Try it! I
can possibly tell that you .difinened
your hair, as it does it so naturally
and evenly. You dampen a sponge or
soft brush with it and draw this
through your hair, taking one small
strand at a time, by morning the gray
hair disappears, and rtter another ap
plication or two, your hair becomes
beautifully dark, thick and glossy.
Adv. "
True to Type.
The' Customer These grand opera
phonograph records are no good. I
can't get anything out of half of them.
The Salesman They are our finest
achievement. You never can tell when
the'je records will sing. They're so
temperamental. London Opinion.
When Talk Begins.
Hostess People are very dull to
night. I really can't get them to tal'x.
Host Play something, dearest.
mays, i