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k Uncle Phil M-Tempsr Is Extravagance Ill-temper costs business more money and friends than any other trait of character. Don’t map out a big program of doing good; just do good each minute as you go along. It counts up amazingly. Solitude may induce lonesome I ness, but it was La Bruyere who said, "All our misfortunes come from our inability to be alone." Who finds a friend has found a gem; who is a friend is a diadem. You are doing pretty well if you are just. You are doing more than pretty well. Self-Reliance and Self-Conceit There is as much difference be , ween self-reliance and self-con ceit as there is between the north and south poles—all the difference in the world 1 A long day of hard physical la bor brings greater peace of mind I than any philosophy. We travel to jar our thoughts out of the rut which we can’t get out of. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust, unburnish’d, not to shine in use; as tho’ to breathe were life. Keep your body free of accumulat ed waste, take Dr. Pierce’s Pleas ant Pellets. 60 Pellets 30 cents. Adv. Present Pleasures So use present pleasures that thou spoilest not future ones.— Seneca. ► " I{ Yon Hcwe UQhM ASK YOUR DOCTOR THIS Ask Him Before Giving Your Child an Unknown Remedy Practically any doctor you ask will warn: “Don't give your child unknown remedies without asking your doctor first." When it comes to the widely used children’s remedy — “milk of mag nesia," the standard of the world is established. For over half a century many doctors have said “PHILLIPS’ Milk of Magnesia.” Safe for children. No other is “quite like it.” Keep this in mind, and say “PHIL LIPS’ MILK OF MAGNESIA” when you buy. Now also in tablet form. Get the form you prefer. But see that what you get is labeled “Genuine Phillips* Milk of Magnesia.” Phillips milkof rniLura magnesia Modest Heroes Most of the heroes who get no publicity don’t want it. DISCOVERED Way to Relieve Coughs QUICKLY 11*8 BY relieving both the irritated tissues of the throat and bronchial tubes. One set of ingre dient* in FOLEY’S HONEY & TAR quickly leUeves tiokling, hacking, coughing : I . coat* and soothes irritated throat linings to keep you from ooughing. Another set actually enters the blood, reaches the affected bronchial tubes, loossnfl phlegm, helps break ud cough and speeds recoeery. Check a cough due to a cold it ’FOLfeY^a0 HONE V £« It five, quick relief ud spstdtd-up tecomyi ♦ ' IF used ulhen retirini relieves smarting si big sticky eyes hy WcUAta HU Co-100 Gold St- H.Y. City. WNU—45—37 I Indicated a* an Alteration In the Treatment of RHEUMATIC FEVER, GOUT, Simple Neuralgia, Muscular Aches and Pams At All DrufgUte Jo*. BoOr ASoo, Wholesale Distributee |C0PYftl6HTMNEZ^HWNE5HRWrN^^^^jAANUU^SERVICEJ THURSDAY—Continued —13— "Oh I know now,” Sylvia an nounced. "Doctor Marden wore it on his shoe.” "Sylvia,” Patrick went on, "did you see anybody go out of the Stow house the night of the mas querade—I mean anybody besides Molly Eames and Walter Tread way?” I remembered now that Patrick had asked Sylvia a similar ques tion once before. However, he had not waited for the reply and I had not thought it important. Sylvia leaned her head back against Patrick’s chest She looked up into his face, smiling her most sunny smile. "Yes,” she an swered. "Doctor Marden.” “When did you see him go?” Patrick asked in a friendly way. "And what door did he go out of?” Sylvia snuggled close against him. “You see,” she went on in the most confidential manner, “I went out into the kitchen. Nobody was there. All the girls had gone downstairs into the cellar to—I for get what—Oh, I know, they wanted to look at the ice cream.” Patrick made big eyes at her. “All of them?” he asked in an astounded voice. “Every one of them!" Sylvia re plied with finality. “You mean that there wasn’t a single one of the girls there?” Pat rick kept it up. “Not Sarah, nor Bessie, nor Caddie, nor Jessie, nor Little Alice-” “There wasn’t anybody but me,” Sylvia asserted. “Wasn’t that wonderful?” Patrick commented. “Go on and tell me about Doc tor Marden,” he said. “Well, Doctor Marden came out into the kitchen.” “Did he see you?” “Yes.” “What did he say?” “He didn’t say anything. He put ted his finger on his lips—just like this.” Sylvia’s tiny forefinger and thumb moved upwards to press her lips close but the lips pouted out wards as they emitted a gentle, “Sh—sh—sh!” “And didn’t you say anything?” Sylvia’s eyes grew sparkly with mischief. “No, I didn't say a word. I just did this.” She put her fore finger to her lips and emitted a “Sh—sh—sh!” nuu uicu wuai. vuu wvviui den do?” “Well, he went out through the pantry and into the garage and I heard him open that little door in the back wall of the garage.” Idiots all of us! Suddenly I re membered that little doorl Of course Patrick had posted no po liceman there. It was extremely unlikely that any guests would en ter that door, would even remem ber its existence—if indeed they had ever known of it Mattie her self rarely used it "I should have thought Doctor Marden would have got all dirty going out that way,” Patrick com mented. “Oh,” Sylvia explained, “he weared his long dark cape. It was in the garage.” “How do you know he put it on?” “He came back to the door of the kitchen and he said, ‘Sh—sh— sh!’ and he putted his finger to his lips again. And I said, ‘Sh—sh— sh!’ and I putted my finger to my lips.” I knew the garment very well. The heavy, dark cape that the French peasants wear. Doctor Mar den’s tall, thin figure in that dark blue cape and the dark blue beret which matched it was an accepted detail of the Second Head roads. “And did you see Doctor Marden come back to tbe party?” Patrick asked. “Yes." "Did he come back soon?” "Yes.” “Was It a long time like this?” Patrick put his hands about a yard apart. “Or a little time like this?” Patrick drew his hands towards each other until the space of a foot lay between them. “It was a littler time like this,” Sylvia answered. With the utmost care, she placed her slim, brown little paws first about nine inches apart; then about six. Patrick kissed her. "And were you still in the kitchen when Doc tor Marden came back?” "Yes.” “Who was there?” “Oh lots and lots and lots of people!” “I forget,” Patrick mused aloud, “was Doctor Marden in Mrs. Stow’s house when they unmasked, Syl via? “Oh yes!” Sylvia said. Over Sylvia’s head again Patrick looked at me questioningly. Again I nodded assent “Did Doctor Marden have on his mask the first time he came into the kitchen?” Patrick asked. “Yes,” Sylvia answered. "How did you know it was Doctor Marden then?" "Oh, when he putted his finger to his lips and said, ‘Sh—sh—sh’ he lifted his mask way up and he winked at me.” Patrick sat motionless for a tiny interval. Suddenly, but with ut most gentleness he put /Sylvia down. "I think Sylvia will want to go out and see Sarah Darbe,” he signaled to me. He took the buckle from Sylvia’s reluctant fingers and dropped it into his pocket Then he hurried swiftly across the room to the telephone, called up the sta tion. “Get two men over here at once!” he ordered. “Put them on the Marden house. Don’t let Doc tor Marden leave the house until he hears from me. I’m phoning him to come to Mrs. Avery’s house. See that he comes!” Then he took up the telephone again and called a number. “I’d like to talk with Doctor Marden, please ... Oh good morning. Doc tor Marden. This is Patrick O’Bri en speaking. I’m talking from Mrs. Avery’s house. I’d like to see you here at once. I have some fur ther questions to ask you in regard to the Blaikie case.” It seemed to me that my life had reduced itself to waiting—wait ing for people to come in cars. Waiting—and trying not to trem ble; for I was always poignantly troubled about some friend or oth er. I remember that while I wait ed for Myron Marden, moods chased each other through my mind. One was a kind of despair ing impatience. How long was this ghastly suspense to last? Could it be possible that the mystery would never be solved; that we would all go down to death never knowing who had killed Ace Blaikie? The other was more desperate. I kept reminding myself, that after all, I really knew—of my own knowl edge—nothing about Myron Marden and his granddaughter. I had ac cepted them on their face value. I had accepted them on the ac ■ ■■ II II I I II ill I I 1 1 “Oh I Know Now,” Sylvia An nounced. ceptance of Ace Blaikie and Bruce Hexson. But now I recalled to my self how easily friendships were made between men who were in the World war . . . out of nothing . . . out of anything . . . fleeting as a whisper . . . strong as iron cables . . . Yet every instinct I had, ev ery intuition, every ounce of that judgment which comes from experi ence of the world kept telling me, kept shouting to me that these two were everything I thought they were. That last feeling arose so strong ly in me when Myron Marden soon entered the room that again the tears pricked for a salty instant in my eyes. He came immediately over to my chair, bowed in his court ly continental way over my hand, turned with a "Good morning, Mr. O’Brien!” to Patrick. I had not seen him since the fu neral. I noted how pale and tired he was then. This day he looked ravaged. “Won’t you sit down?” I asked. Doctor Marden did not sit down. He stood—his whole graceful easy length subtly emanating question— and looked at Patrick. Patrick, who had risen as he en tered and was still standing, steadi ly returned that gaze. Rarely have I seen a greater contrast in men. Marden exuded that unanalyzable suggestion, alien in manner and clothes, which expatriates so often acquire unconsciously; his deep dark coloring; his distinguished, ir regular aquilinity; Patrick with his perfect athlete’s figure, so light in pose, so perfect in poise and bal ance, his sun-shot Irish coloring, his regular Celtic features. Patrick explained, “I want to ask you some questions, Doctor Mar den. I ventured to suggest that you come here as I have been us ing Mrs. Avery’s home as a sort of annex to the police station. It makes the whole business a little less unpleasant and we have no kibitzers. You realize that more evidence in this Blaikie case comes in from time to time. Then we have to go over what everybody else has said and check up. I wanted to ask you a few more questions in regard to Mrs. Stew’s masquerade.” “Quite!” Doctor Marden assent ed. He sat down. I arose. "I think I’U ask you to excuse me," I said. Both Doctor Marden and Patrick raised restraining hands. “I would very much prefer to have you stay, Mrs. Avery,” Doctor Marden de clared courteously. I looked toward Patrick. "It’s what the doctor wants, as far as I’m concerned,” he said with a ges ture of the shoulders typically Irish and amusingly like the French shrug. ”1 must tell you. Doctor Mar den,” Patrick added, thrusting his keenest glance across the space between them, “that in case of sus picion being turned upon you, any thing you say here may be held against you and that there is a witness present” Doctor Marden made a depreca tory gesture outward of his long, slender hands. “Ask me anything you want Mr. O’Brien. I shall avail myself of your suggestion and answer only the questions I wish to answer.” I became conscious of mounting excitement. Everybody else who had submitted to Patrick’s inter rogatories under my roof—Sarah Darbe, Bessie Williams, Molly Eames, Walter Treadway, Marga ret Fairweather—had saifl In effect: “Ask me anything you want I shall tell the whole truth.” Perhaps Doctor Marden felt that he had made a false step; for he immediately added, “I have no an ticipation that you will ask me any question that I shall not prefer to answer fully.” “Doctor Marden,” Patrick began, “at what time did you go to the masquerade?” “Somewhere between half-past nine and ten,” Doctor Marden an swered. “How did you get there? By car?” “No. It was such a beautiful night and as there is only concrete road between our house and the Stow house, my granddaughter suggested that we walk. Besides she thought that there might be some difficulty in parking.” “What time did you get home?’* “I left earlier than my grand daughter. Half-past twelve I should say.” “Doctor Marden, between the time you arrived and the time you went home, did you leave the Stow house?” Doctor Marden answered instant ly, “Yes.” “Why did you leave it?” “Well, for no reason or several, just as you choose. I am not much of a dancing man, Mr. O’Brien, and after I’d been there about an hour, I began to find it very hot and also I wanted a smoke.” He smiled and Patrick met his charming candid amusement with a warm Irish appreciation. “What time was this?” “I should say about half-past ten—certainly not much before and certainly not much later.” “By what door did you go out?” “Through the kitchen and out the little door in Mrs. Stow’s garage.” “Why did you go out so secretly?” “In order to be alone. My head was buzzing a little with the warm air and I didn’t want anybody to come with me.” “Did you put on your outer clothes r “Yes. I retrieved my long cape and beret from the garage where I left them when I came in.” “Did anybody see you go out?” “No! Yes!” Doctor Marden re considered; smiled reminiscently; smiled with that tender gentleness which I might describe as my fa vorite of his many charming ex pressions. “Mrs. Avery’s little niece, Sylvia. She had gone out into the kitchen. For some reason, none of the maids was there.” “Did she recognize you?” “Yes. I lifted my mask.” “Did she speak?” "Before she could say anything I put my finger to my Ups and she kept perfect silence.” “Where did you go?” Patrick asked next “I took a Uttle stroll,” Doctor Marden answered, “through the meadow which stretches between Mrs. Stow’s and Mrs. Avery’s house.” “You were in costume. Doctor Marden. Did your walk injure it— I mean, dew, vines, weeds, etc.?” “There’s a very pleasant Uttle path between the two places,” Doc tor Marden informed Patrick po Utely. I had a feeling that X was watch ing the preliminaries to a duel of two skiUed fencers. “I went through the opening in the hedge, across Mrs. Avery’s drive, across the lawn in front of her gardens and onto the path lead ing to what Mrs. Avery call* the Spinney.” “Did you see anybody on the place or on the road?" “Nobody.” “Go on!” “I walked into the Spinney. As I entered I heard voices.” He paused politely. “Does this interest you, Mr. O’Brien?” “Very much. Whose voices were they?” “There were two voices. One was a woman’s. I did not recog nize it The other was a man’s— Doctor Blaikie’s.” “Did you hear what they said?” “I heard nothing!” ‘But as you got nearer-” “When I realized that there was a tete-a-tete going on in the Spinney, I stopped, started to turn back but the voices stopped and I heard footsteps retreating. I waited a minute and kept on until I came across Doctor Blaikie.” “You did not see the lady at all?” “No.” “You spoke with Doctor Blaikie of course.” “Yes—for several minutes.” “And then you went on?” “Yes.” “Was your conversation a long one?” “A very brief one.” “What was the nature of your talk?” “It's one of those talks that you can’t reproduce because really nothing was said. I knew that a lady had just left the Spinney. I think he knew I knew that. I don’t know whether he was embarrassed or not I was a little conscious of the situation. I think I told him that I’d come out because the house was so warm and that I wanted to smoke-” “Had you lighted a cigar yet?” “No. But I told Doctor Blaikie that I was going back to the house and I asked him to join me in a smoke.” “What did he say to that?” “He said no; that he was re turning at once to the dance.” “Did you go after that?” “As I remember, that was my last remark." “You left Doctor Blaikie in the Spinney?” “Yes.” xiaa ne tumea—naa ue siaricu to leave the Spinney?" “No.” “By what path did you go out from the Spinney?” “I continued along the path that runs beside Mrs. Avery’s Little House; then up onto the road and then back to the Stows’.” “Did you smoke on the way back?” “Yes—one cigarette.” “Did you meet anybody else on the way back?” “No.” “How did you enter the house?” “By the garage door—as I left It.” “Did you leave your cape and cap there?” “Yes.” “Did anybody see you eome In?” “I think nobody noticed it; for the reason that the kitchen was full of masks. They had come out, I think, for water. “You were there then at the un masking?” “Yes.” , “And what time did you say you went home?” “About half-past twelve.* “You walked home? , “Yes. “Did you go straight up the Head? “Yes—exactly the way I came. “When you were in the Spinney, did you hear any noise in the bushes, let us say, or among the trees? “I heard nothing.” "Don’t you yourself think, Doc tor Marden, that it’s a little strange that you did not volunteer this information the first time I talked with you.” Doctor Marden smiled. “I think it might seem so. But what would you have done, Mr. OBrien? There was a woman involved. I didn’t know what sort of trouble I might get her into.” “Well, of course you realize," Patrick advanced, “that some peo ple might say that you invented the woman to save yourself.” Doctor Marden bowed in a polite acquiescence. He made no com ment “What to your best knowledge and belief was Doctor Blaikie’s frame of mind while you talked with him? Did you get any im pression?” “He gave me the impression that he was extremely happy—trium phant definitely triumphant. I might say, he breathed, he emanated tri umph.” Patricks thick • lashed eyelids dropped. He seemed to reflect deep ly. “Well, I guess that will be all,” he said. “Wait a moment though. I’m the poorest hand in the world at remembering figures.” He reached into his waistcoat pock et brought out the little red leath er notebook. “I’d like to take down the hours as you remember them— of your arrival and departures from the Stow house.” : (TO BE CONTINUED) Ability of Queen Bees The queen bee is able to lay ei ther fertilized or unfertilized eggs, according to the size of the cells in which they are to develop. Ferti lized eggs are laid either in small worker cells or in large irregular queen cells, and developed into queens or workers. Unfertilized eggs are laid in drone cells, and those that develop become drones. ~Dfwv\ht> about Hollywood “Rifts” and “Probes” Beverly hills, calif. —Out here, our two fa vorite headlines are “Rift” and “Probe,” one signifying that some ideal marriage be tween movie stars has begun to split at the seams and the other that some functionary has been in office long enough for the professional investi gators to start investigating. In between, somebody is either trying to nut Sister Aimee McPher son in a hole or get Tom Mooney out of Jail. So far, neither undertaking has succeeded, but folks keep right on trying. Last month, it was Sister Aimee’s turn. This month it’s Tom Mooney’s. But when other sources of news fail, it’s fine to be able to tall back on good Irvin S. Cobb old reliable “Rift” and dependable, stanch old “Probe.” • • • Poor Lo’s Renaissance. ' I 'HE government says the surviv ing Indians are actually in creasing in number. I started to add that this proves the .Indians are holding their own, but, since we’ve left them very little of their own to hold, I stayed my hand. The Navahoes always have been the most independent and aloof of all the tribesmen. For the most part, they continue to live a nomadic ex istence, following their ancient be liefs and ceremonials, refusing to be caged in towns, yet, numerically and in material possessions, they outgrow any other tribe. Can it be that the white man’s culture, which we so jealously strive to cram down the gullets of red people and black and brown and yellow, isn’t always what the victims need? But, of course, to say that is prac tically to admit our civilization might have a few tiny flaws in it, whereas we know it to be the one perfect creation of man, and for proof point to its crowning achieve ment, the late World war. * • • The Spoils System. THIS isn’t a criticism, it’s a timid little prediction based on all the political experience that the past yields to us: Pledges of curtailment in govern mental expenditures, as eman ating from White House sources, are undoubtedly sincere. But Andy Jackson or whoever it was first coined the line, expressed the correct idea when he said that to the victor belonged the spoils— and not to let them spoil too long either. So it shouldn’t surprise anybody or deeply shock anybody, except the few G. O. P. boys still scattered through congress, if Pennsylvania and Missouri and certain other states should go right on getting plenty out of the treasury for con tinued relief work on behalf of Sen ator Guffey and Mr. Pendergast and such-like benefactors of the human race. Not that the ins are any greed ier than the outs; they’ve merely improved in sagacity since the days when nearly all the smart wolves seemed to be Republicans and near ly all the half-witted sheep seemed to be Democrats. But Passamaquoddy might as well make up its mind to being sort of neglected from now on. Maine, she ain’t been actin’ right. * • • France’s Inconsistency. FRANCE has just lent a vast sum to Poland, and Poland, it is admitted, will use the money to increase its war strength. If Poland should repudiate the debt and de fault on the interest, a howl will go up from “La Belle France” that’ll ring around the world. But, of course, it will continue to remain an evidence of soulless greed for Uncle Sam even to inti mate that France might pay us a little something on account against the enormous amount she owes us for borrowed money which she has used to build up her army and also, it would appear, to pass along to Poland so that Poland may build up hers. If consistency be a jewel. France is practically out of jewelry. IRVIN S. COBB e—WNU Service. Has Many Waterfront Lota The City of Miami Beach, situated on a peninsula about nine miles long and one mile wide has, per haps, more waterfront lots than any city in the world — not excluding Venice. Beside the Atlantic ocean on one side and Biscayne bay on the other, there are some half a dozen waterways cutting hither and thither through the island city. All-Woman Jury Fast The first all-woman jury in the history of the £tate of New Jer sey recently sat in the jury box in Second District court of Newark. The jurors took only 15 minutes to make their decision. I Home Heating , Hints ’iUrJzS Keep Furnace Ashpit Clean Oat Better Heat, Prevent Costly Repairs COMETIMES we are prone to ^ grow careless and get the idea that all a furnace ashpit is for is to receive ashes as they come from the grates. As a matter of fact, however, receiving the ashes is but one of three important things an ashpit does. Besides holding ashes, it performs the very necessary function of receiving air from the cellar and helping dis tribute it uniformly throughout the fuel bed. Those things being true, it is dangerous to neglect keeping the ashpit clean. Accumulated ashes will cut off incoming air circula tion and hamper the complete combustion of fuel, creating trou blesome clinkers. An ashpit that is choked up with ashes is quite liable to overheat the grates, re sulting in their warping or break ing. This, of course, means an expense in replacing the damaged grates. So, I say again, don’t take chances. Keep the ashpit cleaned out. Take a few minutes every day to remove the dead ashes. Early Hardships The Kansas pioneers lived hard lives. They had no fountain pens to leak on their fingers. No tele phones to ring while they were taking baths. No motor cars to get flat tires or run out of gaso line. No radios to burn out tubes or be overcome by static. No brush salesmen to ring their door bells. And no newspapers to make them mad. It took real men to stand up under such hardships.— Philadelphia Inquirer. MUSCLES FELT STIFF AND SORE Got Quick^N RELIEF^* From Pain If muscles in your legs, arms, chest, back or shoulders feel stiff and sore, get a bottle of Hamlins Wizard Oil and get quick relief. Rub it on—rub it in. Warms—soothes—gives wonderful com fort. Will not stain. At all druggists. Crushed Virtue Virtue is like precious odors, most fragrant where they are in censed or crushed; for Prosperity doth best discover vice; but Ad versity doth best discover virtue. —Bacom DON'T RUB YOUR EYES Robbing your eyes grinds invisible particles of dust and dirt right into the delicate tissues, making the irritation just that much worse. A much better way, as thousands have discovered, is to use a little Murine in each eye—night and morning. Murine may be depended on to re* I lieve eye irritation because it is a reliable eye i preparation containing 7 active ingredients of I known value in caring for the eyes. In use foe I 40 years. Ask for Murine at your drug store. In Mutual Sympathy Nature has concatenated our fortunes and affections together with indissoluble bands of mutual sympathy.—Barrows. At Your Best! Free From Constipation Nothing beats a clean system for health! At the first sign of constipation, take purely vegetable Black-Draught for prompt relief. Many men and women say that Black Draught brings such refreshing relief. By Its cleansing action, poisonous effects of constipation are driven out; you soon feel better, more efficient. Black-Draught costa leas than anal other laxatives. BUCK-DRAUGHT A GOOD LAXATIVE . FROM GIRL TO WOMAN Mr*. T. A. Hagfcr at 1732 WUUnaon St., Char lotte, N. C., laid: “I ova much to Dr. Fiana'l Fa- . vorik Prescription far tha help it gave ma when X waa just a girL X would hare a (mat deal at Buf fering. due to minor fane Dr. Pierce'* Favorite Prescription and ttt tonic effects proved to be what I needed to stimulate my appetite and to retie** nay disturbance*.h Buy now at yam date. •■■'Hi
The Wallace Enterprise (Wallace, N.C.)
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Feb. 4, 1937, edition 1
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