- Hasting*!
BradleyjJ
W/-I4I. SERVICE/
I hadn’t been ao angry, through
u»d through, with the blood ao
' In my face that I flung open
rlndow to cool off In (he aharp
Unit air, I would never have
a that blow. And I wonld never
•It waa ridiculous, my anger. HI
olctOeus to feel that anything these
Upople might do could hurt me. But
to be treated like a piano tuner, like
jjjSfcr* plumber, like one aent for to
fto some menial job about the house!
I, Leila Seton, better born and bet
ter bred than they—not good enough
Imp their house-party. Given a tray
|9M-my bedroom!
| ^ It was silly to let that get me.
pf ought to have laughed it off; but
iflpmebow I had been childishly
pager about this week-end and all
tt seemed to promise, and I bad
• Went more than I could afford for
dinner-gown I was so sure I
. .would need—and, then the sight of
all those people downstairs, stand
Mg about with the cocktails that
were the fag end of the tea-hour,
laughing and talking, had me tin
gling with anticipation as I followed
the man with my bags up the stairs.
' ^1 already knew who some of
mem were. I knew—from the pa
pers—that Alan Deck, the critic,
pas to be there. I loved his dry,
biting sentences. I had hoped for
|Min beside me at dinner — liter
ature and art might be paired to
gether; and Td had little dreams of
his finding me understanding and
‘merry—and likable. In my new
blue satin!
And the Harridans were to be
there—that amazing couple whose
Sensational accusations and recon
ciliations New York still rolled un
ler Its tongue. However my New
England blood might register dis
approval of the goings-on of this
spoiled super-gilded set, my un
regenerate soul had been thrilled at
thought of meeting Nora Har
[lden, the enchantress.
I had wondered, passing through
'the great hall, whether that slight
creature In gold pajamas, rather
apart from the others, were she
or not.
I had said, as the' man put down
a suitcase on the little folding
stand: “You will tell Mrs. Keller
I am here?" Naively I had thought
It odd he hadn’t announced me when
I arrived.
“Oh, yes, Madame, she will be In
formed,” he said perfunctorily.
“And what time is dinner?" I
wanted to know.
v The man had looked vague. "Oh
Jt-the usual hour, I expect At
eight. But you can have your tray
sent at any time you wish. A little
earlier?”
I was afraid I stared. As quickly
as I could, I said, “No—at eight
l&n,” and my voice was not suc
cessful, either, In cloaking what I
felt
For the sake, of saying some
thing indifferent-sounding, I asked
quickly, “Just where Is the art gal
lery here?” and he told me that It
was around the corner from my
room, on the same floor, across the
front of the house.
Then he shut the door with pro
fessional quiet and f pretended to
be busy about the room, unpacking
my suitcase, trying to admire the
spacious comfort the black lac
quer of the Chinese furniture, the
note of lovely rose In the deep-cush
(Toned chair. But I was Just getting
more angry Inside A warm bath
aiuu i ouuuie me, uur uunning me
red (rock I had brought (or "live
o’clock." My cheeks were flaming.
I found myself dwelling on the
noble origins of my ancestry, and
the presumably Ignoble money-grub
bing strains In these upstarts—ab
surd, the intensity of childish emo
tion I wasted on that experience!
Of course, my disappointment was
making Itself felt, for It was not
only a blow to my pride, but to the
little vague, excited hopes I had
been cherishing ever since I had been
fen the commission to go over the
tier collection, and the Keller
retary—through whom the ar
rangements bad been made — had
asked me to come down Friday aft
ernoon. Why Friday afternoon, If
I was not to be part of the bouse
«rty that the papers said the Kel
s were assembling t
Why, 1 was an artist! Not a
painter—bat an authority on old
(masters. In studying abroad T had
Kgnted -under Berensen, fascinated
By his science of detecting Impee
and had given myself to
of the past I knew canvas,
I might have
to publicity. And when I backed
myself against two experts from
Paris In the matter of the Da Vinci,
basing my belief on the evidence
of the analysis of fh« pigment of
the live bine stars' In the saint's
robe, and won—and the alleged
Under confessed—why, then I was
an authority In my own narrow but
far-reaching Held.
I had been sept for now, to go
through the famous Keller collec
tion and offer my Judgment on the
masterpieces that the great-grand
father of the present owner had
believed he bought.
I flung open the long window and
offered myself to the night It had
been six When I arrived—It was
about seven-thirty now. It was Oc
tober, and already dusk; the land
scaped ground below me was In
shadow, the Sound, far below, a
lighter stretch of gray.
I hadn't really seen the place In
driving In; I had had only an Im
pression of high walls and Inclosed
acres, and a great tall house among
trees. Now I took a more careful'
note of the house. The entrance
opened Into a long ball that ran
across the front of the building,
with a drawing-room at one end,
and what I had presumed to be the
dining-room at the other. Both the
drawing-room and the dining-room
Jutted forward. I was In the third
Story, two flights over the drawing
room. Because of the forward-jut
ting position of the wing, my win
dow looked directly across to the
other wing, and gave a slant view
of the facade of the bouse.
Lights were gleaming In the
cracks between drawn curtains In
some of the windows; and behind
them I could imagine people dress
ing for dinner. In the front of the
house, down on tho second story,
one wide window was uncurtained,
and a man’s figure was silhouetted
blackly against Its light Quite sud
denly a woman’s figure came Into
the picture.
Sbe seemed to whirl in, to come
up to. the man with a sort of rush,
to stand before him a moment. I
could see nd faces, no movement
of the outline of her face; but I
had an Impression, somehow, that
she was talking rapidly. And then
he struck her.
I saw his arm go out, In an un
mistakable blow. Not a thrust, but
a savage smack. And then they
were both out of sight
I was fttll staring out when the
curtains were suddenly drawn. And
then X grinned to myself. I told
myself that I was quite as well off
up here as dining with such guests;
for evidently their cocktails had
removed whatever veneer any train
ing had put upon them.
I was feeling much Setter by then.
I thought about the pictures and
ran over In my mind the list of al
leged masterpieces that had been
old Hiram Keller’s vaunt.
The man had said the gallery
was on the same floor, across the
front of the bouse, so I went out
Into the hall. I passed the head of
the stairs—the main staircase ris
ing from the first floor branched
right and left to gain the second
floor, and a stair rose then to the
thirds—and turned to the door at
the left I pushed the door oj>en.
The place was dark as a tqmb,
the curtains drawn, I surmised,
against any sun, so that not even
the pale oblongs of evening were
discernible. I fumbled for a switch,
stepping Into the shadow of the
wall to find one.
Ont of the darkness a voice spoke
so suddenly that I Jumped. I
thought for a moment, still obsessed
by my European experience, that
U was some watchman of the gal
lery, and I said, quickly: "It's all
right”
I heard somebody walking toward
me. Then my fingers found the
switch, and the lights sprang on.
And before me the face of a man
la evening dress seemed to spring
ont at me with the lights, It was so
white, so startling. It was a beau
tiful face, narrow, high-bred, chal
lenging, like some of the portraits
of gay young aristocrats In old Eng
lish canvases. But the expression
was queerly desperate. It was the
most bitter and tormented face I
had ever seen.
A little breathlessly I said: “Oh!
I thought It was the watchman. I
Just wanted to see the pictures.”
Bis words pricked me with em
barrassment at having blundered on
some rendezvous.
“I was Just—waiting,” he said a
little vaguely. "Ion—we haven’t
met before—have we?”
“No—oh, no,” I stammered. "I—
I Just came to see the pictures.”
And I turned to be gone,' before
that girl for whom he was watt
ing should arrive.
“Ton can’t see the pictures If
yon go,” he reminded me with a
sort of negligent amusement
“They stay on the walls.”
“I mean — I Just came to the
house to see the pictures—to exam
ine them,” I explained. *Tm not
part of the house-party. I’ll see
them better by daylight"
And as he said nothing to that I
went Back In my room, I told my
self that I had been silly to rush
I Saw His Arm Go Out, In an Un
mistakable Blow.
away like a school-girl, for If there
was any part of the house to which
I did have a right of entry, It was
the gallery.
I wondered abont his rendezvous
and Its strange secrecy. Surely, In
a house like this, with all Its oppor
tunities for meeting, there must be
something desperately Intimate be
tween two people, to draw them
to an unfrequented gallery for a
few minutes together. . . . And his
face had been so queer. It did not
look as if It were rapture he was
awaiting.
I was beginning to think about
my tray, for I had a healthy appe
tite, for all my indignation, when
the houseman appeared suddenly
at my door with a message.
“Mrs. Keller would be pleased,
Madame, If you come down at din
ner.”
My first Impulse, beyond the sud
den surprise, was to refuse. Mrs.
Keller hadn't wanted me once—my
pride was as high as hers. It was
a little after eight I was not
dressed for dinner—why should I
trouble myself because some guest
bad failed and upset her table, and
she had taken the whim to send for
me?
“I’m not dressed—” I began
doubtfully.
"She said to come down as soon
as you could.”
But I Ad want to go. I wanted
terribly to aee what waa happening
downstair*, what lay behind that
Invitation. And I told myself that
It was more dignified, more Imper
vious to any feeling of sllghtedness,
to go down, as If It were a matter
of indifference.
“Ton can tell her I'll be down," 1
said casually. When he was ontof
the room. I fairly flew.
The bine satin now. The new
Chiffon stockings. The blue-and
Sllver slippers. The crystal chain
and bracelet A stroke at my hair
with a comb.
Late as I was, I passed for a last
feminine peep at the girl In the
glass. She was surely doing her
best for me; she might hare been
twenty Instead of twenty-six, with
her fresh clear color,—only a hint
reinforced!—her bright light yel
low hair, and the eyes that looked
like deeper shadows of that frock.
I was quite poetic about myself
as I hurried down the stairs. The
sound of voices came from the op
en doors of the dining room beyond.
They hadn’t waited—they had sat
down. I walked to the open doors
and looked In with uncertainty beat
ing hard under my effort at com
posure.
It was a large white room with
a black floor; there were about a
dosen people about a long black ta
ble with the glitter of green glass
on It At one end a women In green,
with hair that was either white or
platinum, looked up and called to
me.
“Oh, Mlbs Seton—so nice! There
Is your place.”
It was the only vacancy between
the black shoulders of the men. A
butler drew back my chair; and as
I seated myself, the hostess called
down “That Is Mr. Mitchell—and
Mr. Deck.”
Tne man at my left pusbed a
place card toward me. urm Mit
chell,n he said with a quick smile.
He had bright little black eyes, a
pince-nez with a black ribbon, and
a bald forehead. The other man
was the young man of the gallery.
So that was Alan Deck! And I
was beside him, after all.
“Monty Mitchell to my Intimate,”
said the one at the left "And I
can see that we are going to be in
timate , . ."
Mr. Mitchell took on the duties
of host “And this Is Miss Van AJ>
styn, Miss Seton,” he said of the
young woman at his left, who gave
me an instant’s view of a vague
smile and then turned back to the
man at her left.
“And who Is beside her?” I want
ed to know.
“That’s Harrlden — don’t you
know him?” said the young man;
and while I murmured that I didn’t
know a soul there, I was staring
at the big, hard-boned face of the
famous Harrlden. I wondered
where Mrs. Harrlden was; then J
saw the place-card before me with
her name on It So I was filling
in for Nora Harrlden 1
There was a queer amusement in
It I had even the wonder if she
was the woman whose face had
been smacked, and so was staying
away from dinner to bide the mark.
Mr. Deck made not the slightest;
effort to talk to me, but sat silent
as far as I could gather, while Mr,
Mitchell claimed my attention. He
.wanted to know who I was, and
what sort of artistic work I did;
and I was trying to put It into so
cial words that would not reveal
my too real enthusiasm when Mr.
Harrlden created an abrupt diver
sion by pushing back his cUhir and
leaving the table.
Mr. Mitchell relayed the explan
ation. “He’s gone up to see how
bis wife’s headache Is—she didn’t
come down.”
It Is Important that I remember
the dinner In the right Intervals; at
least, It Is Important to my story
I believe It was only a very few
moments when Mr. Harrlden came
back. He said, quite loudly: “1
think she’s sleeping—the room was
dark so I didn’t disturb her.” _ And
I recall that Alan Deck looked
down toward him Intently, as If ob
serving him a moment
(TO BE CONTINUED)
A Chilling Mystery ““A Poignant Romance
Begins Today With This Opening Installment of
UNCCNFESSED
BY MARY HASTINGS ECADLEY
• Author of "Murder in Room 700"—"Caravans and Cannibals"—
"Favor of Kings"-"On the Gorilla Trair^'Road of Desperation"
“Mixing a love-«tory and a murder, the first as ro
mantic as the second is baffling, Mrs. Bradley has
produced an entertaining novel,’* the Boston Tran
i — - - - —- o_ - -
script says ox tins new
serial novel.
The week-end hogseperty wee proceed
ing gsfly, Ot-li WtHvtied smoothly, ag
ree trminedly. It wee die absence ol the
muonngiy dmudziu new zorier, woft
Harrtden, from the dtaner sod die speo
POOCBl Chft t fifBt jm«e
tamd^toJTd^fai’Sle^rSbbe^bJw
her window. A murderer, impelled bf i
mow obscure motive, molded a chain of
malignant false does that drew Leila Se
TOW) youtnnu duc cicver art cxiac, into an
ImMlowe web of futh. How Ldh broke
■ that chain *nd made her heart's choice be
tween two men provides a modern mjatery
rocnanca at once btSfinf chuninf<
in T|ii$ Paper
what
High Hat Folks.
Beverly hills, calif.
—Once I thought the cli
max of utter self-satisfaction
was attained in Massachusetts.
When you met a Bostonian of
Old Plymouth Rock stock
who, in addition, had gone
through Harvard, It was as though
you met an egg which had been laid
about:
Irvin 8. Cobb
twice ana now
times successfully.
Sometimes this
type made me say
to myself that may
be It might have
been better If the
Mayflower had been
making a round
trip.
But now this
coast takes the
chest* expanding
championship right
era seaboard. Out here la a sojourn
ing Englishman who heretofore was
not notably distinguished; didn’t
have a single hyphen to his name. Bat
he wrote home congratulating King
Edward on his accession and has
Just had an acknowledgment signed
by none other than the king’s fourth
assistant deputy equerry, and now
the delirious recipient can hardly
wait to be snatched up to glory so
he may pause at the golden gates
Just long enough to give In his or
der for an extra over-sized halo and
then, with that hallowed document
clutched to his inflated bosom, stroll
through paradise snooting the heav
enly host.
• • •
Original Native Sons.
RIGHT In the heart of Los An
geles the bones of perhaps our
first climate-booster have Just been
dug up. If be lived 50,000 years ago,
as some experts figure, that would
seem to make him an original na
tive son, but If, as others think,
he only dates back 16,000 years, he
was probably an early settler from
the Middle West who got bogged
down In the primeval ooze on his
way to an Iowa state picnic.
This certainly puts those uppity
Florida folks In their place. The
only thing they’ve dug up lately was
a canal, and they may have to put
that back. The celery growers don’t
like It, and when yon come between
a Florida celery grower and his cel
ery it’s Just the same as trying to
rob a tigress of her young.
• * •
Governor Hoffman's Motives.
Notwithstanding the ac
cusations of critics In his own
state, it’s hard to believe New Jer
sey's Governor Hoffman was actuat
ed by political ambition In the
course he took in this ghastly
Hauptmann case, because, while he
created for himself a strong per
sonal following, so many of the boys
who’d probably like to vote with his
side are unfortunately being de
tained at present In places like Sing
Sing and Alcatraz and Leavenworth,
where there’s no voting done. „
• • •
Lady Luck’s Favorites.
ONE of the main winners In the
recent sweepstakes, a mere
youth, lamented being alone in the
world and having nobody to share
his good fortune with. That’ll be
the smallest of the young man’s
worries.
Inside of forty-eight hours he'll
have more kinfolks than a Potomac
shad. By the end of a week he’ll be
entirely surrounded by an impene
trable forest of previously unsus
pected friends and well-wishers.
Also stock promoters, automobile
salesmen, income tax collectors and
life Insurance agents; affectionate
females (object, matrimony and ali
mony In the order named) and citi
zens on fpot or hitch-hiking. As for
distant relatives, he’ll begin think
ing he must be part Belgian hare—
and they won’t stay dlstapt, either.
Nothing renews old family ties
like coming Into a large chunk of
unexpected currency.
New Spring Finery.
'BY do the new fashions al
VV ways light on the wrong fe
males, or vice versa, as the case
may he?
When white shoes prevailed the
lassies with the most robust feet
went to them unanimously, probably
because a white shoe makes any
foot look bigger.
As skirts climbed knee-high and
then on ’way uptown, ’twas the
maiden with the bow-legs who wore
hers the highest. She would.
The damsel who’s kind of startled
looking anyhow just will pluck her
eyebrows, thereby enhancing the
suggestion of a sheered squlnch owl.
And now that bangs are coming
In—and coming down—the style
won’t be favored first by the young
girl who already resembles a new
ly hatched robin and so could get
away With that sort of thlpg. It’ll
be none other than the middle-aged
sister who is, as the poet says, kind
of horse-faced to start with, and
then all she’ll need is a floral horse
shoe around her neck to look like a
derby winner.
Were it not for the .foolish things
men wear, we safely could say the
foolish things women wear are the
CooUebest things anybody ever wore.
Tall Tales
8
A# TUd to:
FRANK £. HAGAN mid
ELMO SCOTT WATSON
A Tribute to the Master
IT MAT be news to some that
Baron Munchausen, champion
liar of all times, was a real person
who really, did exist (Mo foolin’.)
The real Baron Munchausen was
bom la 1720 In the little town of
Bodenwerder, on the Weser river,
Germany. Like other German
yonths of his day he served as an
officer of the Russian army against
the Turks. Retiring at the age of
thirty, he returned to live and to
talk.
The baron's delightful conception
of a talk was to seat himself at a
generously supplied table and re
late his fabulous adventures to a
charmed circle. All his tall tales
were about himself; most of them
concerned also his famous horse.
Once he almost lost the horse.
Riding over snow at night, the Bar
on, so he said, hitched to what
seemed to be a post He went to
sleep, and, on awakening, found the
snow melted and his steed hanging
by the bridle from a church steeple 1
The old home town of Bodenwer
der has erected a monument In
memory of Its most distinguished
son. The monument shows Baron
Munchausen seated on his famous
half-a-horse, the latter drinking at
a fountain but unable to quench
Its thirst because all the water ran
away.
The baron didn’t know It but the
sturdy horse had been cut In two
by a falling portcullis as his master
rode hastily Into a besieged town.
“Relatively Speaking—”
Gordon c. lynch of wii
mette, 111., Is a gentleman
farmer forced by economic condi
tions Into the path of self-preset
vatlon.
“When I started production of
superior eggs west of Waukegan,
111.,” says Lynch, "my setup con
sisted of 257 laying hens; but with
in eight days the establishment In
creased by exactly nineteen of my
own and my wife’s relatives.
“These volunteer devotees of
drum sticks and white meat made
serious inroads on my supply of
hens. Something must be done.
"At great trouble and expense I
obtained two flamingoes and three'
swans which I permitted to Inter
mingle with some chickens in a spe
cial pen. Soon we began to hatch a
peculiar species of fowl,featuring'
a neck which stretched from one
room’s end to another. One neck,
Indifferently cooked and laid out on
a special table, provided food for all
my visiting relatives. Two of them
pretty nearly satisfied the kinfolk
of Mrs. Lynch.
“Our food problem was solved but
other hazards arose. Relatives con
tinued In such numbers I was afraid
the laying hens would become ex
cited. The relatives were Jolly,
carefree, distinctly Informal. So I
added a penguin to the special pen
and his correct, black-and-white at
tire soon contributed a quite for
mal flavor to the necks which dis
couraged guests. Relatively speak
ing, we are now free of all prob
lems.”
Hat Fit for a Queeffi
SHERIDAN GALLAGHER says
that, his annual Income Is the
highest In Chicago. That’s because
he manages the Board of Trade ob
servatory, more than one-ninth of
a mile above the pavements.
Gallagher's office Is directly be
low a statue of Ceres, pagan god
dess of grains and harvests, whose
featureless face and aluminum form
serve also as a smokestack for Its
own and an adjacent building.
"Some folks are difficult to
please,” Gallagher philosophizes,
squinting up at the statue. “That
building next door Is so much lower
a terrific draft Is created by our
smokestack. It’s necessary for shov
els and other articles to be fas
tened in the engine room, else
they'll come flying out around the
feet of Ceres.
One sparkling day a woman visi
tor arrived In the tower. The wind
was right and even the sand dunes
across Lake Michigan were visible.
But the marvelous sight failed to
Impress the lady.
"As she turned her back on It, a
handful of woman’s apparel came
scooting out of the smokestack, a
small hat actually whirling until
finally It rested at a rakish angle
across the smooth brow of Ceres.
"Actuaries tell me the chances
are 143,407 to 1 against such a re
markable performance. But the
woman visitor merely shrugged her
shoulders and departed. The hat,
she remarked coldly", was a last
year’s model.”
• Western Newspaper TJnlom.
The Rattler’s Years
Biologists do not believe a lot of
the notions about rattlesnakes.
They say a rattler's yean are not
the same as the number of rings
be his accumulated on his shaker.
ffiJirotaHy one ring Is added every
Ume the skin Is shed, and this Is
usually three time* a year. But
Jiutice Haa to Fin«
$10 for S]
Bari A. Freeman, Justice
peace of Xuma, Aria., fined
$10 for speeding. Tre
husband for a long time
sought to teach members of j
fly to drive carefully and j
traffic laws,” Judge Fret
"Your fine win be ten dollars.";
this mine or your ten dollarsl" ;
asked when she paid. “Xour*,"i
replied, *T11 get another
night"
his
KILLS INSECTS
ON VIOWIIS • n cm
VC6CTAIUS ft suns
A Place la A* San
No man can make for hlmsdF A
place In the sun If he la conttnuosatr.
seeking shelter under his family treat?
\D-rSchoJh l
I Zmo pcids j
Shiftless People
Shiftless people don’t
They're past that
Bad Elimination Makes
It Easier to Catch a G
With the right sort of food
proper exercise, constipation th
be rare, but in actual thing eo
tions, how few manage to escart
Mr. Clyde Martin, of Ona, w.
recently wrote:
' “If I let myself get consdpat
he explains, “and my system £
with impure matter, I feel bloa
take cola easily, and'feel out of •
in a lot of ways. I will take a!
two good doses of Black-Drats
It seems to cleanse my whole sysi
and I feel like doing my work*
Don't bo
Tormented
Don’t be BAI
Don't give up!
Faithful use of
Glover’s Mange
Medicine and
Glover’sMedkated
Soap foctbe thmmpoo
Sfokuiog Htifud
Dandruff, promotes
seals health. Stan
No Need to Suffer
“Morning Sickness”
acid condition. To avoid it, add moat bo
offset by aikalii—such as magi aria,
Why Physicians Racommand
Milnosia Wafers
These mint-flavored, candy-like wafers ate
pure milk of magnesia in solid form—
the most pleasant way to take it Sack
wafer is approximately equal to a full adafe
doae of liquid milk of magnesia. Chawed
thoroughly, then swallowed, they eaumt
acidity in the month and tlndngNaKjKi
digestive system and insure quick, cans*
piece efimiagdoa of the waste matters that
cause gas, headaches, bloated feehngsaad
a doaen other discomforts. £ M
MOneaia Wafers come in bottles of 20 as4
48, at 35c and 60c respectively, and in
convenient tins for your handbag oootaW
ingl2at20c.EachwaferisapprarimaM>r
one adult dose of milk of magaMKlfll
GLOVERS