Fame And Fortune Weekly (no. 1055) (1925 12 18)
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DECEMBER No The bull, lowering his head, ‘rushed vintiety at the fiseine il: Bob "Rider, aabtioe forward to her assistance, dexterously shoved the long rail between the animal’s fore-legs. The bull went down like a shot, jabbing his head into the red parasol.
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ball FAME AND ‘FORTUNE WEEKLY Seated wreekty Suber tion price, yor Par gat Sr Canada, $4.50; Foreign, $5.00. Harry B. re tot ae ine, 160 at New ° Post-Office at New York, N. NEW YORK, DECEMBER 18, 1925 No. 1055. tered “i s Second Class Matter, October 4, 1870. , under the Act of March 3, Price 8 Cents. A STRUGGLE FOR FAME : OR, THE GAMEST BOY IN THE WORLD ar mee Boy Who Meant to Be Famous. “Soma day I mean to be famous,” said Bob Rider, wagging his head in a dete ed manner. _ . Bob was seated on the bank of a small creek, fishing with a home-made rod, and his remarks were addressed to his particular friend, Sam Sumner, who was perched on a stone by his side engaged in the same amusement, Sam grinned, for the idea that Bob would ever become famous in the sense to which he referred stru him as too ftinny for anything, a » in good truth, Bob did not look at that a moment like a boy destined to become a shining He was dressed in a well-worn suit of pepper- @fid-salt material, rather short at the ankles, - which had been patched over and over again, i His curly brown head was covered with a straw teh, which might have adorned a eanpersitie to’ better advantage. In a word, te leekes just what he etl farm boy, pure and simple. And yet Bob hat a soul that soared away above “the era life of an-agriculturist. ies He hated plowing, sowing, rea » and mow- ’ 4ng, not because of the hard — they entailed, but because the returns were, in his opihion, not - gommensurate with the amount of energy they \ demanded. oe reading and observation had éught him that the most successful people in the world were those who worked with their b ad. ston @ _,.... Squire Harlow, gg Sime ——— _ the peace, the most im + man in _ whose soft, white iets pee: that oer ee _ never been soiled by manual wel — one of the z exhibits Bob used to prove his poin Had Mr. Harlow rea Rear himself in a big city instead of at Paisley Village, Bob believed he would have become three times as wealthy as he ‘was reputed to be. -Bob’s' ambitious ideas had been largely fostered +. contact’ with the prosperous-looking summer ers who came to Paisley and the farmhouses _ Foundabout every year. When Mrs. Rider, soon after becoming 1 a widow, farming Pi ed to fees summer boarders to the t deney, ois madd ths es: Silat aid Cot- Amportan 2 By A SELF @IADE MAN tage,” for effect, though it was fashioned, roomy house, built o: grandfather. She advertised accommodations for thirty-five boarders, and Bob often wondered where she would stow them in the house if such a bunch ever came at one time. Twenty-five was more like her limit, when a third of them were children, and ‘sometimes she had that number at once. At time our story opens it was the middle There were several eet at the “Sunn side” already—Mrs. Hamilton, and her daughter Stella, @ very peetky. and attractive girl, sea the most st a plain, old- of June. Bob was rather emitten with Stelle, but he wgs = to keep tWat fact to Himself. Sam Sumner, whose folks lived on thé adjoining farm, was a frequent visitor at Rider farm. “One: reason for this was that he was Bob’s chum; an Eeeles, Mrs. Rider’s maid-of-all-work. inally by Bob’s — other was his sneaking regard for Polly* : R 29.192 Sam had sg over ‘this afternoon about five o'clock, and he easily persuaded Bob to shake work in the truck patch and: go fishing. The dld mill creek, which ran through the Rider farm, was their fishing-ground, and they had been watching their floats without much success fora . quarter of an hour when Bob made the remark | which opens this chapter. “How do you expect to et , famous, Bob?” asked Sam, with some inte: ae cocked his gye up at his companion = HEY ou’ll never guess, Sam.” Me 0 Pons not—that’s why I asked you.” : wane eat you will you keep it to yourself?” “T don’t ee the istter to leak out, for the ory would never give me a rest on the sub- ys won’t leak out through me. Now, tell me.” “T've written a’ play, Sam, and I believe it's a corker.” “You've written ejaculated Sam, in astonishment. “That's right, ” nodded Bob. mia! | don’t see how you could do it, thous you ate a play—for the theater?” ~ i «
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2 the crack writer of the district school. What put _ the idea into your head?” “You remember, mother had an actor boarding with us the greater part of last summer?” “Yes... His) name\-was William Richmond, wasn’t it?” ; “That was his name. You only saw a little of . him because you were away at your uricle’s place in Delaware most of the summer.” : “What about him? - Did he show you how to ‘ cwrite a play?” : “Yes, he gave me a whole lot of points after I ‘got the scheme well in my head. It came about In this way: When—hold on, I’ve got a bite!” Bob yanked in his line with a silvery-looking, squirming object at the end of it, which he trans- ferred to a patch of grass behind him, rebaited his e hook and cast the»line into the creek again. - “Go. on with your play yarn,” said Sam, im- patiently. é Soon after Mr. Richmond came to board I was up in his room one day, for he and I had got quite chummy, talking with him about the matter. It 3 was a rainy afternoon and he couldn’t go out. He , showed me the manuscript part of a play he was studying for the coming season. I asked him if I could read it, and he said I could, but that it would not interest me as much as if it was the whole play. He showed me that it was just his part, the ‘heavy’ part, as he called it, or villain, with the ‘cues’ and general ‘business.’ The cues «were the last few words spoken by the performer in. the scene with him, if the speech was longer than a short distance, and the business was the action of the play. I don’t suppose you can un- derstand just what Imean, but you would if I had @ printed or written play here, for then I could’ . explain the thikg to you.” e “Well, never mind that. I want to know how you came to write your play.” # “Well, Mr. Richmond said he had a whole. lot of “printed plays, in complete form, in his trunk, and advised me to read one of them instead of his "part. He picked one out for me and J read it that evening and was greatly interested in it. I al- ways had a taste for the drama, anyway, but had mever seen a printed play till that day. The re- sult was, I wanted to read another. He handed me out a dozen, and I read them with more in- -.. terest than any book I ever tackled in my life. In faet, I read every play of any account Mr. Rich- ' mond had in his trunk.” . “How many did he have?” “About a hundred.” ae ' “How eould you read a humdred plays in two ~ months?” — ; ; “T read about sixty of tpem in three weeks.” ~ "You did?” eaeeen ; “Yes. ‘They were not long: A few of them had 60 to- 80 pages, but most of them ran from 24 to - 48 pages.” — ; é “Ts that all?”> _ ' “The shorter plays not performed ‘any: more. The plays performed nowadays are nearly“all studied.from manuscript ¥ -»-..and are not printed as formerly. Mr. Richmond explained to me that a new play is read to the, actors engaged for it at the theater where the re- _ fearsals are to be held. Then the parts are dis- tributed to them for study. Whoever directs the tt .—and then told me how each act ought to be to come that way. were old-fashioned pieces ~ A STRUGGLE FOR FAME rehearsals handles the whole manuscript for ref- erence.” “That’s the way it’s done, is it?” “Yes. Well, Mr. Richmond told me that there’ was more money in a successful play than a sut- cessful book. ‘That interested me, because I was figuring on Writing a book myself, just to try my hand at-it, for I had determined to be an author one of these days. I believe I’m cut out for that kind of work.” = “J guess you could write a good story, all right; but a play—you’re going to let me read the one you’ve made up, aren’t you?” : “T guess so. J told Mr. Richmond one afternoon when he and I were fishing in the creek here that I intended making writing a business. "He seemed. surprised and asked me what I had done in that line. I'told him that I had written a number of short stories for the village paper, and also that I had won the prize for the best essay at the close . of the school term. Afterward he read several of ~ the stories and glanced over the essay. He said my writing showed ability and promise. It was — then I told him that I thought I’d like to write a play some time during the winter, and asked him if he would jive me some points in addition to what I had picked up in the books. He said ha would, and one rainy day we went over the matter tcgether. He sketched out a plot, or scenario, ag he called it. and divided it into four parts or acts, He laid out striking situations or climaxes for the first three acts, the most important of which _ wound up the third act. In fact, he made acom- — plete skeleton play for my instruction—that is, ‘everything but the actual writing of the dialogue — written. I filled part of a gopybook with notes, so — that I wouldn’t lose sight of any important pa ; ticulars. We had other talks on the subject, and when he left for New York he gave nie half a dozen of the printed plays for reference.” ~ sg At that moment the boys were startled by a — succession of: girlish screams coming from a field _ behind them. - : ae CHAPTER I.—The Accident at the Bridge. Just then Sam got a bite, and while he was~— hauling in his line Bob sprang to his feet and ran to the fence close by to see what was the matter. Two girls, whom Bob recognized as Stella’ — Hamilton and Polly Eccles, were running across” the field as hard as they could go, and screaming’ at the top of their voices. ait Following them came a big red bull, belonging to the farm, which had broken through from an adjoining field occupied by three cows. ae Stella Hamilton carried a red silk sunshade, and that doubtless was what attracted the animal. — Bob sprang on the fence and shouted to the girls Then he jumped into the field, seized one of the — top rails and ran toward the frightened girls. Ry As-Bob approach them the girls separated, Polly making a dash for the opposite fence. = “Bob, Bob! Save me, save me!” screamed Stella, dropping her sunshade at last and making — a fresh effort to reach the fence which Sam was just climbing over. ” ee his head, rushed viciously at_ - “The bull, lowering the fleeing girl.
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A STRUGGLE FOR FAME Bob Rider, rushing forward to her assistance, dexterously shoved the long rail between the ani- mal’s forelegs. ® The bull went down as if shot, jabbing his head into the red parasol. ““Quick, Miss Stella,” cried Bob. “Sam will help you over the fence.” Then he braced himself to head the bull off - again if he continued the pursuit. aoe oS however, had no further interest in e'girl. His attention was wholly taken =» by the sun- shade, which he tossed over his head and followed up for a fresh attack when it came down. Bob *saw that it would be foolish, ag well ag _ useless, to attempt to rescue the pretty sunshade from the angry animal. In fact, its usefulness as a parasol was about oer, as already there were two gaping rents in e silk. So, leaving it to its fate, he threw the rail over his shoulder’ and ran toward the fence himself. Stella was on the other side, sitting on the grass, quite exhausted by her terror and hard run. Bob replaced the rail and joined her, while Sam hur- _ Tied around the field to meet Polly Eccles on the other side. es _ “Oh. dear, oh, dear! I never was so frightened — in all my life before!” panted Miss Hamilton. Tb “ee hadn’t come to my aid, Bob, that animal . would have killed‘me, I know he would.” “T’d run into the field if there were a dozen bulls there sooner than have you come to harm,” Baid Bob, gallantly. Pes. _ “Would you, really?” asked the girl, archly, _ “I would,” answered Bob. “I should consider ' it my duty. In fact, it-is every boy’s duty to : d up for a girl in distress.” “Well, I’m very grateful to you for saving me, Bob,” ak to be in that field?” riend, Sam Summer, . “Blow came you and Poll -- “J knew you and your 4 were fishing somewhere along the creek and I per- _ guaded Polly to come along with me to try and find you. We took a short-cut across the ‘fields, and we had hardly started to cross that one be- _ fere the bull dashed through a break in the fence or. the ggher side and flew at us. Polly shouted -to me to run for my life, and we both fied, ‘Screamings- hard.as we could.” ~ “Come over to the creek. I must and line if a fish hasn’t run off with it.” : “How many? fish hie ioe caught?” asked the girl, as she accompanied him. i “Sam and I only caught one each.” * “Ts that all? Aren’t there many; fish in the ** creek?” : : - } “Lots of them, but they don’t bite as well on a _ sunny day as they do on a cloudy one.” “Let me fish a little while, will you?” asked Stella, eagerly, when Bob found _ paratus just as he had left it. “It’s too Jate, I guess. “It’s about time for us to _ return for Supper.” loud-mouthed % bell ringing in the distance proved that Bob was right. bd _ **Tt’s too bad that we didn’t come. down here - earlier,” said Stella, regretfully, as she watched Bob roll up his line, | “Maybe Sam and.I may come here to-morrow pftarnoon. If we do we'll bring vou bor af Ss _@ars, they rose to their feet and ret my pole | his fishing ap- ° 8 “That will be splendid. You'll let fhe figh some, won’t you?” : a As long as you want. Conte, let us go ack. When they reached the house Bob went to his room and made a complete change in his persona’ pearance. When he came downstairs he look like a different boy altogether. His face was washed, his hair neatly brushed, and he had on @ good suit of clothes, shoes and one 3 He ate his supper in the kitchen with Polly, and then went to the barn and harnessed one the horses to the light wagon. : His mother expected a new boarder from New York, and he had to go to the railroad station, three miles beyond the village, for him and his trunk. He also had to stop at Paisley on his way back and wait for the mail to be sorted so that if there was anything for Sunnyside Cottage he could bring it back with him. The mail-bag was brought to the village by the driver of the carryall which made two daily trips to and from the station. aes ig a small place, Paisley re- ceived a’ heavy mail. The bulk of the letters, however, were addressed to the Paisley Novelty Co., which advertised extensively in certain pub- lications having a wide circulation, consequently both the morning, and: afternoon mail-bags car- ried a large number of registered letters con- taining various sums.of money, as well as letters enclosing postal orders. Half-way between Paisley and the station was a bridge which crossed a creek. ; - When Bob came in sight of this bridge he saw, through the ‘gathering dusk, two men kneeling at one end of the sttucture apparently examining it. The sound of his wagon wheels reaching their sauntered off ‘down the creek a little way and then stood looking into the water. Bob wondered a little at their actions, for they seemed to be strangers, and as he drove by. the spot where they had been crouching he looked in- tently at the planks to see what it was that had apparently interested them. ; He saw nothing out of the way, and came to the econclusion that one of the men might have diopned something between the cracks and the pair was looking for it. 7 , As he passed the end of the bridge his sharp eye a ae a short, stout crowbar lying on the — ground. Its presence there rather puzzled him, and he could not help connecting it with the two ee. Before he reached the station the circumstance slipped from his.mind, and as the train was not yet in sight he put in the time talking to the driver of the carryall. j ; It was now dark, and about the only illumina- tion came from the dimly-lighted station. In a few minutes the train came ®t « Several nassengers alighted and the mail-bag — was thrown to the driver of the carryall, who’. — . tossed another bag into:the car in return. The expected boarder for Sunnyside Cottage failed to show up-and so Bob found that he had had his ride for nothing. sue He was about starting off when the station agent hailed him, , : “Say, Rider, what did you come for—a arder?” ' f eee - > Be Pu
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4 Z A STRUGGLE FOR FAME . “Yes” answered Bob; “but he didn’t come by stringer should be dislodged from its resting the train, according to arrangement.” pe as it fitted into a kind of niche that ought to _ “Want-to earn half*a dollar and do a lady a have held it quite snugly. 5 ees faxor by going a mile out of your way?” The passengers had all been rescued from their _ ““Well, I don’t object. Where does the lady wet and uncomfortable positions, and when Bob — want to go?” : ee ., came up the driver and two men passengers were “To the Brookside Farm. The people there did busy removing the horse from between the shafts, — not come after her.” At length he was. released and Jed over to the “Al) right,” answered the “boy. * other end of the bridge, where he was tied toa ft e agent went back in the waiting-room, and. tree. : ‘presently returned _with a stylishly-dressed Tt did not appear. that there had been any more woman, carryine a handbag. é serious casualties than a bump on one of the chi- __ “This boy will take you over to the Brookside ~ dren’s heads from contact with a seat, and a Farm, madam,” said the agent. - : sprained ankle which one of the women had sus- - “Thank you,” replied the lady. “It is rather an tained. . : - embarrassing predicament I’m in by the failure of ‘The driver weleomed the appearance of Bob a the people to send a conveyance for me.” with satisfaction, as his young, muscular arms “’m sorry that I can’t afford you anything bet- would be of great assistance in h elping to’ right - ~ ter than an open ‘seat, ma’am,” said Bob, raising the carryall. i “~~ his hat politely. x “Well we'd better pe F 2 co > “Tm thankful to be able to get over to the farm cle,” he “with: “Tt d Sa sees one eee i uy Was reper, Lie ety jured any by the fall. That is fortunate, as IT have — ‘ - Bob then assisted his passenger up on the seat. several women an fantiten ake ve masa THEE with, the. tude, HideEeh eal village. ee Rot Ah ae 7 peste nei ; the agent. . getting the carryall.on its wheels again and haul- : Bob helped him land it in the back of the ing it off the bridge, as there are sie of nea we a wagon, and, there being nothing more to detain the jop,” a Og him, he mounted alongside the ‘lady and drove off “Six?” replied Bob. “Where are they? I only up the road leading to the village. gee four, including myself. aN Bob found that his passenger was not only a ; -+ handsome woman, but a very vivacious and enter- taining talker. : By Seed I _roa¢ A eum in the road brought them’ in sight of a men eae ioe They jumped on the seat swinging lantern about a quarter of a mile ahead, D: which Bob knew was suspended from the rear of the carryall. . : . “That's a funny thing for th do,” - “Is that a vehicle ahead?” asked the lady. th t's a funny thing, for them to do,” answe aA ; th ittey ‘Pai e driver, in a tone of annoyance. “They ap- ee “Yes, - That's the carryall that goes to Paisley-. peared to be very anxious to help me out of the ‘It carries the mail and any passengers bound for PV", ee: - Sana Ee sRicoiie g sureties etre esd aethae, Bob thought their conlluct was decidedly odd. 4 eargall-borse da he stepped upon the bridge over Pe tae there was no doubt but that they had cage arog ee “4 ; spon a and so the driver had to figure on Phe next-instatit he heard a crash, which was mn ting the carryall without their afd. . ce followed by the sudden disappearance of the lan- Hiieh to be no easy a ane took half an tern, shouts and the screams of he lH er prot Pint ie of, pushing and haulin mit My. gracious!” exclaimed Bob, touching up his At last it was done, and th hic] ulec : mare. “ An accident has happened at the bridge}” ae the badee - , and the vehicle was hauled “Now we'll have to repair the bridge,” said Bob. : ‘ oe ee paces Sidon he ah ay See fi -don’t know that that is our business. That jo o CHAPTER Tfl.—The Lost Mail Pouch. ‘ palonee to the ee ee bts Bras ; en Bob drove up to the scene of the accident “Never mind the county authorities,” answered = lead a group of excited persons, of whom ae I've got to get my team across. T’ve vot & three were women and two children, gathered at /ady passenger bound for the Brookside Farm, a esue end oF the bridge. my : and I Pecege land her at her destination some “He dismounted and joined the crowd. *— __ time to-nig Wieser, : as -- He saw that the end of one of the stringers had “Let her get out,” said the driver, “and t tA we'll see if we can’t lead your horse and wago _ across"the bridge as it lies.” v5 “You couldn’t get it over without upsetting it. The planks are’ all displaced at the low end and the mare would fall through. You’ve got to me repair the bridge. I helped you righ team, and turn,about.is fair play.”= ‘ ‘Neither the™driver nor his male passenger cared to undertake the work, much to Bob’s _gust and indignation. _ bare tare, The boy kicked vigorously, but it didn’t do ar good. - 2% : SONS Gale a ~ “DIL tell: you: what I'll do,” said the drive Ses = fe SRE BeBe 5 oh \igs ee x ; Baily ' « £
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4 8 A gp RUGCLE - the carryall at last. “I'll take your passenger and_ her trunk out to the Brookside Farm, seeing that she’s in-a bad fix. That’s the very best I can do under the circumstances. It will make me plaguey ~~ late in getting to the village, but I suppose it can’t be helped,” 7 Bob agteed to this, as it relieved him of the journey. and the half a dollar he had expected to get for the trouble did not cut a great deal of ice with him, ey as |: / He knew that there was a place a quarter of a _ mile’ down the creek where he would be able to cross, but he would have to pass. through a small wood to get there. Py _ - Bob returned te hislady passenger and ex- _ plained the predicament he was in.- “The driver of the carryall has consented to go out of his way ahd take vou and your trunk to Brookside Farm, ma’am,” he said, “for there rials os 4 + there. I’m sorry that I couldn’t carry out my . contract and take you to your destination, but these men won’t fix the bridge, and so I can’t get ~ across thé creek at this point.” . “Blow will you get across?” she asked, in a _ ‘tone of some concern, as if she were greatly inter- ‘ested in her young driver’s plight. _.“There’s a ford a short distance further down _ ‘the creek. I'll have'to drive through that wood to _ reach it, and I’m not sure I can get through.” “That’s too bad,” she replied, sympathetically. ~ “Tam really sorry to lose your company. You're _ the most interesting boy I think I ever met.” “Thank you, ma’am, for the compliment.” The lady laughed musically. _ “Do you live in the village?” she asked. ~ “No. My mother owns the Rider Farm, known - to summer folks as the Sunnyside Cottage. It’s about a mile beyond Paisley.” f “Really, I’m sorry now that I’m not going there,” said the lady. “Still, I might make a. - change in my arrangements right now. Do you _ think your mother could accommodate me?” “Oh, yes. We've only got four boarders at . present.” ( : ' : “Tt would serve the Brookside Farm people - wight to lose me because they. failed to meet me at the-station. I suppose the carryall would take - me as far as the village. Thén you could meet --me there after you succeeded in getting across _ the creek.” ‘ ; 5a “71 do that, ma’am. You can stay at the post- office till I get there, which will probably be in half an hour. The driver will like that much bet- «ter, for he isn’t stuck on going out to the Brook _ side Farm after the delay he’s had hére. I'll speak to him about the matter, if you wish -me to.” : Be ae ‘Do so, if you please,” said the lady, apparently | delighted with the change she had made in her arrangements. : % * _ The women and children had been carried safely over the creek. by this time and were seated in ae the carryall once more. _ The horse was hitched in the shafts and all seemed in readiness to proceed. _ The driver, however, with his remaining lan- & aaa tear one having been smashed, and his doesn’t seem to be any other way for you to get . aut ard te WONG. 2 1 FOR FAME ~ “ 5 bridge when Bob started to cross the shaky and inclined structure. £ es “What have you lost?” asked the boy, curi- ously, of the driver, who was poking about in the bed of the creek with a stick. oe mail-bag is gone,” he replied, in worried nes. “The mail-bag!” cried Bob. “Yes; it must have slipped out of the front of the wagon when she upset.” . _ “Where did you carry it? Under the front seat?” asked Bob. ~ . “Yes,” “J shouldn’t think it would slip out, unless the wagon turned completely over, which it didn’t. The front of the carryall ee higher than the rear, anvway. Are-you sure that it didn’t slide back into the body of the vehicle?” “J hunted the wagon all over for it,” replied the © driver, anxiously. “It got out some way.” ‘sYou think it fell into the water, then?” “There’s was no other place for it to go.” y “Maybe it was carried down the stream a little way?” suggested Bob. = “The funny thing about this matter,” spoke up one of the male passengers, “‘is’ that all the other bundles,’ the express matter and such, he had under the seat, are still there. Seems to me that some of them ought to have fone into the creek . instead of the mail-pouch, which is a clumsy thing to slide about.’’, To continue the search in the darkness with onc ‘Jantern seemed a forlorn task. — He suggested as much to the driver, advising him to give up the hunt till daylight. The two male passengers, who were wet and — chilly, and anxious to proceed on their way, backed up Bob. ~ : “Y’m afraid there’s a pile of money orders and bills in that bag,” said the driver, gloomily. “What's to become of me if it’s lost?” : “Well, you stand very little show of /finding it in the darkness. Take us to the village, and then, if you’re afraid to wait till morning, you can get some men to come back with you with several lan- terns and you can make a systematic search.” The driver reluctantly concluded to abandon the pane for the time being, and came out of the water. “T’ve got to, lose half an hour at least going out to the Brookside Farm,” he grumbled. “You ‘don’t have to do that now,” said Bob. “The lady has decided to go to our place. All you have to do will be to take her to the post-office. I'll pick her up there later on, when I get across at the ford below.” : “T’m glad of that,” replied the driver, brighten- » — ing up. “You'll take her trunk on with you?” “Yes. I'd take her with me, too, ony Tm nok sure I can get through the wood. I may have to come back and go three or four miles around to reach the ford.” e ; _ _ Bob’s passenger, whose name was Mrs. Can- field, was carefully assisted lized bridge and helped to a place in the carryall. _ The driver then‘ mounted his seat and, with a ‘very glum look, started the wagon on its way 5 toward Paisley, while Bob recrossed fie prides Span got into his vehicle and turned the mare’s across the demora- —
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’ himself. . ‘ _ CHAPTER IV.—What Bob Discovered in the Wood. = It was no fool job, as Bob well knew, to guide his wagon through the wood without continually running afoul of the trees. As soon as he got under the shadow of the trees he found the gloom intense, and proceeded slowly and with great caution. He collided with a tree several times, but easily worked the wagon free, and had reached the mid- dle of the wood when he suddenly saw a faint light ahead. “J wonder where that comes from?” Bob asked “T didn’t know there was a house here.” As he drew nearer the light his troubles seemed to inerease, and finally he found that, turn which way he would, he was practically blocked. “T’ll have to turn around and go back,” he said. When he tried to do that he found he had driven into. a kind of cul-de-sac," and could not turn around. “The only way to au out of this muddle is to back the wagon,” he muttered. To back the wagon successfully in the dark was a feat that got the best of him, “Pll have to give it up and go to that house where the light is. I shall probably find a man ote maybe a lantern. I’ll ask him to help me out.” So Bob left the mare standing in ‘her tracks and started for the house, It stood in the midst of a clearing a hundred yards away It was little better than a shanty, a story anda half high. As the thought of tramps occurred to Bob’s mind it struck him that he had better go slow. - “T’ll look in the window first before knocking. There might be a tramp or two inside, Sie finding I was alone in this out-of-the-way nee they might knock me out and steal off with my rig. It’s always well to be prudent.” With that convicton Bob moved away from the door and walked to the window through which the light shone. It was just the i se height from the ground to enable him to look through with ease. One of the bottom panes was missing, while the others were cracked and dirty. Bob put his face up to the opéning and looked inside. What he saw rather syeneared him. ‘On a plain deal table in. the middle of the room was a ne pile of letters, while on the floor close _ by lay a leather mail-pouch with a great, gaping _ slit in its side. Two men, resembling in general prngeranee ee the pair Bob had seen kneeling at the end of th bridge when he was on his way to the vafinoad station, were opening g#he envelopes and dumping their contents on a clear spot on the table. Already a considerable amount in ipone silver and bills was in evidence. Bob gave a gasp. " ~ _ “These chaps got away with ‘the missin from the carryall,”-he breathed. mail- Yithere : roa the least doubt about that fact, for there is the pean on the floor and its contents is on the _ table. — a beste to see tadvows bt Shae scheme, : “A STRUGGLE FOR FAME Those chaps must have learned that the Paisley Novelty Co. receive a heavy mail every afternoon, and they determined to get possession of the ~ mail-bag and rifle it of the money it contained. Finding out that the driver of the carryall carried the bag from the station to the village they de- cided to upset the wagon on its way The bridge across the creek. seemed to be a good: point at which to effect their purpose. They saw it was a rickety affair and so they dislodged the stringer in such a way that it would go down as soon as ~ the weight of the vehicle came upon it. As soon | as the accident happened.as they had planned it they rushed up, and while one made a bluff of helping the driver out of the creek, no doubt lead- ing him away from the front of the wagon, the other fellow grabbed the mail-bag and made off with it under corer of the darkness. Yes, it’s as plain as. dayligh walked into t i wood to divide their plunder. Probably they knew of the existence of this shanty. No doubt they’ve been staying here while making their arrangements to work the robbery. Well, if they haven’t a nerve to rob the United States mail! That's a pretty serious offence. Now that I’m on to the game, it’s up to me to put. a spoke in their wheel if I can. The question is, how am I going to do it? There are two of both stout fellows, and probably armed. It would be likely to go hard with me if I made a rash move. It’s a mighty good thing that I thiguaHy twice before knocking at that door.” j am watched them go through the scuiabeted mail. + When they finished with that, one of them be- gan to count the money. ; “Five hundred and ten dollars and fifteen cents,” he said. “Not so bad, Bill.” “You kin bet not. I didn’t expect we’d get so much,” replied Bill. “I dare say these other letters contain’ twice replied his com- — that much in money orders,” ion. “Too bad they’re useless to us.” ‘We'd better open all the letters addressed to the Novelty Company. Some people are foolish to — send money at their own risk to save a few, cents in Government fees.” fe other nodded, and they started in on the Be a the letters, talking together as they pro- ce : They found a $2 bill and some silver pieces; to- gether with about twenty money orders in the other letters. “These other letters addressed to outside peo le aren’t worth bothering with, I guess,” said the — man, whom Bill called Dick. Then they came together and a “J guess¥you’re right,” said Bill, picking up the be pouch. and we'll drop it into the creek in the mornin’.” “Shove all that stuff back into the bag ‘Diek pushed the empty envelopes, letters of in- &a rr structions, money orders, and the Bg eter mis-— ‘sives into the bag, and Bill tossed it in of the room. “Five hundred and twelve dollats and eigh' crated divided in two makes $256.40 apiece,” said. sy! c He counted out that sum and pushed it toward his companion, The remainder he put in his own pocket. "This was the easiest job we ever done,” said, vat 4 laugh. “That bridge must have been — -% 4 a corner | a _ as
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_A STRUGGLE : built on purpose for us. It was’ such a simple matter to work that stringer out of its socket with a hand-crowbar. Then the carryall rolled right into the trap, dumped the driver and the pas- sengers into shallow water, and upset the horse. The rest was easy to two sych experienced chaps like us. Everybody was €kcited, and even .the driver had no thoughts for the mail-pouch at that moment, ‘so you had no difficulty in walking off with it in the darkness.” : 0 . “Yes, it was dead easy,” grinned Bill. “Just like finding money.” “We'll take a Le turn in now. We want to get away on an early train. : Pach: produced a pocket-flask which contained a liquor resembling whiskey. 5 - They finished what was in the flasks and chucked them after the mail-pouch. ‘ ._ Then, after arranging an old mattres$ that lay Gn another corner, they blew out the candle and ‘went to rest. > ae : “They’re going to stay here all night,” evi- dently. “The only thing I see that I can do is to try and get back to the village®*as soon as I can ‘and send the constables over here to capture _ them.” steep : . . He turned to his wagon and tried his luck again - at backing the rig out of the predicament into which he had run it, - ‘He succeeded in backing it far enough to find an opening in the trees sufficiently wide to get through. Poe : This time he did not attempt to drive the mare, put Jed her in and out through the wood till he got out altogether close to the ford. ge Then he got up on the seat and drove across the creek and thence on toward the village. The Paisley Novelty Company’s manufactory was on the outskirts of the village in that direc- - tion, and Bob found that he would pass close to it. There was a light burning in the office, So he stopped in front of the door and pounded on it. A window was presently opened and the watch- _ -man’s head appeared. ‘ »” Who's there?” he asked. “Bob Rider.” ~ “What do you want?” : ee : “Have you telephone connection with the home of any of the officers?” - ‘Why do you ask?” : : a * “ould I as a Ive got fe matter of great.importance to communicate to him.” ~~ “Why don’t you drive on to his house?” ', «Don’t know where he lives.” “You ‘know where Maple Street is, don’t you?” ~ Yes,” a ; Green. It’s the second house from the corner fac- ing the Green.” ~~ “That’s some distance out of my way. It would Call up his house a _ Cottage, one mile outside the village. My mother _ owns the place.” 5 “AI right. Vl let you in.” =~ ‘Two minutes later Bob had the president of the. ey, on the wire. .- r-explaining who he was, the boy told the. My ad _ “There’s a direct wire to the president’s house. “You go up’ Maple Street as far as Lincoln , 2 FOR FAME 7 president how the carryall had been upset by the dropping of one end of the creek bridge that eve- ning. : Bob then went on to tell how the mail-pouch had been discovered to be missing when the driver was ready to continue on to the village. “Ts that -so?” replied the: president, in a tone that showed he had suddenly become deeply inter- pa in the conversation. Hasn’t it been recov- ered? “No, sir; but I have found out where it is,” an- swered Bob. . “Where is it?’ “In an old shanty in the wood across the creek.” “Why, how came it to get there?” “Tt was stolen by two men, who were the cause of the bridge breaking down.” ae 5 et ‘do You know all this?” asked the presi- ent. Sera Bob explained about his trip through the wood to get to the ford; how he had seen a light in the shanty and looked through a window on the ground floor to see wh6é was in the building; how he had seen the rifled mail-pouch and a‘pile of letters on the table which the men were cutting open and pulling out their contents; how they had — finally divided the proceeds of the robbery, which — amounted to a little. over $500, and had then turned in on the mattress for the night. , “If you send the constable over to that house with two or three men at his back he ought to have no difficulty in catching the rascals. They - have the money in their_pockets. The money or- ders are all in.the cut mail-pouch, with the. rest of the mail matter. ‘The constable ought to be able to save everything.” . ; The president thanked Bob for his information, and assured him that the company would not overlook his services. ‘ “Pll make arrangements at once for the capture of the two robbers,” he concluded. “You will hear from me Jater. Good-night.” Ries Bob hung up the receiver and started for the post-office, where he found Mrs. tiently waiting for him to appear. The postmaster was in a sweat over the missing mail-pouch. . “Did the driver creek”” asked Bob. . “He did, and took several men to help him.” Canfield. impa- xo back to look for it in the — “They'll have their trouble for nothing, because : the bac isn’t in the ereek.” “How do ‘you know it «ine asked the post- — master, eying Bob curiously.’ : “Because I happen to know where it is.” “Where is it?” ; _ “ve told the president of the Novelty Com- pany where it is and he’s going to see that it’s re- covered at once.” — * j “What has Mr. Golding got to do with the mail- pouch? J am the postmaster and I request that you'll tell me so that I can send for it.” “Owin vace, it’s better that Mr. Golding should act in the matter, He’s more interested than anyone else, because there’s over $500 in cash in the recistered letters and ‘probably more than that in money — orders.” to the cricumstances surrounding the trie “How dq you know that there’s more than $500. ae in the registered letters?” asked the ostmaster, sharply.. “Nobody but the sender and receiver is Tas Se Pee Mia, ie ‘receiver is —
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8 supposed to know the contents of a registered OE ese the man who opened the letters said there was something more than $500 in them in ash.” zs At those words the postmaster nearly had a fit. “Do you mean to say that the missing mail- pouch has been tampered with?” : “T do. The bag was not lost by the upsetting of the carryall at the bridge, but was stolen by two men who caused the accident to_get possession a gh Ce x The postmaster nearly jumped a foot. “How came you to know that the bag was stolen, Rider?” _ “Qh, I haven’t time now to tell you all I know about the matter, because I’ve got toytake Mrs. Canfield over to the farm, but‘ you'll learn in gor ' este, t+ that moment Mr. piers ps se be es of the village entered the post-office tomether, “Here is Bob Roper now; Mr. Golding,” said the ~ constable. . . “Glad to make your acquaintance, Rider,” said the president of the Novelty Company. “I’ve started in to act’on the information you furnished me over the telephone in relation to the mail-pouch.” : “Glad to hear it, sir. I don’t think there is anything more that I can tell. you. You know about as much as I do on the subject now.” “Well, you sha’n’t lose anything by your fortu- nate discovery, my boy. Mr. Jones,” turning to the po r, “lock up your store and come \ with us. We are going to recover the stolen mail- bag, and it’s your duty as the postmaster to take charge of it as soon a8 you c@n get your hands on it.” 5 - “Come, Mrs. Canfield,” said Bob. “We'll go on to the farm now. You’ve had quite a time of it to-night trying to reach your destination.” On the way to the farm he told the story of his night’s experience to his fair passenger, and she was greatly astonished by his story. Mrs. Rider, who was wondering greatly over her son’s lengthy absence, was also surprised to see a lady instead of the gentleman boarder she expected. _ ; She welcomed Mrs. Canfield, however, and pro- vided her with a cup of tea and some cold meat and bread. ‘ And while ue new pr was cane Ai tne laining how she came ange her destination 3 Prom the Brookside aim to the Sunnyside Cot- tage, Bob went to bed. . , CHAPTER V.—Bob Outlines the Principal ‘ Situation in His Play. ; Next morning one of the constable’s deputies rode out to the Rider Farm to tell Bob that he must appear at Justice Harlow’s office at ten o'clock and give his testimony against the two eS mail-pouch robbers who had been captured the night before through the information furnished by ‘him to the president of the Paisley Novelty Co. “All right,” said Bob. “Wait till I change my es elothes, and I’ll go with you.” _ The news of the mail robbery andi the capture at the rascals was soon circulated through the ‘ > e robbery of | A STRUGGLE FOR FAME village, consequently Lawyer Harlow’s office was crowded with inquisitive people, who overflowed on the sidewalk outside when no more could find entrance at the hour set for the examination of the prisoners.. __ The damaged mail-fiouch, the rifled envelopes and their contents, including the money taken from the pockets of the prisoners at the-time of their arrest, were displayed on the justice’s desk as. exhibits in the case. i After the driver of the carryall had described the accident which had happened to his vehicle, and had identified one of the prisoners as the man who had assisted him out of the creek, Bob took the witness chair and told his story as the reader knows it. The prisoners listened to his story in great sur- prise, and when he had concluded they cast very black looks at him, for his evidence, backed up by the exhibits, was strong enough to convict these in court. The justice, of course, remanded the prisoners to the county jail for detention, until they were taken charge of by the United States authorities, whose businéss it was to a Federal court. 3 Bob was complimented by Justice Harlow, and afterward by many of the villagers, for the part he had taken in the matter, eae Subsequently Mr. Golding, in behalf of the Novelty Company, presented him with a reward of 250, as an- evidence of their appreciation of his services. é j In due time Bob was summoned by the Govern- ment to appear in court as the star witness against the two mail robbers, and they were eas- ily convicted on his testimony. Shortly after they had been sent to the peniten- tiary Bob received a reward of $600 from the Postoffice Department and a complimentary Iet- pet the autograph of the postmaster-general proceed against a ia To resume the thread of our story, Bob re- — turned to the farm after examination of the mail robbers in Justice Harlow’s office, and took up his regular duties where he had left off. is work was not very-laborious, as he did not go in the fields. » He looked after the truck patch, which supplied the boarders with fresh vegetables, attended to matters around the and the various outbuild- ings, and did the chores about the house, some- times helping Polly when the house was full of boarders and the girl was overworked, ra _ He pa took Wanane 3 es, and carried them their baggage to and m the railroad station. In spite of the many duties he had to perform 5 he could always find time to amuse elf when he felt so disposed, for his mother was not exact- ing in her demands on his services. He and Stella Hamilton had got upon quite a friendly footing, and on her part by Bob’s conduct the previous after- noses an saving her from the vicious attentions of e is re Both she and her mother felt very grateful to. him, and showed it by admitting him to a more . intimate relationship. “Well, are you going to take me fishing ‘with i ay , : Fees! iy meee e visitors carriage -driving at Z this feeling was intensified - ;
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A STRUGGLE FOR FAME ou this afternoon?” asked Stella, when she met him in the yard about four o’clock. “Sure thing. I expect Sam over about five, and en, the three of us will go to the creek,” he re- 1ed. . “That will be fun,” she answered, with spark- ling eyes. “By the way, do you know that lady, Mrs. Canfield, you brought here last night is an actress?” : “No,” replied Bob, opening his eyes. “Is she?” “Yes, - J guess she’s a good one, too, for she said she was out last season with one of Brough- man’s companies.” : “We had a fine actor here last summer named William Richmond. You might ask her if she knows him.” “T will. Now, don’t forget to let me know when ou and Sam Sumner are ready to go to the creek. ou’ll find me on the front veranda.” “All right,” said Bob, and then Stella walked away. Sam turned up: at a quarter to five. When they appeared in the front of the house with their fishing tackle, Stella was talking to Mrs. Canfield. . “When the actress found that her companion mee going fishing with the boys she wanted to go along. A othe more the merrier,” laughed Bob. “Go and get your hats,” ; : en the party reached the fishing ground, Bob baited his hooks and handed the pole to Stella. Sam’ did the same for Mrs. Canfield. © : “When are you going to show me that play you wrote?” asked Sam, after they had been at the creek for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Mrs. Canfield turned around and’ looked at Bob with some curiosity. ; “Have you written a play?” she inquired. “Yes, maataba,’ replied the boy, modestly. ; “What kind of play is it? You must let me see it. I am connected with the profession, and will be able to pass upon its merits.” “It?s a melodrama in four acts, ma’am, and is ealled, ‘The Red Light.’” “‘The Red Light’ ?” “Yes. You see, the: principal scene is a light- house off the coast. It has revolving red and white lights. When the lighthouse people need urgent help from the shore they stop the lent so that it thr6ws the red beams toward the village, That signal is well known to all the fishermen and yillagers. Well, ma’am, in the third act, which is the main act of the play, the entices the heroine to the lighthouse by means of a deco _, note, supposed to be written by the hero, wi whom she’s in love, and who is keeper of the lighthouse. She gets one of the village boatmen to take her ovft in his boat. The villain, in the meantime, with the help of the second villain, has overpowered the hero and his assistant and locked them up in the oil-room of the Hghtheuse. So, when the heroine appears he tells her that she is in his power and must consent to_marry him. She refuses, of ahiine, He then tells her that her lover and his assistant are locked in the oil-room. _ He shows her where he has staved in a cask of - the oil, a portion of which is seen in a pool around : ia door. nl He threatens to set fire to the oil, ped will then communicate with the rest of the els in the room, and thus bring about the away from me, Just like yours did, 9° death of the imprisoned man, if she does not marry him.* In the struggle which takes place between them she knocks the. lantern out of his hand, extinguishing the light, and rushes up the steps to the room under the lantern, where the revolving machinery is. Here she stops the light so that it throws a steady gleam shoreward, the signal of distress. That gives the title. to the drama, for hélp comes in the shape of the come- dian and the soubrette, who smash in the door of the oil-room, letting the hero and his man out of their dangerous situation. In the meantime, the villain has chased the heroine to the top of the lighthouse. She ryns out on the gallery, where he traps her. To escape from him she climbs out on the iron projecting arm to which. the AOR: bell is suspended. He follows her out and she slides down the bell-rope as far as she can go. Then he pulls. out a knife and tells her he will cut the rope and send her into the sea to her death unless she consents to marry him. She refuses to — yield, and as he is about to cut the rope the hero palpi and saves her. That’s the end of the act.’ ' ; The actress, Stella, and Sam listened with great uteoet to Bob’s description of the chief scene of 8 play. j “It’s a very good situation,” admitted Mrs. Can- field. “I must read the whole play, in order té judge if the rest of it is as good in proportion. If it needs improvement, and I can help you im any way, I'll be glad to do so.” “Thank you, ma’am. _T’ye.no doubt you will be able to point out the defects which I will then be able to rectify.” ee “What do you intend to do with your play, Bob?” asked Sam, interestedly. : “T intend to sell “And if it makes a hit you expect to get fa-. mous ?” é “I don’t expect to get famous through that play. - That is my first attempt—the opening wedge. I can get it produced, and it attracts enough at- tention, it will. get my name before the public. Then I'll write another play, and try to do much better. If that goes, too, ’ll keep on writing, arid maybe some day I'll write a play that will make me famous, see?” pa “IT see,” replied Sam. “Look out Hamilton, you’ve got a bite.” Stella pulled up her line and saw a fine fish dancing at the end of it. As she started to pull the line in the fish managed to free its gills from the hook, fell back into the water and disap- peared. ane that too provoking for anything?” she ed. “Better luck next time,” laughed Bob, as he re- baited the hook, i ase: “Oh, dear, I don’t belteve I’ll Catch another’ one,” she said, doubtfully. j “Why not. There are lots of others in the creek. “That fish may warn the others against my bait,” she replied demurely. : there, Miss “That's right,” nodded Sam, with a grin. “It ee happened to me once.” “Did it, really?” asked the girl. about it.” 5 “I was fishing one day in another creek, and palling ‘em out as fast as I dropped the bait iis e water. After I'd caught abou twenty, one got Do tell me Kes it to some manager, if I ean.”
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~ writer. * 10 “Well,” said Stella, with an interested look, “what then?” of *T didn’t get another bite after that.” “You didn’t?” “No. The worst of it was I knew the fish were on to me.” “Flow did you?” r “The water was as clear as crystal, and before I lost that fish I could-see them rush in a drove for the bait as soon as I cast it in. They had a regu- lar scrap among themselves to see which one would get it.” 3 ; “Tt must have been fun,” said Stella. “Tt was—for me. Well, :when that fish got away from my hook and dropped back into the water all the fish gathered in a circle about him. -In about a minute not a fish was in sight. He had warned them against the bait and they skipped out.” _ “That's a pretty good fish story, Sam,” said Bob. “But I would advise you not to tell it too often.”* At that moment Stella uttered a little scream of “delight and pulled up her line with as fine a fish as before, which she succeeded in landing safely. “There, I did catch another, after all,” she said, in a tone of satisfaction. : “Y'm afraid your yarn doesn’t count for much, Sam,” laughed Bob. : . “Oh, I don’t know. I guess the fish that es- Se was too stupid to give the snap away,” he said, ; After catching a dozen fish the party returmed to the house. ‘ 7 Ne ; CHAPTER VI.—Bob Starts For New York To See About His~ Play. After sunper that evening Bob brought the manuscript of his play from his room and handed it to Mrs.»Canfield. : “Thank you,” she said, with a smile. “I will read it to-morrow morning.” ~. She kept her word,-and when she saw Bob after dinner next day she told him’ that his drama was very good, indeed, especially for a first attempt. “Indeed,” she said, “it was a surprise to me. . I’ve seen many a play performed that was far worse, and the work; too, of an experienced boy, could put your ideas together in such a practical way. ‘Really, you have gone to work about it as if you were perfectly familiar with theatrical methods and the theatre itself. Where ‘did you get your knowledge from?” Bob explained that he had got his informa- tion from Mr. Richmond. : “Ah, indeed? I know Mr. Richmond. He is a good actor. So he was boarding here last summer ?” : : : » "Yes, ma’am. I went around with him a good _ deal, and he seemed to take considerable interest 4m me, particularly after I ‘told him I meant to > write a lay.” . He told the actréss how Mr. Richmond had drafted a Wild West drama for him as a guide, and shown him how the play. should be put to- gether so that it would be adapted to presen- tation.on the stage. . ; - “T wrote the dialogue and the completed drama a is in my trunk. But, of course, I can’t do ‘any- es thing with it, because the ideas and situations . and she told him that Mr.-Thacker had said all J can’t understand how you, a country - quite a pile of theatrical papers behind her, A STRUGGLE FOR FAME are not mine. In fact, Mr. Richmond said that the scheme was merely a rehash of q play that - had been before the public. He laid it out for me in order to show me how a modern play is — built.” ae “I see,” said’ Mrs, Canfield. “You have evi- dently profited well by his instructions, Well, come up to my room and we'll go over your. lay, Scene by scene, and Fl point out where; n my opinion, it can be improved, and how. Bob and the ‘actress spent the afternoon to- gether improving the drama, and he took it away with him to rewrite at his leisure such parts of it as required alteration and improve- ment. During the month that followed, Bob sub- mitted each act, as he finished it, to the inspec- ion of the actress, and more alterations were made in the manuscript. Finally the play received her complete approval, and then Bob rewrote it carefully from beginning to end, and sent it by - express to. a dramatic agent named Augustus Thacker, who had an office in-Union Square, New York. Mrs. Canfield knew Mr, Thacker, and wrote a note to him requesting him to give the play his consideration and try to dispose of it, to the author’s advantage. In about a week Bob received a letter bearing . the imprint. of “Augustus Thacker, Dramatic Agent, No. — Union Square, New York,” and his heart. gave a bound when he looked at it. «» He: hastily tore the envelope open and read the contents, which were brief. Mr. Thacker acknowledged receipt of the melorama. “The — Red. Light,” and would give it his: prompt at- tention. Bob showed the letter to Mrs. Canfield, that was necessary, and that he must wait until. — he heard from the agent. It was about this time that Bob was summoned as_a witness against the mail-bag robbers, and it took him away from | home a’ couple of days. When he got back he — was just in time to bid Stella Hamilton and her . mother good-by. They were going to spend tha — month of August at the seashore. renee “E suppose you'll go-down to. New York in the near future about your play,” said the girl. © “When you do you must call and see us. We shall be delighted to see you.” | ee “J shall not fail to call on you if I go t New York,” said Bob. “Perhaps -yon wouldn’t cbject to me writing to you occ&sionally in the meanwhile.” ; ‘ [er “T should be glad to have you do so,” shé re-— plied. “You can address me at the Surf House, Long Branch, until the first week in September; after that a letter will reach me at my home, the address of which I have already given you.” Two weeks after the departure. of the Hamil-- tons, Bob received the $500 check from the Post=. office Department, which he deposited for col- lection with the Paisley Bank. That made him worth $750, in his own right, and he began to feel quite independent. About the middle of - August Mrs. Canfield left Sunnyside Cottage to attend the rehearsals in-New “York of the new ®* play in which she was engaged to appear dur ing the coming season. _Bob was sorry she hadto go, aS he found her very interesting and lively, and. had made himself particularly attentive to her after Stella went. away.- Mrs.- Canfield ey oes &
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A- STRUGGLE FOR FAME Bob took the bunch to his own room to look them over. One advertisement that attracted his attention read as follows: : “PLAY FOR SALE—A farce comedy. With 16-" 000 sheets of special paper. "Short cast. Booked solid in best one-night stands. Will sacrifice for less than paper costs. Address, John Thomas, Box 162, Wichita, Kansas. ‘ “T wonder why John Thomas wants to sacrifice his play at less than the cost of the printing when he’s got his time filled?” Bob asked him- self. “Maybe it’s been a failure at the start, or his cash has given out. If I were in his piece I’d try to get an ‘angel,’ as Mrs. Can- d calls the moneyed man who backs a show.” ® Bob waited patiently to hear from Mr. Augus- tus Thacker about his play, but the whole of September passed away without any word from him. The agent had now had the drama in his possession eight weeks, and Bob thought it was about time something was doing, so he wrote the agent a polite letter of inqiliry on the sub- ject. After waiting a week for a reply, and not ing one, Bob surprised his mother one morn- @ by telling. her that he was going to New York next day to look after his drama. e il One bore Mr. Thacker’s name and business, the other was marked simply “Private.” - ~Bob pushed open. the first door and entered the office. He found himself’ in a fair-sizéd room furnished with half-a-dozen chairs, a desk, at which a small boy sat, a table on which were- spread seyeral dramatig and sporting papers, while the walls were wah covered with pictures of theatrical celebrities, sandwiched in between theatrical lithographs and half-sheet hangers. The boy, who was red-headed and pock-marked, looked up in a lazy way as Bob closed the door. He made no effort to ascertain the visitor’s business «until Bob walked over to him and in- ners if ease in. “He’s.dn, all right, but is engaged. Ar an aétor?” 3 ga ves ¥ mes re Z_ tele “I’m an author.” 5 e€ boy looked at him curiously an = out ae, interest, a Eee ae “What’s your name?” i “Robert Rider.” = ene “You ought to join a circus,” said the boy, with a broad grin... : iBicuade pant Rid Because you’re a ler. See us chuckled the office boy. pe: “Say, are you often taken this way?” asked Tat afternoon he drew $50 from the bank to ene. rather nettled at the boy’s witicism. pay his expenses, and when he got home he packed his suit-case with what he thought he would require for a short stay. When he left for the station next morning to catch the 8:10 train, he told his mother that he would be back by Saturday, but circumstances ruled otherwise, end many Saturda : ys passed before he saw th faxm again. ; ; CHAPTER VII—Bob visits Augustus Thacker’s. : ice, : * Bob made ‘his entree into New York via the Weehawken Ferry, which landed him at the foot 4of West Forty-second Street. It was about half- ‘ st eleven, and he felt hungry, for he had eaten s breakfast at six o-clock. E He asked the ticket agent what car he should take to reach Union Square. * “Take a cross-town car to Broadway, and trans- _ @er for a car going downtown. Tell the con - ductor to let gg at the Square.” : -- Bob thanked him and got aboard a Forty- gecond “Street car. The conductor let him out _ mt the corner of Broadway. He asked a police- - fan to direct him to a nearby restaurant and was told there was one down the block. ; He found it without. any trouble and had a Mod dinner, after which he hailed a Broadway ck and was carried down to Union Square. He had the letter in his pocket with the @pent’s name and address, and he looked about the number, A policeman told him that it was the east side of the Square, near Fourteenth ‘Street, and he crossed over. When he reached the _ building he saw a sign over two windows on the _ fhird floor, which read: “Augustus Thacker, _ theatrical Agent.” : : - He entered, walked up two flights of narrow irs, and standing on the landing, looked for fr. Thacker’s office. Ahead of him to the right Were two doors with glass upper sections, @ be very busy.” aken what way?” : Be ee Sigg be funny. What’s your name?” ~. “Mike Feeney.” : “What aré be aie office boy?” ‘Y’'m the whole thing when the boss is out.” I should imagine you were. You don’t seem to “Yes, I’m busy ‘readin’,” - “What do you do to earn your wages?” “Warm this chair most of the time,” grinned ' Feeney. “When any of the Aenea come in lookin’ for an engagement I take nam nen rag Be: s eir names to the boss, “Then take mine in.” : ; _“T will, when .the tart manager that’s _¢hewing § ear off comes out.” Why do you call him a tart manager?” “Oh, because he is. The woods are full of them. They made a great bluff about takin’ a show out, and in about a week the people are countin’ the ties on their way back to the This was information for Bob. He glanced around upon the ho arsons tacked on the wall. Among others he noticed the picture of Mrs. ake ee ele alee it in a C) were the is: “Yours seerhat looks ke ith bodies oo “That loo ¢ Mrs. Canfield’s pi ” ‘ae anfield’s picture,” said. “That's her.” : jag ¢ itti ; thea? ay Your truly, Kittie Bertrand,’ mean, at’s her professional copnomen.” “She’s a good actress,” PH Bob. “Yep. There’s worse,” < oe was out with one of the Brougham com- s last season, a i i 3 Beason” md is going out again this Oo says she was out with B h asked Feeney, evidently astonished. eee a ae me “ herself.”’ 6 told you so I aint nothing te Bay. ore did you meet her?” mn # ‘ lait”
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2 a eer 3 A “She boarded at our farm most’ of the sum- mer.” “What, are you from a farm?” asked the boy, -in surprise, i ; ey am,” e < “So Miss Bertrand was' boardin’ at your farm. I knew she was somewhere up the country.” “She left about three weeks ago to begin re- hearsing with Brougham.” . “She told you that, eh?” chuckled the youth. “Yes. Why shouldn’t she, if it’s so?” 7 “That’s right. What she says always goes with me. “Has she gone out yet?” ; “Nope. She was in here this mornin®” , “Then I guess:I’ll call. and see her, if I can find out where she lives.” : : “T}] give you her address,” and Feeney scrib- bled something on a piece of paper and handed it ; to Bob. He read: “Miss Bertrand, No. —- West Thirty-ninth Street.” : : . Just then the outer deor opened and admitted a tall, square, seedy-looking, -smoothly-shaven ” = man, with long hair that fell over his frayed col- - lar. He sported a plug hat, and -yellowish-tinged * spats over his cracked patent leather shoes. His _- and his right hand was thrust through it at the chest. He strode toward the office boy with a- tragic air. __ “Gadzooks, Michael, ’tis a balmy day,” he said “in a deep-toned voice: “Is Thacker to be seen? _ Perchance he has secured something for me.” ~*~ “Nothin’ doin’, Ranter,” said Feeney, with a yawn. ~ - “Wilt thou take my name inside, Michael?” ey “The boss is busy and’this gent comes next.” =S Mr. Ranter, who was an actor. beyond any - .. doubt, eyed Bob with some interest. » ‘ _ . . “AhI’" he exclaimed, extending his hand with a show of enthusiasm. “A brother professional, I perceive. I know thy face not, but I welcome thee just the same.” - ‘ ® isn’t an actor. He’s an author.”- “Tt is all the same. The immortal Shakespeare was both an author and an actor. Thy name, friend?” ; “Robert Rider.” : ’ “And mine is McKean Ranter. of me, of course. Cughman.” 5 ; _ “And now you have a hard job to support your- ' self,’ chuckled the irrepressible Feeney. : . “May Ihave a wofd with you, Rider? g You have heard I once supported Charlotte Come * munications.” ae : “Look out, Rider; he’s goin’ to touch you for a . nickel,’ warned Feeney, who methods. Mr. Ranter’ was in no way rebuffed by the of- ’ fice boy’s exclamation. He held on to Bob’s arm, like a drowning man to a plank, and said, in a stage whisped: : f - “Prythee, hast thou got. a stray quarter in thy eae J am in sore need of a square meal. I ave tasted neither bite nor sup these twelve hours, and I.faig would break my fast.” _ Bob felt sorry for him, and, fishing a twenty- ent piece out of h Cait i aes © EN ess STRUGGLE FOR FAME oa ety Fane Albert coat was tightly buttoned,@ ‘Are you Mr. Thacker?” i -. . “Cut it out, Ranter,” interposed Feeney. “He . and I’ve hither; this corner is suitable for confidential com- knew: the actor’s is ‘pocket, handed it to the. man who in his early days had supported Mrs. Cushman, according te his own statement. : The actor’s fingers F roeaiies the silver coin with & pitiful kind of ayidity. : Sea “T'thank three, friend,” he said, huskily. “Some day when prosperity showers on me her refulgent beams orice more, I will return this small con- tribution with interest. Till then, friend, I will say farewell. Perchance we.shall meet again.” ith those words, Mr. Ranter faded through the door as fast as his long legs could: carry him, and he made a beeline ti a’ saloon in the neighborhood where they set out a big free lunch. — 7 PE RD: MeN Saw we ur ee ey CHAPTER VIII.—The Duplicity of a Theatrical@ — “ty Agent. vat _ Hardly had the corridor door closed behind the’ actor when the coor of the private.room opened and Augustus Thacker if ie in the opening. _ He cast a sharp glance at Bob.and then addressed _ eeney. Z =H “Take this note Re to the St: James Building, _ Mike,” he said. “Want to see me?” he added, — turning to Bob. < bees “That’s my name.” “Then"I called to see you.” utes, : He returned ‘to his desk in the inner room.as — Feeney, after’ a friendly wink at Bob, left the — “office on his errand. The boy amused himself for _ a few minutes looking at the photos on the walls — and_ reading the bills, then he took a seat near the — door of the private room. It happened that Mr. — ‘Thacker had inadvertently left-it ajar about an inch, and the conversation going on between the — theatrical agent and his caller floated out quite — plainly to Bob’s car. | dE nE a eee “You say this young fellow you’ve got on a string has got plenty of coin and-is stuck on back- — i show?” said“ the voice of Acoust t: “Yes. He’s the easiest mark I’ve picked up et. He told me ‘that his grandmother left him 20,000. His ambition is to become a’ manager — romised to-teach him the business,” — chuckled the man, whose name was Martin Grim- — mer. te “I envy you your luck,” replied the* agents “Why didn’t you bring him along and let me have a peep at him?” ere ‘I don’t care about exhibiting him around among the fraternity,” answered Grimmer, dryly. “Something might happen to him. I consider it — m duty to protect him since I have won his con- _ adedad. F Beene a ty 7 SSS * “You say you are looking for a strong .play- one with plenty of good situations in it and broa comedy. Something; in fact, that will take in the provinces. Well,-I guess I’ve got the very — thing you want.” ee etl i “Have you? “What is it?” “Tt’s a melodrama in four acts.” “What's the title?” = a ‘The Red Light.’” paises < - Bob’s heart gave a great bound. © “The name isn’t so bad. It'll tak scenery, I-s’pose?” ~ pel ears Pr ate tie ore e specia Sire Sa We
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A STRUGGLE “Yes. There’s a lighthouse scene in_ the third a interior view, which sinks so as to show the eroife mounting the circular stairs to the lan- . 2) ge zs “Something after the castle scene in ‘Arrah-na-- og ue,’ eh?” “On that plan. “which revolves the red and white lights in the lantern in order to throw the red light shoreward, . which is’a signal for help. The villain follows her up to thwart her, but she breaks the connec- tions so.he can’t undo her work. Then he chases her out down the rope of the fog-bell. As the vil- Jain is about to cut the rope——~ “The hero appears and rescues her, I s’pose?”’ “Hxactly. It's a corking good climax, and the principal one of the play.” “11! admit that it isn’t half bad. What other gtriking situations are there?” ; “A murder in the first act, followed by the ar- rest of the hero, who is wrongfully accused of. the - -erime,” + eee y “Of eourse,” chuckled Grimmer. »“The hero always is. What kind ‘of a villain? A swell ras- cal, who wants to wed the heroine ’causé he’s discovered she’s heiress toa big property? Wears- - g high dicer, and smokes cigarettes in a debonair . fashion?” Se f “Nothing of the sort. That’s’ done to, death jn all the cheap melodramas that are floating about the country. The villain is a hardened, middle-aged skipper of a fishing schooner. He’s stuck on the girl, whom he’s known ever since - she was knee-high to a marlin-spike. The hero ds a college graduate who’s got into a scrape, ~ mothing that reflects on his manly qualities, but his wealthy father gets a mistaken idea ’ of it and bounces his son out of the house in a fit of passion. The young fellow’ applies for and secures, through a pull, of course, the posi- tion of keeper of the lighthouse off the village where the girl lives. He gets acquainted with her, they fall in love, and that furnishes the ground work for the trouble that follows.” - “What’s the climax of the second act?” a “A thrilling escape from the lock-up by the 2) OKO.” : “How about the comedy? I hope there’s plenty . of horse-play, for that’s what the out-of-town ~ people want.” j - _. *There’s two good comedy parts—a young fish- ° rman anda travelin’. fakir—both in love with the soubrette, who’s a giddy thing that doesn't Imow her own mind. The scenes between them -are very funny. A corking good soubrette would ‘be able to put plenty of snap and: ginger into ‘the play.” “s -* “That’s what I want. The play rather strikes ~~ me. Who’s the author?” > - . “Hfe’s an unknown quantity. New at the busi- ness, but he’s got the stuff in him that'll find fits level one of these days. You can gamble ~ on it he’s a corker.” : 2 “How did you get hold of him?” “J haven’t met him yet. He lives on a farm - gomewhere up-State. He’ sent the manuscript to me by post, with a recommendation from Kittie - Bertrand, who boarded this summer at his mother’s place. She helped fix up the raw parts, but that was all. By the way, I may as well way right here if you take the play you'll have od, The girl stops the machinery 5 FOR FAME 13 to, take Kittie with it. She’s dead set on play- ing the heroine, and I’ve promised to consider her wishes in placing it. But you won’t lose anything by engaging her, as she’s a good one” “Fifty bones and expenses.” ‘ Say do you take me for a National Bank? - T'll give her twenty, money sure, and she-to pay her own.” ; i “Oh, if you’re going to work the hamfat busi-: hess we won't say anything more about the play. I thought you had an angel with plenty of the stuff—$20,000 and all that? Do you want to scoop the money without giving the boy a run for it?” : " _“No. I expect to put out a godd show thi time, but I'm not going to pay Sone pea : You can’t get a good leading woman under fifty ‘to seventy-five plunks.” eres Ah, the woods are full of. talent. An ad-— betel oe aieeet bees me out & bunch.” ell, you’re the ‘do. ; Seat ea A docter; but you want to Miss Bertrand.” “What royalty does the author want for this bens il) “Don’t worry about that, Grimmer. Miss- - trand’s fifty will cover that,” see “Well, where does he come in?” : ae doesn’t wae = at all,” laughed the agent. en you an iss Bertr: ing to do him out of it, eh?” See ae Bob ‘held his breath at this revelation. It’s his first effort, and he doesn’t know its value. I’ll write him and tell him that he can’t expect to. get more out of it than his name on the bills. That -ought to be compensation enough. It will get his name before the public and help him to sell his next play. In fact, he’s lucky to get it produced on any old terms. Some agents in my place would try to pull his leg in addition.” : Raa ‘That’s right,” phuckled Grimmer. “The trouble - with you, Thacker, you're too honegt. _ You wouldn’t steal a dollar more than you could get ye, fingers ob? : S going to cost me something, anyway. I sent,the play out to be tupewritter be hie ® petent person in the St. James ,Building,. to- you can’t get the play without. re gether with the parts.. Feeney has gone after it?” és : 2 “How much will it cost you?” Twenty dollars.” i ‘ “Going to charge that against the author?” “Oh, I'll charge him a hundred. He ‘won't _ know the difference. He’s more or less of a jay.” “If your boy brings the play back tes Tet -me have it to run over of coursé?” “Certainly: You can read it ri ‘ offic witage ee out at rath? pees = “What’s the matter with me taking i i I can’t’ judge of the thing on a sen Huey You can form an opinion of its merits by looking it over. You don’t need to read it care- fully. U’ll guarantee it’s a winner. If you like. it, as 1 bet you will, just pull your angel’s le for $250, and bring it to meg as a guarantee o good faith, and J’ll let you have the play and the typewritten parts.” Mr. Grimmer didn’t like the idea of putting _ up sO much _ money, and said so, so, after some argument, Thacker reduced his price to $150, to which the manager agreed. By that time Bob
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14 td was worked up to a pitch of considerable indigna- tion over what he considered the duplicity of Augustus Thacker. He determined then and there to recover his play, and take it to an honest agent, if he could find one. While, he was re~ velving his plan in his mind the outer door opened and Feeney entered with a bundle under his arm. Bob jumped to his feet and intercepted him. “Ig that the play of ‘The Red Light’ you’ve got there?” he asked, eagerly. “Sure. How did you'know?” “It’s my play. Let me look at it.” »,. “Can’t do it. If it’s your play you'll have _. -t9 see the boss.” oa paid $20 for having it typewritten, didn’t you Lan ‘ ; ' “That is right.” ° “Well, here’s the money. Leave the bundle with me and take the money in to Mr» Thacker.” “Oh, I can’t do that. If you’re going to pay the bill turn it over to the boss. If you want to look your play over Thacker will let ‘you do it, I reckon.” “Y’ve got no use for Mr. 2 “I want my play, and I’m going to have it. That’s all there is to it,” said Bob, resolutely. _ _.He swooped down on Feeney and grabbed the ‘bundle, at the same time forcing the $20 bill into his hand. A struggle ensued for the pos- session of the play, during which the table was overturned with a crash, and the office boy went down with it. This brought both Thacker and Grimmer.to the door of the private room just Sas Bob snatched the bundle from Feeney’s grasp. “What does this mean,” demanded the theatri- cal agent, angrily. : ae “He swiped the play from me,” cried Feeney. trying to extricate himself from the table and debris. : _ “Who are you, young man, and what-do you mean by such conduct in my office?”, _ “J am Robert Rider, the author of this play, and I’ve decided to withdraw it from your hands and take it elsewhere.” Hf a bomb had exploded in the plac2 it couldn’t - have caused Augustus Thacker greater consterna- tion. ~*~ \ . Thacker. any more. ~ CHAPTER IX.—Bob ‘Maikes a Plucky Rescue, and Visits Mrs. Canfield At Her Flat. “You are Robert Rider?” he gasped. “Why, you’re only a boy!” : “What of it?” * “Well, if you are Robert Rider, the author of the play, you can’t take it away with you.” “Why not?” replied Bob, defiantly. _ et - “Because I’ye got a bill of charges against it, und shall retain the manuscript until it is liqui- dated.” : : “If you mean the $20 you paid for having the manuscript and parts typewritten, your boy las the money in his hand.” “Twenty dollars!” cried Mr. Thacker, “How did you know it cost $20?” ; _ “J heard you say so to that gentleman.” rd -- “Oh, I see,” he sneered; “you are a Paul’ Pry. You were listening at *the door to our private -— Seonversation.” rein dn’t help hearing it when yo and, casting all personal considerations A STRUGGLE FOR FAME door ajar yourself. You knew I was out, here, for you told me to take a seat and wait.” . “TY didn’t know you were the autho® of “ Red Light.’ If I had“known it I would have in= vited you inside, as I was arranging with Mr. - Grimmer to take out your play.” “Tf Mr. Grimmer wants to take out my «pla he'll have to make his arrangements with me. ¢ want something more tangible than my name on - the bills. I may be an easy mark in your esti mation, but I know my rights and intend to pro-_ tect them.” ‘) “Miss Bertrand can claim equal rights of authorship in that production. She assisted you largely in its. construction. In fact, she practi- cally licked your play into shape. As I repre- sent Migs Bertrand, I shall consider it my duty to look after her interests.” 1 “T am willing to acknowledge my obligation to Mrs. Canfield, whom you refer to as Miss Bertrand, but whatever she did was ‘purely vol- untary on ®er part, and she did not hint at any compensation. However, I have no objection to paying her out of whatever profits come to me when the drama is produced.” ie, “Talk is chéap, young man.’ I. shall insist on you leaving that bundle, with me. Your rights will be looked. after, don’t you fear.” 2 “I prefer to look after my own rights, so I mean to take this play with me.” : “You'll either leave the play, or the room, in charge of a policeman,” said the agent, menace — ingly, thinking to intimidate his country visitor. “Call your officer. The play will go with me just the same, and I’ll put it up to the judge to pass upon my rights.” ; His prompt_reply rather discomfited the agent. At that moment Mike Feeney, who had edged. around behind Bob, made sundry signs to his ee 8 ; ' which that individual understood. He nodded, an then made a sudden grab at the visitor’s arm. As Bob drew back, Feeney snatched the bundle — from his hand and dashed out at the door. § Mr. Thacker seized Bob to prevent him from - following. As the young author’s moneky wags up, and he had muscles .of steel, the theatrical _ agent found himself tripped up on the floor be« — fore he knew it. Bob then flew after the red= * headed Feeney, who had got a flight of stairs the start of him. When Bob reached the street door | Feeney was just disappearing around the corner — of Fourteenth Street. : ay Bob was after him like a shot, and he could run some. The sidewalk, however, was crowded at that hour, and both pursued and pursuier were at a disadvantage. Feeney’s complete familiarity with the neighborhood, and his ability to dodge the pedestrians better than Bob, enabled him to in- crease his distance in spite of all obstacles, and peta he kited around the corner of Irving — lace and dashed toward Fifteenth Street. Ags Bob followed him, a.third of a short block behind, a well-dressed young man stepped off the walk to cross over to the entrance to the Academy of Music. ; A swiftly-driven cab came down the street ; the moment which the ee man did not chee # Bob, in spite of the fact that his thoughts a eyes were’on Feeney, saw the young man’s el ae: wind, he sprang forward into the
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A STRUGGLE the young fellow around the waist and swung him around out of danger. ; It was touch and go with them both, for the ‘wheels of the cab brushed against their sides. The _young man looked bewildered, and then he seemed to realize the situation. 5 “You saved my. life,” he said, gratefully, grasp- ing Bob by the hand. “All right,” replied Rider. ‘You’re welcome,” then*he broke away and resumed his pursuit of Feeney, who by this time had vanished around the corner of Fifteenth Street, in the direction of Union Square. _. When he reached the corner the red-headed boy ~ was not in sight. “He’s got back to his office by this time, and Mr. Thacker has my play back in his hands. All das do now is to see a lawyer ubout the mat- T. : “The conversation he had overheard between Thacker and Manager Grimmer had given him a slight suspicion that Mrs. Canfield was in the scheme to rob him of his play, but he hated to be- lieve that she was, since they had-been so chummy _ at the farm. He pulled the paper containing her ' ‘address, given him by Feeney, from his pocket, and studied it fora moment or two. : “TY guess I’ll go up and call on her,” he mused, “and tell about my experience with Mr. Thacker. She seems to be on very friendly terms with the agent. Maybe she will be able to help me out; f she can’t, ’ll see_a lawyer to-morow.” Bob crossed the square to Broadway, and then -walked up the Great White Way to West Thirty- ninth Street, on the corner of which stood the _ Casino. : Then he walked down to the number aie him by Keeney. He found it was a cheap- . looking apartment house called the Esmeralda, -. whose highly-ornamented vestibule brought into _strong relief its general tone of. shabhiness and~ & decay. Bob examined the names over the letter- . boxes until his eye rested on the following: _ “Canfield—Bertrand—Nadine—St. Clair,” one -under the other and pasted against the glass of one box. Bob pressed the electric button, and resently hé heard a clicking sound at the door- knob. Entering, he walked through the dimly-lit, - musty-smelling hall, and up several ‘flights of stairs, until he came to a landing where™a youn lady with a washed-out countenance, dressed. in.a soiled wrapper, stood waiting. - = ~ __ “Whom did you wish to see?” she asked, abrupt- ly. “Mrs, Canfield.” * “You mean Kittie Bertrand, I suppose. Walk inside.” ; ; ; Bob accompanied her to a sitting-room in which, upon a lounge, sat Mrs. Canfield and another ., young lady, also attired in wrappers, while a pair of chairs were occupied by two smoothly-shaven "young men in their shirt-sleeves, all chatting and Jaughing in a free-and-easy way. “Why, Bob Rider!” exclaimed Mrs. . Canfield, springing to her feet with the utmost astonish- ment. ‘Is it possible it is really you?” ~ « “Yes, ma’am; it’s me, all right,” replied Bob, _rather embarassed by the presence of the com- pany, who regarded his presence with some inter-. est, but no surprise. : .. “Well, I’m awfully glad to see’ you,” she said, # _ epspine his hand with considerable enthusiasm. | “When did you come to town?” Sete ae — Ye we ei gSOBTVe Oe FOR FAME “This morning, about eleven.” se _ “This is a surprise to see you. Allow me to introduce you to my dear friends, Gladys Nadine ~ _and Maude St. Clair. They rent this flat with me. Girls, this is Bob Rider, of Sunnyside Cottage, Greene County, up-State, a rising young dramatic author. Gladys is with the ‘Wizard of Oz,’ at the Casino. Mr, Montague Raleigh, Bob Rider. Mr. Raleigh is in vaudeville.’ He’s at the Victoria this week. Mr. Jack Deforest, Bob Rider, Mr. Deforest was with the ‘King df the Peacocks’ last season. At present he is resting. -And now that you all know each other, make yourself as com- 15 fortable as possible. If you feel warm, Bob, take oe your jac et. We don’t stand on any ceremony ere, : g Thus speaking, Mrs. Canfield made room for - acres, the lounge between herself and Gladys adine. ¥ * CHAPTER X.—Bob Comes to an Agreement With Thacker and Grimmer. “How did actress, ; * “I called at Mr. Augustus Thacker’s office and his office boy gave me your address.” “What did Mr. Thacker have to say about the prospects of putting your melodrama on?” “He was trying to make a déal with a manager named Grimmer, who has an angel in tow, to-take it on the road.” os 3 “That so?” replied the lady, with a look of in- terest. : C “Yes. The arrangement was that you were to be engaged to play the heroine. I thought you were rehearsing with one of Brougham’s com- - panies.” ° > Ve All present turned and looked at’ Mrs. Can- field in some surprise, and that lady blushed a bit. ee must have misunderstood me, Bob,” she said, z= 43 Bob knew that he had not misunderstood her, - for if she had spoken about Broughman once she had a dozen or more times at the farm. How- — ever, he was too much of a gentleman to contra- dict a lady, so he let it go at that. : . “By the way,” he continued, “I had some trou- ble with Mr. Thacker about my play.” “What was the trouble?” : “To tell you the truth, I don’t like his methods,” replied the young dramatist, bluntly. “He told Mr. Grimmer, the manager, in my hearing, that I wasn’t to be considered in the matter at all, He said: that the $50 to be paid you per week would . cover the royalty as well as your services.. Mr. Grimmer was also to pay your expenses.” . “Fifty per and ex. ought to put: you on Easy — Street, Miss Bertrand,” said Monteagu Raleigh; “that is, if the ghost walks regularly.” ~ ; “Sounds almost too good to be true,” chirped Gladys Nadine. “Tf you get all that, deat, you'll be cutting it,too fat for Maude and me.” ‘There must be some mistake about me drawing _your royalty, Bob,” said Mrs. Canfield. “Why, - that sounds too absurd for anything, doesn’t it, Mr. Deforest?” Fo gm ee “I should smile,” replied the unemployed per- _ former. {The profession is not usually so for- _tunate. at is-the name of your play, Mr. — 4 you find me*out, Bob?” asked the Rider?” . Po oe ko ae “Mit tea oy Sader testa aglias faba 3 TFe, AIO NE CAA eben ds Mt tase (teas a
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1 a 16 “‘The Red Light.’ ” “Ts it a lurid melodrama?” “Tt’s a melodrama in four acts.” « “T s’pose there is a lot of Stand-aside-villain- and-let-me-pass in it to catch the sympathies of the working people,” grinned Mr. Raleigh. “And the heroine is strongly emotional, of course,” added Mr. Deforest. “And is persecuted from the rise of the curtain till the villain gets it where the chicken got the axe,” giggled Gladys. ; “And the hero is a manly, self-sacrificing fellow who wears his heart on his sleeve, like all heroes do,” warbled Miss St. Clair, sweetly. Bob looked at the four professionals suspicious- ly, wondering whether they were guying his play. Mrs. Canfield came to his aid by assuring the com- pany that “The Red Light” was a play above the average, and would not disgrace a. Broadway play- house, . At that point the -electric -bell in the kitchen sounded, betokening more visitors, and Miss St. Clair left the room to push the button. In a few minutes she returned with two callers, who proved _ eto be Augustus Thacker and Manager Grimmer. Both were rather taken aback to find Bob Rider on the scene, and the theatrical agent hastily called Mrs. Canfield aside to ask how the boy came '* to be there. Whatever passed between them caused Mr. Thacker to make a change of front. “T want to apologize for what happened at my office to-day, Mr. Rider. I hope you'll let by- ~ gofies be by-gones. I 4m prepared.to make satis-~ factory terms with you in regard to your play. Miss Bertrand has made your cause her own, and consequently you’re bound to get a square deal.” _ “Yes, Bob,” put in the actress, “I have insisted that you shall be treated right or Mr. ‘Thacker will have to step down and out in the matter. It has been agreed to appoint you the treasurer of the Red Light Co., if you will accept the position, and you will be asked to assist im conducting the rehearsals, That will be satisfactory. to you, ‘Bob?” she asked, in the old fascinating way that ‘ had caught his fancy on the farm. Bob concluded that he would take a chance on it, and told her so. She advised him to ‘accept the position of treasurer and go out with the company. “You will gain a knowledge of show life that will be valuable to you hereafter, Bob,” she said. . “Besides, you will handle the money and be able ‘to pay yourself.’’. Manager Grimmer, who had glanced through Bob’s play, and expected to. get possession of it when he had pulled his angel’s leg to the tune of $150, -was very enthusistic about the possibilities . of the piece. , ~ ; ““The play is going to be a knock-out,” he said. As it was close on to five now, Bob said he’d have to be going, since he had to look up a place - to stop at, ‘ “Come down to the Trafalgar, where I put up. You can*get a room A STRUGGLE FOR FAME a forest into*the next room, where the latter’s hat and coat were. , - “Within a block,” replied the actor. ; “Here’s $2, Rider. Have ’em insert this adve tisement in next Tuesday’s issue,” handing Bob the-bill and a ae of paper. - “All right. Tl see that the paper gets it,” re- plied Bob, “Let’s see what the gazabo is advertising for,” ye Deforest, when they got down to the street oor. Bob opened the note and read as follows: WANTED—Leading man. Good dresser on and off. No fancy salary, but money sure. Also, a man for heavy lead, and a character man to man- age stage. Pay own. No fares advanced unless I know you. “Address Martin Grimmer, Mgr., Red Light Co. care Thacker, No. — Union Square, E. » y a a a “Looks as if he was after cheap people,” said Deforest. “If I were you, Rider, I’d insist on ‘ performers. A cheap bunch will only kill " your play. What sort of an angel has Grimmer in tow?” _ “A young man worth $20,000.” j The actor whistled. = Wie “Grimmer will bleach him. Lor’, how lucky some people are!” : s rs ‘ CHAPTER XI.—Bob Begins Work for Manager 4 Grimmer. ; Martin Grimmer, who was about to direct the destinies of Bob Rider’s four-act melodrama, “The Red Light,” was, as Michael Feeney had remarked, | “a tart manager. He clung to the,fringe of the- atricals, eking out a living that was sometimes luxurious, after a fashion, but most often precaris- ous, the means for which were provided by people of an extremely confiding nature, who had an — ardent desire to shine in the dramatic profession —either as embryo managers, or with the view of startling the world with their histrionic genius. The baijgthat he usually employed-wasathree-line __ —— ent, which ran something after tine: E ‘ashion: . sae ; WANTED—PARTNER who will invest $200 in repertoire and act as business manager and treasurer. Experience not necessary. A sure proposition. Address, Martin Grimmer, Trafal- gar Hotel; New York, ; All of Mr. Grimmer’s undertakings, ostensibl in the interest of his dupes, but actually in hiv own, were rank failures, eh ee His chief object was not so much the putting © the company on the road as to separate the $200 or more from his gullible partner. A few days — before Bob Rider’s visit to New York he had made — the greatest catch in his checkered career. George - Sutton, a young college graduate who had visions — of becoming a successful theatrical manager, an- — eswered his advertisement for a partner. He had just received a.Jegacy of $20,000, and was anx- ious to learn thé ropes.» He called on Mr. Grim- — - mer and had a talk with that foxy Saree | When, in a burst of confidence, he informed th * & tars eae i jo ~
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A STRUGGLE FOR FAME manager of the extent of his pile, Mr. Grimmer nearly fell off his chair, but managed to control himself. He assured Sutton that he was the very rson the young man needed to put him on 4 evel with the best-known managers of the day. It would take a little money, of coursessomething more than $200, to replied that he was willing to spend all the money necessary to accomplish his ambitious dreams. Manager Grimmer -then proceeded to lay out a scheme for his own enrichment. He told Sutton that he would make it his business to secure a first-class play and a suitable company to put the “game on the road. He drew up a liberal estimate of the cost of the paper required to advertise the show, and quoted all the other expenses connected with the enterprise. Sutton took his word for it all, and are as an evidence of A eae faith, ad- vanced Mr. Grimmer $250 for the purpose of starting the ball.rolling. : With such a gullible and moneyed angel in tow Mr. Grimmer decided that this time he would put out a show in earnest, and if it banned out he would take care to secure the lion’s share of the profits. On the day following Bob’s ‘visit to Mrs. Canfield’s flat he appeared at Augustus Thacker’s office according to arrangement with that gentl man.’ Michael Feeney’was in his chair, and Ke cast a doubtful glance at Bob, as the young dra- matist entered the room. He knew that his boss and the country boy had patched ut their differ- ences, but he wasn’t certain how Bob regarded his conduct in depriving him of his play. Bob - goon showed that he entertained no hard feelings on the subject. As far as he was concerned the incident was closed. : . “Want to see the boss?” volunteered Feeney, with unusual readiness. “You can let him know I’m here,” replied Bob. Feeney accordingly went into the private room and announced Bob’s presence in the outer office. The author of “The Red Light” was invited to walk inside. He found Phacker and Grimmer tops neppose you don’t mind making your if su m g yourself gen- erally PPefal till the company gets out?” said Manager Grimmer to Bob. z, “Certainly not, provided I’m not, expected to ‘jive on ain” answered the lad. __~ a Thacker grinned and was satisfied there was ~ — nothiag slow about the young author. d «Oh, T’ll pay your expenses, and a little over,” replied Grimmer. “I’ve rented an office on Broad- ‘way, and I want somebody I can trust to represent “me when I’m out, as well as to do my errands. - As you are to be connected with the business end ef the show, why, you might as well get into _., harness at once.” ; “Dm ready to do whatever you want, Mr, Grim- 4 mer. rs ‘ “All right. \That’s settled, then. The office is Room 23, N. — Broadway. It isn’t fitted up yet, as I only hired it this morning, but the furniture and other fixings will be there about two o’clock, * also the sign painter to decorate the glass panel ‘of the puter door. Here is the key. I want you to be there when the stuff shows up. Feeney will give you some lithographs and photos to tack on _ the walls. Everything is paid for oie the sign work, I don’t know how-much that will cost, but 1 diac afl : here is a $2 bill to pay the man. Get him to make work things properly. Sutton - 17 out a bill as # voucher, as my backer will require an accounting of all money expended,” and he winked expressively at Mr. Thacker. Bob was told that he would%be expected to be on hand daily between ten and three or four, then he was dismissed. “J see Grimmer is goin’ to take a regular show out this time,” said Feeney, when Bob returned to. the outer office. “He must have struck a gold é. ; “I guess he’s got a good backer, for it will take onepee to produce my. melodrama in proper As it aod a tccn ce Bob said he was going unch, after which he was going u to Mr. Grimmer’s officer sae CHAPTER XII.—Bob Calls on Stella Hamilton, ' Soon after Bob let himself into the bare room hired by Manager Grimmer for a temporary of- fice, the sign painter cit Some Bob handed are the copy he was to tmansfer in black letters to the meg When the painter had finished his job the oor bore the following legend: 37 SUTTON & GRIMMER “The Red Light,” and other attractions. Bob wondered what the other attractions were. In due time a cheap roll-top desk, atable and four chairs arrived and were placed.in suitable posi- ~~ tions. Then Bob opened the bundle he had brought from Thacker’s office, containing half a dozen lithos, some old play-bills, a dozen photos, some ancient dramatic publications, and a tack-hammer and tacks. He placed the publications on the table, and decorated the walls with the rest of the stuff. About this time Mr. Grimmer arrived, with — a bottle of ink, pens and pen-holders, a blank pad, and a couple of account books. yee He sat down at the desk and made out some~ yg ae letterheads, envelopes, and contracts. ‘ou’re not very well acquainted with the city, — are a Rider?” he asked Bob. “No, sir; but I guess I can find my way about.” “The next corner is Thirty-eighth Street.” - “I know that.” ‘ 1 : “Well, I want you to take this copy to a printer on’ Forty-second Street, near Sixth venue, He does theatrical work of this kind. ~ t’s on the north side of the street. Sixth - Avenue is the next street east of Broadway up , here. It’s west of ges below Thirty-second street. They cross at Herald Square. You can’t mistake, Sixth Avenue, because the elevated struc- ture is on it. Well, give the printer, there’s his name, this copy and that deposit, and tell him ~~ I must positively have the stuff to-morrow after- noon. Understand?” ae : “esi o right. Get up there as soon. as you can. Lock the door, for I’m going away, and you | needn’t return till the morning, for there’s noth- , ing for you to do.” : ene Bob eared his errand all right, and then spent the rest of the afternoon in Central Park. - After supper that evehing he called on the Hamiltons, who lived in a select apartment house on West Forty-fourth Street. .
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Se Bob spent a very pleasant evening with Stella and her mother, and left at ten o’clock, after :Promised to call. soon; again.~ About~ eleven ‘o'clock next morning, while Bob was reading an old copy of the paper, and waiting for Mr. Grimmer to appear, the door opened and a very handsome young man of about twenty-two years of age walked in. As Bob’s eyes rested on him he gave a start of surprise, for the visitor proved to be the young man he had rescued from a serious, if not fatal, accident the -previous afternoon on Irving Place, when he was chasing ~ Feeney to recover the mdhuscript of his play. The recognition was mutual. “Why, if my eyes do not deceive me, you are the boy who saved my life. yesterday,” said the caller, advancnig with outstretched hands. “That’s right,” admitted Bob.. “Well, I’m awfully* glad to meet you again. What’s your name? Are you working for Mr. Grimmer?” “Yes, I’m working for Sutton & Grimmer, and my name is Bob Rider.” “Let me introduce myself as George Sutten, Mr. Grimmer’s partner.” , Sutton?” said Bob, in “Are you really Mr. great surprise. “Tam. And I'll see that you’re well taken care of, Bob.” “Thank you, Mr. ‘Sutton. I suppose you don’t - know that I’m the author of ‘The Red Light,’ the melodrama you and Mr. Grimmer are about to put on the road?” - “You don’t mean’ that, do you?” cried Sutton, incredulously. “T certainly do. Mr. Grimmer will be here shortly and.be. will bear me out.” aig “Well, well, I am astonished. I took you for __ the office boy,” he said, laughingly. “You look ‘very young for a professional dramatist, and especially the author of a play that Mr.. Grim- mer assures me is a winner.” - “Tm growing older every day, Mr. Sutton, and will have a mustache by and by.” At that moment Mr. Grimmer tealiced in and greeted Sutton effusively. He was about to introduce Bob, when the - former said: “Oh, we already know each other.” . . Then he explained to the manager how Bob had saved him from serious inquiry. : “YT suppose you'll introduce that scene into one of your future plays,” said Mr. Grimmer to then Grimmer proceeded to tap his angel for _ the $150 to. get possession of the play from Mr. Thacker. ‘The young man wrote a check for the sun payable to Martin Grimmer. The manager en- ‘dorsed it and handed it to Bob. “ “Take that down to Thacker and bring back ie your play and the acting parts.” Petes jumped on a ear and got: off at Union On entering Thacker’s office he found over-prosperous, while several were decidedly shabby. Bob noticed that McKean Ranter occu- ‘pied the center of the stage, so to speak. -. Bob rushed over to Feney. - Mr. ees is- “engaged, z suppose?” Hes said. Bob. : « Sutton and the young dramatist laughed, and ne ‘dt we er filled with professional-looking people, all | of whom were talking shop. None of them looked — A STRUGGLE FOR FAME a “y shania smile,” grinned the office boy. “Any-~ thing important?” “T have comie down for the manuscript of my play. Here is Mr. Sutton’s check to cover Mr. Thacker’s fee for placing it. Will _you take it in to him?” “Sure, I will,” and he did so. He came out presently and said the boss would like to see him. Bob entered the room and found the agent engaged with a dashing chorus ir “This check, Rider, is my ms uisite for plac- ing your play, understand. all expect you .to remit a similar- amount, - any way that’s most convenient to you, after you get on the road. Just sign that little document, which is simply an evidence of your indebtedness to me in the matter.” He handed Bob his pen and pushed the paper toward him. Bob read it over carefully, to ‘see that there were no traps in it, and then put. his auto; pone raph to it. at completes our business relations, I be- lieve,” said the young dramatist, “Yes, unl unless you should happen to default in your payments; but, as your play strikes me as a winner, I think’ we shall have no trouble. on that score.” “Not if I get a square. ‘deal from the manage- mertt, and Iam sure I can varie on Mr. Sutton, at any rate.” CHAPTER XIII.—Bob Rehearses His Melodrama Having got possession of Bob’s melodrama, Mr. Grimmer proceeded to engage people for the various’ parts as cheaply as he could, using as an inducement “a long season and money sure.” Mr. Grimmer had engaged a hall on Sixth Avenue for the company to rehearse in, and as . 800n the the manager had made up the cast the professionals were directed to report there on a certain morning ten o’clock to hear the author read _ his pia .and receive their parts. - A few minutes before ten Bob locked up the office, and, accompanied by George Sutton, with whom he had become quite chummy, and Mr. Grimmer, he, proceeded to the hall with the type. written gary under his arm. tes The rehearsals were to-be conducted under the * joint direction of Bob and the stage manager, and both .were promptly on hand next morning at the appointed hour. “Let’s get to. work,” said Bob, a few minutes. m after his. arrival] at the hall. “There’s a set cottage on rocks near upper entrance, right. Just - pee a chair there to represent the cottage, Mr. orkins,”’ addressing the stage manager. “Put another to represent tavern, which is at second entrance, left, Push that small table in front of it with a chair on either side. We will now | consider the stage set for the act. Let me see, : Mr. Richards plays Pospoeh the old fisherman. Where is Mr, Richards?” - “Here Iam,” said the actor engaged for second old man. “Well, begin. You're discovered seated on. a ; rock lookine through a telescope seaward. You rise and come down to a point about on a line with that table,” said Bob. “Mrs. Parker,” | espe lpgieing. at the apsachs of ediens Sat Reo res al ait deta Siggth P4 je
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A STRUGGLE FOR FAME “Yes,” said the actress in. question. “You are cast for Mrs. Meiggs, I believe. Be ready to take up your cue.” None of the ladies and gentleman, Mrs. Caft- field excepted, seemed to have made any very serious effor® to master their lines for the first rehearsal, and all read from their parts, more or less. The first rehearsal was more of an in- formal breaking in than anything else, but for all that. Bob wouldn’t stand any slop work. Several of the performers got to squabbling over their relative positions in a tertain scene, and the stage manager's. efforts to straighten it out only made matters worse. *Bob then interfered and called the whole bunch down. What he said was right to the point. ;“Oh, you aren’t the manager of the show,” re- torted” one of the comedians. \ “Mr, Sutton,” said Bob, addressing the angel, “does my authority go, or doesn’t it?” - “It goes, every time,” replied the junior manager, promptly. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he added, to the company, “Mr. Ridex may not be an actor, but he wrote this play ‘and he understands how things ought to be done. He will not object to any suggestions made on your art in good faith, and will consider and adopt em if he thniks proper.” George Sutton spoke courteously, but finely, and his speech carried great weight. After that Bob had little further trouble. When business was over for the day, Bob politely but compari & aye the people to understand that he expected them to know the larger part of their lines on the fol- ‘lowing day, and they were satisfied that he meant what he said, and that they’d hear from him if they didn’t ¢ome to time. *, ‘ Mrs. Canfield complimented Bob on the firm way he had handled the people at the very start. ' - "You have marked executive ability, Bob, and have the power to make age ons obey without nec~ essary fuss. You will be able to accomplish far more than some stage managers who browbeat and swear at the performers. As soon as the people know you better, any grouch they may % entertain against you will vanish like dew before ; the rising sun. g : _ put they know and recognize a master mind when they meet one. The people who are putting up the greatest howl outside now on their way home - will probably turn out to be your best friends _ and admirers later on.” And the actress’s words turned out true. As the rehearsals progressed the grouch that many .. of the professionals entertained against the young = sg) dramatist dually wore off. e consulted fre- quently with the stage manager ahd took all sug- gestions into consideration. He permitted the two comedians and soubrette all latitude to am- plify their parts, but he set his foot down on gagging, except in a few instances where it was shown to him that it was sure to improve their scene. By the time the rehearsals were well ‘under way he had the whole company broken to~ harness, and they all were now of the opinion that B he was a first-class chap, _ fessional.» baer Nearly all the members of nto the Broadway office after icit advances, as th the company drop- the first week td @ prised to see George Sutton standing at the en- Some actors are chronic kickers, ' even if he wasn’t a pro- : their finances were -at a & 19 ~ low ebb, and all got enough to see them through until the company took the road. The route hav- ing been satisfactorily booked; the printing, which was extensive, in readiness for delivery; and the scenery, special and otherwise, mechanical effects, properties, etc., packed ready for transportation, the advance agent of the organization departed ; for Pompton, where the company was to begin its tour. In a few days a bulky letter of advices.was received by mail at the office, addressed to Sutton & Grimmer. Bob and the angel were in the office at the time, chatting pleasantly together, eel Sutton opened the envelope. The letter containe useful information intended for Mr. Grimmer’s instruction. The following, relating to hote] ac- commodation for the people, at professional rates, Bob posted up at the hall at the next rehearsal: *Pompton House ........$2.00 single $1.75 double . **Taylor’s Hotel ........1.50 “ D2B isk Ry {ype ***Palmer House ..:...... 1.00 “ Remarks: *Best house in town. Accommoda- tion first-class. Free ’bus, **Patronized by the —~ profession. Good, Free bathrooms and free ’bus. j ***European plan. Restaurant, table d’hote and’: & la carte. Close. to depot. ti To the above Mr. Grimmer added the following: oe “Members of this company will report at "Shae , Erie ferryhouse, foot of West Twenty-third street, Saturday morning, in time to take the 7:30 boat for Jersey City. Personal baggage must be in readiness for collection by expressman on previous ~ afternoon. ‘ “Sutton & Grimmer, Managers.” — ws | h Daete>* ap CHAPTER XIV.—The Ugmasking of a * ' Rascal, Ww eal | When Bob appeared at the office on Thursday morning about half-past nine he was rather sur- ~ trance of the ant: ; “Good-morning, Bob,” he said; rather solemnly. : “Good-morning, Mr. Sutton. You’re on hand = early today. Going to the rehearsal?” a “No. I wanted to have a talk with you before Mr. Grimmer came down.” 3 Pie “He isn’t likely to be here before one to-day. He went to a high jinks at the club last night, ‘and I guess it was well along toward morning before he got to his downy couch.” © aE They walked up to the office, and Sutton seated 4 himself at the desk. ; ~ “Bob,” said the angel, “I think I can trust you.” — * “You certainly can,” replied the boy, earnestly, - surprised at Sutton’s words and manner. - “What do you know about Mr. Grimmer?” “Not a great deal. You’ve known him longer than I have.” : ; “A few days longer, perhaps. Look here, Bob, * I’ve put about $8,000 into this show so far.” 3 “Right thousand?” 2 as “Yes, Every time Mr. Grimmer asked me for the cash to pay this bill.or that, or advance the © money for such or such a thing, I’ve come up wit out question. I’ know it takes considerable coin to put a good show on the road, and I wanted to back:a-good one or none, Last night I was in= — Ze 7
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& 20 2 troduced to a theatrical man who claimed to know a whole. lot about Mr. Grimmer. What he told me took my breath away.” - “What did he tell you?” ~, “Tn the first place, he said that, as a real man- ‘ager, Mr. Grimmer wasn’t worth the powder to “blow him to pieces. He told me that Mr. Grimmer lived on the eredulity of the people he caught through his advertisements. He said most of Mr. ~~ Grimmer’s dupes coughed up anywhere from $50 = to $200 for the privilege of becoming the business * manager or treasurer of a show that existed only ‘on paper, and that one young lady, now behind the counter of a department store had transferred the whole of a $1,500 legacy piecemeal to him under the impression that he could make a star out of her. In her case he actually did hire a _ company of tenth-rate professionals and put ‘The / | Lady of Lyons’.on the road, in which she was - featured as Pauline, but the company was strand- ed somewhere out in Pennsylvania, and while Mr. Grimmer returned to the Rialto in a Pullman, > the others, including the unfortunate girl, were obliged to leave their trunks for board and get -back to New York as best they’ could.” “That was a hard reputation to give you of — your partner,” ‘said Bob, not ‘greatly surprised himself, after the hints he had received from _ Mr. Thacker’s office boy, who seemed to know a ~ whole lot more about Mr. Grimmer than he would ¥ = give away. bees -. “Be didn’t know that Mr. Grimmer was my partner.” es “Did you tell him?” #6 _.. “No, he went'on to tell me that Mr. Grimmer _-. had lately given such evidences of unusually pros- sperity that it was the talk of the Rialto that he ust have caught®a gudgeon with a fat wad. He said Mr. Grimmer, had announced’ that he was - putting a new’and original melodrama, called ‘The - Red Light,” on the road, headed by a third-rate ‘actress, known to the profession as Kittie Ber- ‘trand. He claimed it was going to be a winner, pnd he expected. to make enough to own a bank : ‘by the time he got back. Well, the gentleman I was talking to said he felt sorry for the angel who was backing the show with his good money, as -it wasn’t likely he would ever get a cent back, whether the company nfade any money pr not. ‘i manipulate the expenses so that they would ap- “peam to eat up all the profits, if there were any, - pnd that'if business was not very good he would ~. all on his backer to make up the actual or ap- - parent deficiency, in default of which he would-im- mediately dissolve their partnership and go it: “alone if the prospects warranted the risk.” “His estimate of Mr. Grimmer doesn’t sound very encouraging,” sald Bob. - “J should say not.. It makes me uneasy, for I don’t like to think that I am up against such a ‘kind of man. He certainly does present a swell -- appearance to what he did when I first met him. oe He was almost shabby then. He hasn’t asked me 0 loan him a single dollar for his personal fe. ' - \What’s the inference? That he has been mi ing 1 good rake-off from the $8,000 which I have vanced to fit owt the show”, 5. Me PT eas a) 3%, em? tee - waited for the actress to proceed. He said Mr. Grimmer would take care’ _ A STRUGGLE FOR FAME . “It would look like it,” admitted. Bob. i At that moment there was a light tap on the oor. : : “Come in,” said Bob. : © The door opened and admitted’ Mrs. Canfield.- “Come right in, Miss Bertrand,” said Sutton, in his genial way- ¢ Her face was flushed, her eyes had a suspicious redness, and her step was a bit unsteady as she walked to a chair and sank into it. Bob,had never seen her look so strange before, and rather marveled at sit. : : “I’m afraid I’m a little off this morning,” she said, in a slightly hysterical way. “I’ve been ill.” Sutton smiled slightly. : “You called to see Mr. he said, politely. “No,” putting her hand to her throat as if something choked her, “I called to see you—and-: . Bob. Mr. Grimmer won’t be down here till after-~ noon. He and Gus Thacker went to the club last night, and they’ve got to sleep it off.” ¥ Bob and Sutton looked at each other, and then — Grimmer, I suppose?” “Myr. Sutton, you have pur up the money—as __ much as $8,000—to start this show on the road,” she said, with some hesitation. 7 ; “J have,” replied Sutton, surprised at her words. “And you have never suspected that Mr. Grim- mer has been working you right along.” j “This is rather plain language, Miss Bertrand,” said “Sutton. = z “Tt is the truth: It-may not be to my interest, _ nor the interest of others concerned; to expose the trickery*practiced on you, but——”, she put her hand to her throat again, “I can’t forget that— that you saved my sister’s life.” “I saved your sister’s life!” exclaimed Sutton, astonithed. “What do you mean?” - Gene - “You and Bob. Last week you loaned me $100 through Bob. Before that I appealed to Grim- mer, explained the circumstances but he turned me down. My sister was dangerously ill. She is . pee two children, and was deserted by her ~ usband. Money was urgently necessary to pay — the doctor and other bills: To send her to a hos- pital im her condition was certain death. I had no money to speak of myself. When. Grimmer — wouldn’t help me out I went to acker but - he said he ,was broke which was a lie. I did — not. know. what to do. I was due at the hall for rehearsal but I was nearly crazy for my ~ sister is more to me than all the world. On my way up the avenue I met Bob: He saw I looked bad and asked,me what was the matter. I told him how I was fixed and begged him to try. — and get theeloan of a hundred from you. I asked him not to tell you why I wanted the money, if he could help it.” 7 “He didn’t tell me,” said Sutton. “He asked — me for the loan of $100 for himself. He never said a word about. you. I gave it to him as I ~ would to any friend I thought a lot of.” pst The actress sprang up, threw her arms around Bob’s neck and kissed — 00:
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A STRUGGLE “You are welcome to it, since it was for you Bob borrowed it,” said Sutton. : ~ 4] came here this morning not only to thank you, but to put you on your guard against Grim-* mer. He looks on youras the easiest mark he has ever run across. Although you have furnished the money to put the show out, he does not intend to give you a square deal. If the play eatches - on it is his intention to get rid of you. he has no intention of paying you any royalty whatever, Bob. He expects to make you earh your $15 as his general assistant, and that’s all you'll get.” ; : “How did’ you find all ‘asked Bob. “T have suspected his intentions from the first, ‘and I mean to stand by you, Bob, and try an ~ force him to do you justice.” __ “Thanks; but how, about Mr. Sutton? Why didn’t you give me a hint so I could warn him of what he was up against?” “Bécause I was looking-out for my own interest, as well as yours. You-couldn’t get your play pro- - duced without 4 backer, and if your play went on the road I was sure of a job, and I need one _ ‘padly. Why should I say anything to frighten off _ the angel Grimmer had in tow, and thus s oil ~ your chances and mine? I had no interest in Mr. Sutton until he loaned me that money throu h ~ you. Besides, I did not know till last night. the full measure of Grimmer’s duplicity—I only sus- pected his methods.” ee : Mrs. Canfield then went on to state that Grim- mer and Thacker had spent a part of the previous evening at her flat before they went to the club. ‘She had overheard Grimmer, ‘who was under the ‘influence of a number of highballs, tell Thacker how fie had fleeced his angel out of a considerable part of the money he had advanced to equip the show. He had bought second-hand scenery at a bargain, had it touched up “nd charged it on the - pooks as new. Most ofthe properties had been gotten in the same way, brightened up and billed ' as made to order. © z ‘ He had arranged with - yake-off, which, of course, the backer’s pocket. Altogether he had managed to secure about $2,000 in this manner. He would, of course settle with the various managers him- self, and hold on te the money, rendering @ state- ment of expenses largely in excess of the real dacts.:- = ; * In fact, he had everything cut and dried for ~. swindling Sutton at every point of the game, rely- _ dng fof success on the young man’s professional =. ignorance. When Mrs. Canfield finished, Mr. Sut- ton was almost paralyzed with the astounding rev- elation. _He thanked her politely for the informa- ‘tion she had furnished, and then told her she had better go up to the hall at once, where she would be late at the rehearsal, and tell the stage man- _- ager that Bob would not be there that day. “JT may have killed the show,” ‘she said, almost regretfully. “If I have, -I am sorry for Bob’s - sake as well as my own; but, after what you did for me, even unknowingly, I could not let you be bed further without putting you wise to your this. out, Mrs. Canefild WSs the printer for a stiff it Nee Bey SNe pein ai WERE A, Ee ethe show myself.” actually came out of * FOR FAME — 21° said Sutton. - “It will go out on schedule: = one ee ea Mr. Grimmer remains Gi the ete suepigeed if : _ - : = > o SLs CHAPTER XV.—In a Struggle £ . Bob Comes Out ont = ig REY “Well, Bob, I seem to be up against it hard,’"| - sald George Sutton, : ae as the fie. as soon as Mrs, Canfield left} aes ou are, for a fact, and I’m dead = — eye.” < “T can head that off by having him’ once on the charge of swindlin 5, ae 2 ae aa te Sette re eae = ion must be pre ing with. Then Miss eee ee Be Amounts to nothing. It cannot be corrobo a ated, and he and Thacker will both swear thati Mrs. Canfield imagined the conversation,” ‘ -“Y’ll have the-printer and the manager of they = ey City storehouse Rt on the stand and = PA jure a : ; ou could do that, I suppose,” admitted Boby “In any case the show is likely to be stall v ioaee pcre ie aspect or ° ves a =e “Ym not sure about that. I want td with me now around to a good prostcien - re If I can get a first-class man I’ll close with, him, on his own terms. I’ll send the show’ out under his direction with the understanding that you rep~ — resent me until I join the company. _You will ch oe ig Silgd, alt aie wil that do?” Pere ~ #Tt -willgdo all right. I'l. see ‘that’s, coming £0 you." you get all that's at’s all I want, and I’ll see that you get alk} that’s coming to you accordi iginal; — soe rding to your original) “Pve no fear but that you’ll treat hitas ++ Mr. Sutton, and T’ll do the same iy a : Twiskh : Se could ne some tangible evidence against Mx. = sine ie at would compel him to draw out Vols Sutton pulled-down the account book of the firth. ‘Every cent I’ve paid out is down in this book, and Mr. Grimmer has been careful to _procyre a voucher to offset the expenditures. If» I. could prove in court that. a number of the. more im- portant vouchers are padded, and do not represent, the actual cost of the articles billed, I’d have tha) <a ies
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. _ new , on Mr, Sutton that evening at his , S to go was _ Jet the stage manager ; @ man to go me, and after some objection on the R2 rascal where the hair is short. The only way I » see to get at the bottom of the swindle is to get ward have it out with Mr. Grimmer. I'll get h the men-who furnished the bills into. court and th t . will a force them to testify. I e be _and pass upon value. If it’s old material touched up, he’ll know the fact at a glance, and will be able to pypraice its real value, and testify to that before 4 magistrate. I can get estimates for our paper from two or three other show-printing establishments, and use them ps exhibits of overcharge. In fact, I think I will ve no great difficulty in corn Mr. Grim- mer and forcing him out of the pg S After some further talk, Sutton and Bob went to a first-class dramatic agency and made for an A-1 business: manager. The agent a good one on his books and agreed pes him call ouse, then detailed B to three show- printing houses and get estimates on the work al- , while he started for the or and awaiting ‘Bob finished his to dence that Mr. Grimmer had turned up yet, so b went on up to the where the through the rehearsal. The way through, and Bob sat back and direct matters as he had been doing. = the ged op act was ed him {f he had just come from the hall and . After a short time the manager went away, bat Bob alte tor Sutin bo ahem ube i r and he um; "T got over to Jersey iy Pi gtorehouse people he w&s permitted to overha' the stuff paid for by me. He told me that the of the scenery was ‘second-hand, and that gome of it looked as if it had been on the road peveral seasons. The only.new material was the * lighthouse, and the set tavern in the first act, to- ° gether with one tree piece. The properties were al] second-hand. He gave me a my estimate of its value, and’ what it had probably cost to repair and patch up. I then interviewed the man- r-of the place and demanded to know why I d- been charged for new scenery and properties mhen it was really second-hand. The oferch - . was fully $1,500 on my expert’s estimate. - gigned statement that I could use Mme 8 manager denied that such overcharge had been Rada and showed the entry in his books approxi- mately the amount my man had made it. He ad- mitted that he had rendered the bill at the rate of mew stuff at the request of Mr. Grimmer, sand that when the manager brought him my check he returned him the sum of $1,600. I threatened to make things warm for him unless he gave me a be ag No Met Grimmer, and I’ve got it in my poc ow le the estimates you got from the printers.” Bo) owed three, nearly equal in amount, the nf Fi eing $300 lower than the bill Sutton had * ela. : “- *, en charged for- -them down A STRUGGLE FOR FAME Tl] see the printer in the morning and after- before you go to the last rehersal, and rob- ably see you afterwards at the hall and let you - know the result.” That night Sutton engaged the business man- ager for the show, and next morning called on the printer, who admitted that the real price of the paper furnished was$250 lower than the bill called for, which had been made out at Grimmer’s request, to whom the printer returned that amount on receipt of Sutton’s check. At the angel’s request he réluctantly furnished him with a signed statement admitting all the facts, and then Sutton went to the office, where he found his guilty partner. What passed between them never came out, but it was an unpleasant interview, and ended with Grimmer’s surrender and withdrawal from the firm with his ill-gotten gains to console himself with. On Monday morning the show proceeded to Biephantsn, and during the trip b and the erformers read the flattering notice printed in the ene “Daily Times,” where “The Red Light” had its initial performance. morning the Bin, ton press had count complimentary notices it the play, but did not speak quite as well about the company, Miss Bertrand excepted. . { “The Red Light,” played to fair, good and houses during the whole of its tour, and — ed by the dramatic critics, At the beginning of its last month it played in the Four- teenth Street Theatre, New York, was so suc- and the pla: per en yy wound up. O, attendance. bet the first week Bob fulfilled his promise to tlla by Batya) Bee ont pid mother’ a pass fe a box. ey en e show ensely? couldn’t praise Bob's melodrama , eae ” Bob sent for his mother and Sam Summer and had as his guests for a week. Both ex- pressed themselves enthusiastically about the play. Bob’s see for the season amounted to about $4,500 clear profit. Sutton made a handsome pe: himeelf, well up in the thousands. He and ‘ob took the play out for a 40-week tour the fo! lowing season, new scenery and a much bet-- ter company, which included Miss Bertrand, whom Bob wouldn’t shake for even a better actress, and their profits were larger. During the summer Bob wrote another play, which, however, he and Sut- ton did not ‘produce for another year, as “The Red t” continued to be a er, ” roa eg - a gpeeiger, v4 mous mai an plays are mi after by the best managers; but George. Sutton, who has developed into a ape manager, : the call on anything that his friend writes. ra Bob is engaged to Stella Hamilton, and they ine . tend to be, married at the close of the present season. Although he is fairly rich, and has an assured position the dramatic world, he sa that the was making A Struggle for Fame. Next week's issue will contain “THE YOUN@ MONEY MAGNATE; or, THE WALL STREET BOY WHO BROKE THH MARKET.” appiest season of his life was when he - — ;
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‘HARRY THE HALF-BACK OR tap A FOOTBALLIST FOR FAIR By GASTON GARNE (A Serial Story.) CHAPTER IX.—(continued) It was suggested that, lured by the beauty of the scenery, he had climbed up on the steep bluff overlooking the lake, had lost his footing and fallen in and been drowned. : _.. The lake was dragged all along the shore, but _ the body was not found, of course. One or two of the searching parties had passed within fifty yards of the old cabin where Wins- low was at that very moment a prisoner, but had | not discovered the existence of the cabin. ; By noon the search had been abandoned. All ~ had been‘done that could be done. : Some thought that Winslow had, for come un- accountable reason, fled, but Walter Denman hooted at the idea. — _° “Something has happened to H. he said. “He is not body or anything.” - Professor Marshfield had suggested telegraph- ing to the youth’s parents, but Denman persuaded him not to do so, as he feared it might be too much of a shock to Winslow’s mother. ; “No; let us wait,” he said. : ; that Harry will turn up soon, all right, and with a good explanation for his absence.” ; After dinner was over the minds of all turned to the football fame which was to be played that ‘ : a : ,-I am sure,” e fellow to fiee from any- “ afternoon. ; It was the first of a series of three games for - the championship that were to be played by the * © Wrightmore and Larchmount teams. 2 Parker and Westley were sad and solemn-: looking, for they realizéd that unless Winslow turned up within the next two hours they would have to play without him, and Wilkins would have to be put in to play right halfback. aad -___ Anxiously they waited, and they hoped against ~ hope that the missing student would turn-up, but when the time came to go on the field Winslow was still missing. @. Wilkins was out with the other players, with his Sik uniform on, and he was told to take his place fér the first half. ; A great crowd was present to see the game. Practically all the students from both colleges _ ‘were present, and many sport-loving citizens from - the ‘villages: Among the latter were many pretty tee Bias fresh-faced and bright-looking, and. dressed their Sunday best. ae e presidents and faculties of the two col- = Mie . The i i were present, each with its own contingent of students and the citizens of the village of the one name as the college near which it was lo- ee SEE ~ Rivalry ran high between the colleges and vil- ges, ‘iid each patient was confident that its 1 would wins 2 aes aS Professor Marshfield was a widower, but he y =, FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY “I am confident. « ‘letes. = ~ had a daughter, a beautiful, rosy-cheeked, red-. lipped, blue-eyed maiden of seventeen years. Win- mie was her name, and she was indeed winning in ‘looks and manners. She dearly loved to watch the students when engaged in athletic contests, and was always present at all the baseball, foot- ball, basketball and other games, when Wright- ~ more was playing with some opposing team, either Larchmount or elsewhere. : Near the center of the grandstand a little box had been built, extending out a few feet nearer the gridiorn than the main stand, and’in this box, on this afternoon sat Professor Marshfield an Winnie. “Papa, isn’t it too bad that the new halfback should have esr ogee just at the time when they need him so badly on the team!” remarked ~ Winnie, as they watched the two elevens taking’ their places on the field. ‘ ; ; “Yes, Winnie; but that is not the worst of it. I am afraid that something serious has happened to the young man.” . : ‘ “TI haven’t seen him, papa, but they say he was a splendid eta As you say, however, much as we would like to have him here to play, the ae would be to know that he is alive and we = “You are right, Winnie i, that he will turn up soon. “T hope so, papa.” still, somehow I feel Ad ~ ¢s a Near the professor’s box sat Perc “Silkwell! F and his immediate cronies, Small and Thorp— Wilkins was down on the gridiorn—and perhaps’, a dozen fellows who had stuck to Silkwell, and’ who sympathized with him when he was thrashed: — by Winslow. . : ie Silkwell was near enough so that he could hear — and understand what was said by the professor” and Winnie, and there was a peculiar look in his” eyes as he gazed upon.the fair face of the girl, The truth of the matter was: that he was in love . with Winnie, though she had never given him any encouragement. : done all she could to discourage him, for she did not like him. ~ ‘ : “Tf I thought there was any danger that you would take a liking to that scoundrel Winslow, To the. contrary, she had ~ ad us = =: ps > ss he would never turn up here again,” was the ~- youth’s thought. “I would give Grump the tip - to put him out of the way for good and all. They ~ would do it, too, for money, all right.” : : His eyes glowed viciously, for he hated Wins- low, and the thought that the handsome young student would never appear to interfere with his plans for the future was a pleasing one. “I may do it!” he whispered, viciously; “yes, = I may do it.” ‘ At this mioment the game began and instantly every eye was centered upon the contending — teams. Ors fs It was Larchmount’s kickoff, and their center __ nt It was caught by < ~ ilkins, who started to race back with it} but he sent the ball far up the field. money—and I haye the ~ BS was successfully tackled before he had gone five ~~ yards and down he went, kerthump. hat is worse, he lost his hold upon the ball, which went: rolling away from him, and one of the Larch- mount men pounced upon it like a hungry tiger, and lay upon it while both teams piled upon top, of him, a mountain of squirming, struggling ath- Se e
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24 This was bad, and a groan went up from the Wrightmore adherents, while wild cheers were pope vent to by the Larchmount rooters. Larchmount! Larchmount! Rah, rah, rah!” was the cry. : And then: “Larchmount! Larchmount! see’ boys BL try; ey’ll ame— They'll oe a tad This went up. in a s roaeg chorus, followed by wild cheering, and the Larchmount players, Elaine the ball in hae possession, within twenty- five yards of their opponents’ goal-line, went to work like tigers in an attimpt to force the ball over by means of fierce scrimmages. When Percy Silkwell witnessed the playing of ma a grim smile of satisfaction came to his “Julian did that on fag oor ”” he me “He tted himself to and he Ree ot ihe ball porposely, i a me ee It that Larchmount 1 win, and ae I will i. two hundred dollars to the good when this game comes to an end!” Winnie Marshfield’s face was a study ahen she gaw the Larchmount players get the ball and be- gin! beatin, sting the Wrightmore peaers slowly but may, toward their goal- mo papa, isn’t it too bad?” she murmured. innie; it looks as though our boys fy ea to be beaten to-day.’ “Tt was all Winkins’s fat Pp apes 0h Oh ing ht I wish that Mr. Winslow—Harry; ey call oe Sek here to play the mat went win then; I just know we would!” And Perc jana, who heard the words,- . frowned darkly and fairl ground *his teeth. “She has been made to think Winslow is a won- erful fellow just by hearing the students talk,” e thought. “Well, he isn’t here, and so can elp win the game, thanks to m: o tree manage-~ ‘ ment!” and he chuckled in a satisfied manner. “What's so funny?” asked Small. “Why, don’t you see2 Wrightmore is oe peaten, Gene. Isn’t that enough to make a fellow ges lated when he tae two hundred dol- ars wagered on the other team, eh?” on careful; some one might hear you,” warned 8mal Meanwhile. the game was going on fiercely. The Larchmount eleven fought like tigers and a: d to gain enough in three trials each time ia entitle them to hold the ball, and at last, when ll there remained only a fow minutes of the t half, they got the wen across the line for a ee the € fi 1 they did not get th n the ‘or goa ey did not get the ball between tie posts, so the half ended *with the score five to nothing in their favor. ~ The Larchmount students and rooters in gen- 1 put in the whole ten minutes that came be OE een the halves in singing songs of victory and cacpeutea, Be he y were confident that their @leyen would wi The ae students and adherents were eee too, believed that the Larchmount ie ie "put they hoped it would not, and they rat themselves jn readiness to lend all the x moral parpors fa inate! perce Het nigouent Sat FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY players gave them the least thing’ to be enthusi- astic about. , The ten,minutes were up, and the teams were just trotting onto the fie d from the dressing- room, when on the air rose a loud cheer from the Wrightmore students. “Winslow! Winslow!” was the cry. the Halfback, is coming! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!” Instantly there was .great excitement. The people craned their necks, and lboked, to see young man, dressed in football clothes, coming to ward the field on the run. A half-smothered exclamation. of amazement and rage, commingled with sand a es- « ° caped the ned of Percy Silkwell “Wouldn’t that eZ you?” he muttered. “Now how i jn the world did he manage to escape and get re? “Careful!” whispered Small. “Some one will hear you!” | An inarticulate growl was the only response, Oh Cane of rq upon the approaching wi eyes of en Play ball!” he pam yr to Captain Westley “What’s the matter with you?” perc ‘Curl “Harry, Carwell. ee the Halfback, is coming, an bes sp going to play halfback in the last half, urrah e : A pore went up from the students, Parker and Westley ran to meet Winslow, and — the former cried out Pend “Where have you been, inslow? Why were you_not here when the game began?” “No time to explain now,” was the reply. “T would have been. here, jhad I been able to get here, - rest assured on that.” “We have needed you,” said Westley; “we have needed you badly. ‘The score is five to nothing against us.” They were walking along in front of the seats where the Wrightmore students and adherents ' gat, and suddenly Winnie Marshfield Gappet her hands and cried: ‘Harry, the Halfback, ia here now and we will certainly win.’ Winslow turned’ his —_ uickly and nee at the speaker. His eyes those of the and in t instant it ried all over with him. was in love be the owner of the sweet voles and beautiful ey hot Winnie Tiushed like a peony and dro’ i in confusion, but somehow she felt an she had felt a few moments before. She did’ not realize it as but, she was struck by the manly beauty of the handsome halfbagk, was more than half in love with him. ; “Who is the fairy,, Westley?” queried Wine , ow. “Why, that is Winnie Marshfi the sor’s daughter, Haven’t you met ed I Rhee ~s you knew her.” “No; this ig the first time I have seen her.” | Ey “She is an enthusiast over athletic contents Pe all kinds; she would give her eyes if we “Td Pidbe ape die if I ong reat: I could at same e win ow, ; such earnestness that Her. Wastiey loo eae at him keen, y and rematked ov, you're struck, too, the same ae all the a ne, oe ay w Bata Gs © 2 6 et ae
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F FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY rest of us. Well, go in and win the game and maybe you will be able to win her eyes. If so, ou will have better luck than the rest of us, though.” 6 “T’ll_ do my best on both counts,” grimly. — +» “Geod for you, and good luck .to you.” At this moment Wilkins came up, looking an- gry and sullen. . .'“Look here, Westley,” he said, “are you going _ to put me off and let this fellow play?” “He is the regular man, Wilkins, so he will play hig position.” - “But he wasn’t here to play when the game be- gan, and I don’t call it a square deal to put me off after I have——” ‘ _. “Almost lost the game*by losing the ball and letting Larchmount get it,” called out Curly Car- well. Wilkins had spoken loud enough so that those in the seats had heard him. e - > OAC CT ere es “That’s right; that’s what he has done,” cried Jimmy Opper. & “Go way back and,stand up, Wilkins!” from ; arley Dayton. ; Onto <b rk pa all,” ordered Captain Westley. “Come, Winslow.” ee s 4 With an inarticulate growl of rage, Wilkins made his way up to where Silkwell and his cron- _ fes sat, and they exchanged condolences in low es. Nobody paid any attention to them, however, as the game was now on. Everybody was eager,to see how Winslow would play. ‘ -. They soon saw. He played like a demon. It was Larchmount’s kickoff and Winslow caught the ball and st#rted on a run. Away he went at racehorse speed, dodging, 2 ee h Senet this way and that, and occas- Yonally he hurled a Larchmount “would-be tack- ler out of his way as though hé were a child. Winslow seemed to possess the strength of two or three youths. : Instantly the Wrightmore students sat up a cheer. pete “4 touchdown! A touchdown! H - Halfback, will make it!, Hurrah!” cried « Opper, rising and dancing wildly about. “Go it, Harry! Go it, old man!” © — “Yes, run, Harry! Run—run—run!” cried Winnie, also rising and standing erect, her hair blowing in the breeze, her blue eyes sparkling with eagerness and excitement. « Harry heard and recognized the voice, and it sent a thrill through his entire being. He ‘sud- _ denly became possessed of renewed enerey, and he tore around the end, evading the guard, and away he went straight for the opposing team’s goal-line. -. Only one man was between him and” the goal —the fullback. mount fullback, every one became as silent as leath. ase hx _ Would Harry make the goal? _ Would the opposing man down him? - Closer and closer, and then, just as the Larch- nalfback, up into the air sprang Harry, the Half- A He went high above the other, alighted on his oe the immy As Harry, the Halfback, neared the Larch-° nount player made a dive to tackle the filing - 25 oe and dashed across the goal-line for a touch- own, ~ ee And then—bedlam! : The Wrightmore students and adherents made a deafening din for five minutes at least and then became silent as Harry made ready to try for goal. , ‘ Presently he made the kick, and the ball sailed between the posts. = i pandemonium, rightmore now had six to Larchmount’s five. . “We've got the game in our pocket now, fel- lows,” said Westley, whose face was shining with, joy. “All we have to do is to hold ’em.” Eve: rightmore students, with exception of the Silkwell crowd, ws cheering. for Harry, the om the blue Halfback, but one | and eyes of Winnie that he got eld did him more made him a thousand times happier than all the g cheering of all the rest. Again’ they lined up and the game was re- newed. J : “ It was stubbornly contested until nearly the end of the half, and then suddenly from out the midst of the players, just as a scrimmage had begun, shot Harry, with the ball under his arm. “Another touchdown! Hurrah for Harry, the Halfback!” yelled Jimmy Opper, and the ery was takeneup by scores of throats. And the wonderful’ young halfback did make a touchdown, in spite of all the opposing players could do. And in the try for go e succeeded again, thus making the score Wrightmore twelve to Larchmount’s five. ; r The game was resumed and played to the end of the half without either side scoring again. Wrightmore had won—and all because of the wonderful work of Harry, the Halfback, who had indeed proven that he was entitled to be called “A footballist for fair.” “Well, Winslow, you undoubtedly won the egame,” said Westley, with a smile; “now go in and see if you can win that pair of eyes.” “Pm going to, Westley,” was the quiet reply. | “J don’t know whether I will succeed, but I going to do my best.” : “You have my best wishes, old fellow.” “Thank = x Harry, the Halfback, got another look from Winnie’s eyes. before he left the field, and he walked to the gymnasium in a daze of happiness. His-companions for the most part thought he was happy because -he’ had been instrumental in win- ning the football game, but Westley knew better. It was a happy day for all the Wrightmore | students and adherents save ~Silkwell and his crowd. ‘They were disappointed and angry, and Silkwell hitiself was wild with rage, for not only had his revenge missed fire, but he had lost two hundred dollars as’ well. “Tll get him yet. I hate him,” thought he between his clenched teeth. “T’ll fix it with Mr.| Harry, the Halfback, and soon at that, or I’ll know the reason why! I'll drive him away from Wrightmore or die trying! I hate him!” (To be continued.) ~ am I hate him—oh, how ©
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* oe vied : . Fame and Fortune Weekly’”’ | -NEW YORK, DECEMBER 18, 1925 _ - TERMS TQ SUBSCRIBERS — Bilgle ASOTHOG aso deh ce hes whee wacom Postage Free Scents _Dne Copy Three Months........ o i 1.00 One Copy Six Months.. % “ 2.00 One Copy One Year............. # be Canada, $4.50; Foreign, $5.00. J HOW TO SEND MONEY—At our risk “send P. O. Gs ose Order, Check or Registered Letter; remittances n any other way are at your risk. We cae Postage Stamps the same as cash. When sending silver wrap he Coin in a separate piece of paper to avoid cutting % e envelope. rite your name and address plainly. Adress letters to ~ - HARRY E. WOLFF, Harry E, Wolff,@res. xe Chgries EK. Nylander, Sec, - “Publisher, Inc., L. . Wilzin, Treas. 166 W. 23d St., N. Y. ITEMS OF INTEREST rhea LOS ANGELES MEXICANS ~« ? - ‘The Mexican population of Los Angeles is said to be the largest éf any city in the world except the City of Mexico. , ee , | *. PLATINUM IN SIBERIA ay Near the mouth of the great Yenisei River of Siberia, which flows north into the Arctic Ocean, _ ‘what are said to be “magnificent deposits” 0. . ~ platinum have lately been discovered. Active pros- * pecting now under way near the Polar Circle, it js added, is likely to reveal further deposits. of _ the metal, = Ree ee is 2 RENTING HALTS aa There is a hat shop just off Fifth Avenue, New --'York,.that does a thriving business in the renting of fashionable hats. Women visitors in town for _ few days pay a small sum to wear a hat from this shop to the theater or a dinner. . CHAIN OF SANDWICH STANDS RUN ON : HONOR SYSTEM “A eollege student living in the San Fernando “Malley, Cal., has established a ehain of sandwich -.- -gtands to be placed at leading road intersections, * to be run on the hon m system. Nobody will be "$n charge of the stands. Tourists passing by will | gtop, read the price sign, pick up the sandwich - gnd drop the money in @ box. The promoter fif-e ‘ures a few losses from dishonest patrons, but - this, he asserts, will be more than offset by the absence of overhead cost of operation. From day- light to dark he plans to travel, replenishing ‘honor stands as fast as tourists eat up the supply. -* -- RECONSTRUCTING TAIL OF HUGE Fase t «DINOSAUR - ie - Prof. Charles Gilmore, curator of the National Museum, Washington, D. C., is reconstructing the = thirty-foot tail of a huge dinosaur discovered by him in Utah. The length of the complete animal was 80 feet, and the number of vertebrae in the iad tail alone is 82—just one less than man has in : his whole spinal solumn. This job of reconstruc- tion is so complicated that Prof. Gilmore does not expect to finish it before some time in 1927. Tears Getter eee ¥ sea ‘ f matter sacar Caen ® Be ough 7s ‘FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY a - , OIL-ELECTRIC CAR SETS -5,500-MILE : RECORD as When D. Crombie, chief of transportation. of ~~ the Canadian National Railways, reached Mon- ®@ trea] recently he completed a round trip overland . by rail between Montreal and Kemloops, B. C., in five days, twenty-two and a half hours, It was the fastest overland railroad journey of 5,500 miles ever made. Aes Mr. Crombie made the trip in a newly devel- oped oil-electric car. He said: : : “The report of that test makes it evident that by working along present lines we can Solve, through the oil-electric car, not only interurban and branch-line traffic difficulties, but can revo- lutionize transcontinental traffic as well. “The results of this. test trip make it evident a single locomotive of this: type could handle .. passenger trains clear across the continent with- out being «relieved. Conceivably it could start with a sufficient supply of fuel to make the en- tire trip. It would result in fewer locomotives being’ required*for-a given train service and entre delays, in changing engines at termi- nals. “ < Benevolent Party—If I gave you five pennies and your little brother asked you for two of — them, how many would you have? Enter-- .~ prising Newsboy—Five. Nell—So she’s fallen in love with, young Rox- ley. Belle—You don’t say? Nell—Why, surely: ~ you heard about it? Belle—No; I merely heard she was going to marry him. _ Hahoole—Nixttoime Oi pass wid a loidy, Mul- ligan, ye’ve got to remove yer hat! Mulligan— And suppose Oj refuse? Hahoole—Then, bedad, ye’ve got to remove yer coat: ‘ “Do you-suppose any one will ever invent : perpetual motion machine?” “It’s been done aie ei ago. I'll bet dollars to doughnuts there’s one of ’em attached to my gas meter,” pre Rae Ste Seen Teddy—I wish I hadn’t licked Jimmy Brown - this morning. Mamma—Yow see how wrong it - was, don’t you, dear? Teddy—Yes; ’cause I didn’t. _ know till.noon that he was going to give a party. _ aut x ~ Sims—While in Paris I paid five dollars in tips alone. “Waiter (assistaing him on with his coat) — —You must have lived there a good many years, sirl ~ “Moving Picture Stories” —_- A Weekly Magazine Devoted to Photoplays and Players _ PRICE TEN CENTS PER COPY ~~ — Se Hach number contains Three Stories of the Best ¥ilmg a on the Screen—Hlegant Half-tone Scenes from the zee a eee “—Interesting Articles About Prominent People in Films—Doings of Actors and Actresses. in the Studio ~~ and Lessons in Scenario Writing. ae pee ’ HARRY E. WOLFF, Publisher, Inc. ~ 166 West 23d Street : New York City
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fie FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY % é CURRENT NEWS FISHING AND TRAPPING Approximately. 270,000 hunting and trapping licenses are issuéd to sportsmen and trappers in New York State annually. In addition, it is esti- mated that about 200,000 other individuals. engage in angling and netting fish 7 BUSINESS DOG = * Roy, the best-known dog in London, is going out of business owing to old age. He is a collie- Newfoundland who walks around Euston railroad - station with a money box on his neck, and in »seyen years he has collected more than $15,000, méttly in pennies, for a railroad charity. All the . regular passengers know him, and he knows the ‘ guage.” . ta) i] Re Natural History “by Roy. “main Bine departures liké- a timetable. ILLITERATE IN BROOKLYN The percentage of illiterate men in Brooklyn, N. Y., is higher than the percentage of illiterate ‘women, accordjng to statistics offered by dag Caccavajo, statistical expert, published by the Brooklyn Chamber of Commerce. - One out of every sixteen men in ‘Brooklyn ean neither read nor write, and one in every ten or éleven women can neither read nor write, the article says, and these men and women are with- out even the rudiments of an education. The actual number of illiterate persons ten years of age and over is 98,038.. The number of foreign-- born white persons in Brooklyn unable to speak , En ees 71,835, of whom 29,463 are males and 41,872 are females. : : There are nearly 160,000 persons ten years of e and over “who are éntirely devoid of any ~ kind of an education, and in our midst there are more than 70,000 who cannot speak our lan- SKULLS AND 40 DINOSAUR EGGS FOUND IN GOBI Penetration of Mongolia by American motor car was described at th merican Museum of apman Andrews, who _ returned from his third expedition into the Gobi Desert with forty dinosaur eggs, the skulls of six new types of mammals and the tools of stone age _ people who lived in the heart of the desert. Mr. Andrews said the skulls are valued at Tae and the dinosaur eggs at $200,000. ‘hey will be placed on exhibition at the Museum, The scientists, headed by Mr. Andrews, trav- - ersed the Gobi Desert in touring cars and motor i E = 4 a4 * million years ago, and trucks. Mr. Andrews said the stone age people had used square bits of the shells of the dinosaur eges for necklaces. He found, Mr, Andrews said, Dae Mongolian woman who had made bits of jewel- “ry with the shells of the eggs. "She exchanged a fragment of a shell for half ®p cake of soap, the scientist related. The six ‘airfield Osborne, President of the museum, are we the age of reptileg,.from twelve to fourteen age extremely rare. Sain < = ® inch of. the vast territo mammalian skulls, according to ‘Prof. Henry ’ i < MAMMOTH MAP OF UNITED STATES The recent passage of a bill by Congress en- ables the government to carry to completion the largest and most comprehensive map of the United States—a great mother map that will rep- resent, when completed, twenty years from, now, an accurate topographical survey of every square that comprises the United States, writes Floyd Montgomery in “Pop- ular Science Monthly.” bee This great map—the largest in the world— - will not be in one piece, but will be composed of 6,000 sections, which, if placed together in one big pattern, would cover. more than an acre of ground. So complete in detail will it be that any- body, living in any section of the country, will be able to find on the proper sheet the exact location of his house. Delicate contour lines will draw the picture of the country’s hills and valleys, plains and moun- tain ranges, canyons and waterways, including even its man-built landmarks. Using the map for reference, the route of a proposed ‘project may be laid out without the engineer being on the ground. The only, surveying necessary will be the actual job on hand. s What'a treasure chart for the engineer who, seeking lines and*levels for proposed penetration in unmapped areas, now must spend valuable time and often great sums of money for intricate _ surveying! : : : * Work Dees on the survey for the map in 1879 | and has progressed slowly, held back by lack of appropriations. Now, however, Congress has au- thorized the ena of the work and pd popes of .$950,000 for the survey in the | st year. The total expenditure, with state cooptration, - is placed at $49,200,000. i Sat oes science a. Se fs 7 com- ~ eting the map. Aerial photography plays an Ennertant part. The plane, carrying a photog- raphér equippé@ with a panoramic camera, flies - at an elevation of about 520 feet and the pic- tutes taken often enough ‘bo that they over- . lap. While the developing and photo-lithograph- ing are in progress, control men make a ya definite locations of known points, which are marked accurately on tracing linen and the work of fitting the aerial photographs hegins. The use of the airplane is ingsharp contrast with the earlier days of the survey, when trans- __ portation and virgin country coniplicated the field workers’ program of activity.’ Hostile Indians, too, were a-cause for concern and very often sur- veying parties were escorted by detachments of United States soldiers as protection against pos- sible attack. panes _ The survey is a history in itself. Every line, — on the map will reveal much of romance and ad-— venture for those who have had part in its mak- ing. . ; It is a tremendous undertaking. Yet when the - last square inch of our vast pees has been © surveyed there will have been completed a treas= ure chart of priceless value. ea a oe
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= : bd 98 oe FROM ALL POINTS QUAINT DRY LAWS -In Constantinople the consumption of alcohol is rigorously forbidden in certain streets, but it is tolerated in others: There are wet streets and : dry streets. The administration, which tries to , think of everything, has designated as wet streets those near a police station. ‘ ‘ oe @ENGINES FED WITH PORK ES The-accident of fuel failure, suggested as pos- sibly overtaking Polar flights, evoked a desperate “remedy when ‘Lieut. de Long, in a ship’s steam pinnace, was engaged in his daring search in the Arctic for the American Polaris expedition. “Heavy seas put out the ship’s furnace and had to be dried by being kept in contact with the skin. With these, damp shavings, soaked in _ oil to render them combustible, were ignited and $ thereafter the furnace was started and the coal ‘dried out by using as fuel the ship’s, supplies of pork. : ; 4 “NEEDLE’S EYE” A GATE The ‘“needle’s eye” referred to in the New . Testament is a.small gate in the Wall of Jeru- palem, nota sewing needle, in*the opinion of Job as ied twenty-three-year-old Arab guide in the - Holy Land, who is studying music at the Pitts- - burg State Teachers College, Kansas. ~The Bibical passage to which this modern Job _ has udduced a new meaning is in Mark 10-25, - wherein Jesus chided those who “trust in riches,” " ‘gaying: “It ig easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” — ; “The needle’s eye,” says Negeim, “commonly -. misunderstood as the eye of a sewing needle, is known to Jerusalem as a small gate within a. It is for the use. ~. larger gate’ in the city walls. ‘of pedestrians after the larger gate is closed for the night for protection. The gate is so low that an average-sized man must stoop low to go _. through it.” : e NOTED PEANUT AUTHORITY HAD pea PICTURESQUE LIFE |. '» Dr. George W. Carver, head of the research . department of Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute’ of Alabama, is as picturesque as his --eareer. About six feet tall he resembles more the _ typical Southern Negro of half a century ago than the much sought-after lecturer and honored scientist of the day. ee _. Up to the time Dr. Carver was nineteen years old he rode on a half fare ticket on the railroads, his growth having been retarded from the time “he was five. When he was nineteen years old he - gtarted to grow in a most alarming manner, and . 4n one year he had attained his present height. - “ Success; or, Doing at e et Out to Do 1256 ‘ Setback; or, Defeated But Not Pitechene. _ = 1257 ** in Toryville; or, “Wick Slater’s Fearful Risk. us 1258 “ Arolsed; or, Striking Strong Blows for Liberty. 3 1259“ Trimfph; or, Bedting the Redcoats at Th — , Own Game, ee { . ‘ <n 1260 * ‘Scare; or,.A Miss as Good as a Mile, - AGA 5 Fe pa or, Foes On All Sides. Z 1262 “ Flight; or, A Very Narrow Hscape. : 1268 “* Strategy; or, Outgeneraling the Mnemy. 1264 “ Wee ore: or, Showing the Redcoats How to 4 1, lo « i . 1265 “ Push; or, Bound to Get There. ae 1266 “ Desparate Charge; or, With “Mad Anthony” at Stony Point. : f eS 1267 “ Justice, and How They Dealt It Out. ie “ Bombarded; or, A Yor. Warm Time, 2% 12 “ Sealed Orders; or, Going It Blind. 1270“. Going Z¢ Blind; or, Taking Big Chances. — . 1271 ‘” Braye Stand; or, Set Back But Not Defeated. 4272 “ Daring; or, Not Afraid of Anything. * +5 1273 “ Big Risk; or,. Ready to Take a Chance. ~ 3 Any of the above numbers will be mailed to you postage free, upon receipt of the price in money, of * postage stamps. : eda paste te | HARRY E. WOLFF, PUBLISHER, INC, — 166 West 23rd Street, (+ New Xorke Noe
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| FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY DIG UP MASTODON TUSK . Working under the direction of an expert from ‘the American Museum of Natural History, labor- ers have uncovered the tusk of the huge mastodon _ discovered recently near Monroe, N. Y. The tusk measured more than four feet in length and aS Bt oe eight inches in diameter at the large end. » : It is believed one-half of the tusk has disin- © tegrated as the diameter indicates it was nearly nine feet long. 4 4 OVERCOAT STOLEN 11 TIMES IN A DAY Sun kissed Los Angeles was a bit chilly,. at least it must have séemed that way to some, or ~ Polieeman Charles E. Dill could not have arrested eleven men for stealing his one oyercoat. Dill left the overcoat in a parked car, and every time an ~ overcoat’ thief rose to the bait ‘he made an arrest. By the time eleven suspects had been removed to- ‘the city jail, Dill donned the warmth giving gar- “ment himself andgcalled ita day, a chilly day. % “HOME, SWEET HOME.” eee “Home, Sweet Home,” was first sung in public on May 8, 1828, at the Covent Garden Theater in London. John Howard Payne (1792-1852) wrote ~ the song as part of the book of an opera cdlled . E “Clari, the Maid of Milan.” Henry Rowley Bishop, the English composer, set the words to music. It jg said that “Home, Sweet Home” can be sung ‘without the aid of written words or music by a larger number of people than any other song in the world. John Howard Payne was born in New York on June 9, 1791. When a boy of 12 he -. edited-a little weekly paper for children which he called “The Fly.” He early wrote acceptable - poetry, studied elocution and became a success- ful actor and playwright. He was the first Ameri- ean actor to appear _on-the boards in Great Brit- ain. From 1842 to 1845 and again from 1851 until S his death in 1852 he was U.S: Consul: at Tunis, Africa. In 4883 his body was removed from Tunis ‘to Washington, LC; 2 GIGANTIC PEACH TREES ~ «Peach trees that grow fifty feet high have “been found wild in China. Buds of these for prop- “‘ agation have just been received by the horticul- tural division of the New Jersey Agricultural - Experiment Station at New Brunswick. These ‘were included in a consignment of twenty-two hew types, varieties and species of peaches» from the foreign seed and plant introduction bureau ‘of _ the United States Department of Agriculture. In 1922 a plant explorer in China reported that he had discovered the Puerhfu, a peach tree, fifty _. feet in height, growing wild in the mountains at an altitude of 5,500 feet; also another tree with _ fruit of a different character growing to a height ~. ef about forty to fifty feet. The horticultural vision has been trying since that time to secure buds from the United States Department of Agri- ture in order to test these trees in New Jersey. - The peach is an exceedingly fast growing tree and if these immigrants grow as large in America SOR aay, BRIEF BUT POINTED — 3 2G temperature apparently determines the extent of ‘the missionary, if he is _ ton and settles disputes. as they do in China they “may be more adapted to the forestry industry than to peach growing. Nevertheless, it is thought that they may possibly have valuable qualities for breeding work, which is Now being so extensively carried. on at the experiment station. a HUMIDITY TESTS ‘That the human body, ina state of rest and in still air, cannot endure indefinitely a temperature higher than: 90 degrees Fahrenheit with 100 per - cent. rélative humidity, has been determined by \. © Department of the Interior investigators at the Pittsburgh experiment station of the Bureau of Mines, co-operating with American Society of Heating and Ventilating Engineers. In.the course of the tests it was noted that the heavier and stouter men of the experiments, when subjected to uncomfortably hot temperatures, lost more weight than the lighter and thinner men, - but as‘a rule could endure such temperatures for — a longer period and complained less of the ex= haustion which followed. Loss of weight in the Subjects experimented with gradually increased with an increase in atmospheric temperature. When the subject drank ice water he imme- ~ diately gained in weight and in all cases the sud- - ject within twenty-four hours usually regained the entire weight lost. Subjects ‘who drank ic« water freely after exposure to high temperature felt no ill effects, tending to disprove the as-~ ‘sumption that such action develops severe cramps. © ye The pulse rate rather than the rise in bodily the discomfort ‘experienced by the subject. , A LONELY ISLAND INDEED. The loneliest island in the world is said to be ~~ ‘Tristan da Cunha, which is situated in the South Atlanti¢, nearly midway between Cape Town and Buenos Aires. “This island, a speck %n the ocean possessing an area of only 18 square miles, is inhabited by a Crusoe colony.. The nearest in- habited island- is Napoleon’s isle of St. Helena. ~ The soil’ is covered with lava, stone, ashes and: —. scattered rocks rent into huge fissures. Ships ~ visit Tristan at varying intervals, sometimes two. years passing without a sail or other ship or @ ~ word from the outside world reaching this strange : colony of about 100 souls. The people are of different nationalities, but the vogue jis English, — as these tiny islands are under the British flag. _ The occupations of*the Tristanites are fishing and. farming, both in=a rough sort of way; for fish, though plentiful, are coarse and oily; the live stock runs small and poor. Tristan has a history running back to its discovery by the Portuguese — in®1596, but no one lived upon it until there came a pirate named Lambert and two companions. Lambert was probably murdered by his compan-— ions, but his treasure in Spanish doubloons is still hidden in the island, it is said, between two water-— falls. There is no government ‘on Tristan. Everye man does that which is right in his own*eyes, and resident, acts as‘arbitra- | a
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<, a A ~ E Advertising Offices, 580 Broadway, New York City, or 29 East Madison Street, Chicago, for partioulars about advertising in \ |" BRE. YOU LONESOME? Write Bett: Write to Riker & King AGENTS WANTED IF YOU WANT $96 A WEEK, a permanent business, an honest company, and an Essex coach, without a cent of expense, write now. I need 100 men and women quick to_take orders for Jennings hosiery. Don’t delay. eas postcard now for details. The Frank . Jennings Co., Dept. L-224, Dayton, Ohio. $150.00 TO .00 WEEKLY selling Start Rite Switch for Fords. To start car just retard spark lever; saves bendix and s' rouble; secure demonstrator; write toda ‘or plan and proof of} $1,810.00 ee rofi ept. 1115, National Sales Co., Inc.,Coin, Iowa, AGENTS: NO COMPETITION selling 8 a body ‘8. $10.00-- $25.00 daily easy. True pote, ay Os OWI? 1598 W. Adams SE, Re RCAmOy, Nib sate Pay eS Chicago, Ill, AGENTS—WRITE FOR FREE SAMPLES. Sell Madison ‘“Better-Made” shirts for large Manufacturer, direct to wearer. No capital, or experience required. Many earn _ $100 weekly and bonus. Madison Mfgrs., 503 Broadway, New York. ; F- RRSRIS TL aR CRN a IS eee ome NEW CAMERA takes and finishes photos ' {n one minute. Make money selling cam- eras, or taking photos. Exclusive territory. Crown Co., Devt. 967, Norwalk, Conn. “ HELP WANTED - DETECTIVES rfteded- everywhere. Big & Pay, S, cxperience unnecessary, easily learn i 0 45, write Barl Wilcox, 1407 Lafayette Ave, i, Grand Rapids, Mich. VETECTIVES NEEDED EVERYWHERE. _\ Works home oe ere experience unneces- sary. Write oege R. agner, ‘former Govt. Detective, 1 Broadway, N. Y. PERSONAL y Les, Inc., Box 820 City Hall Station, New York City. Stamp_ appreciated. , LONELY HEARTS—I have a sweetheart for you. Exchange letters: intake new friends, fficient, confidential and dignified service. “Members everywhere. Hyva Moore, Box 908, acksonville, Wlorida. “MARS IMPORTS SNAKES AND DITMARS SERUM. Bact L. Ditmars, curator of rep- ae and. mammals for the New York: *Poological Park, returned recently on the ‘Munson lines Southern Cross, bring- Ing a powerful new serum for the treat- ment of rattlesnake poisoning and sev- wral species of Brazilian snakes never yefore seen in this country. The serum is the first cancentrated rum made at the Sao Paulo Institute n Brazil for the treatment of bites of lmerican rattlers. It is made from *renom collected here and sent to the in- ititute a year ago. . _ Mr. D: 8 had taken with him on vio aH . x : Py ¥ x % » WOMAN NEAR DEATH BY STINGS OF BEES. this magazine | Mrs; J. P. Ellis, MARRIAGE PAPER—20th year. Big issye| Der son, Cokely, with descriptions, photos, names and ad: A. C. Harrison Tage cents. No other fee. Sent sealed.|and William Foy - x Bm, Boston, Mase: have just had the MARRY Free photographs, directory and closest brush: with escriptions 0: wear yY members. when married. New Plan Co., ‘Dept. 56, ia po an Kansas City, Mo. : Hana and live 46 tell about it. Mrs. Ellis, who MARRY—MARRIAGE DIRKoToRY win|! ives on_ the pkotos and descriptions free. i eg Te The Exchange, Dept. 545, Kansas we: : ; Ky., climbed into MARRY—Write for big new directory with|4 peach tree to photos and descriptions. Froe. National | gather fruit. She Fhe A Dept. A, 4006, Sta. H.. Kansatijocst her balance LR nde and fell into a PRETTY GIRLIE, wealthy, but oh so lone- some.s League, Box 39, Oxford, Fla. - near Calhoun, GET A SWEETHPART. Pxchance letters.|2roup of bee- rite me enclosing stamp. Violet Ray,|hives. 'The bees Dennison, Ohio. . _|swarmed out and MARRY—Tonely Hearts, join our club, wo|in a minute’ cov- have a companion for you, many worth|ered her _ body. m $5,000 to $50,000. Descriptions, photos, v ntroductions. free. Send no money. Stand- er right arm and collarbone were broken in the fall, and she was so badly in- jured* that she ard Cor. Club, Grayslake, Ill. PRETTY GIRLIE, wealthy, but oh so fone- some, League, Box 39, Oxford, Fla. SWEETHEARTS for everybody. Stamped envelopes for proposal. The Lily Club, could not move.. Station H, Cleveland, Ohio. For half an hour the woman OHARMING YOUNG WIDOW worth §$38- jw as helpless, whnite jonely. will marry. (Hva) B-1022, while the bees swarmed upon ra. SONGWRITERS her body. Mr. ND TODAY for free copy Writer's Di- | Harri r- sas Saat “poeta ate AR | chant, and Cokely 5 » poems, songs. s Digest, 6-22, B. 12th st. Cincinnadl "IE11lis finally noticed her plight and ran to her of the | aid, f MISCELLANEOUS FOR A DIME (coin) I will tell the week for any date for the last G. H. Hayes, Box 157, Newberry, TOBACCO OR SNUFF HABIT OURED OR no pay. $1.50 if cured. Remedy sent on trial. Superba Co., N4, Baltimore, Maryland. on Mr. Foy, who joined them in trying to yescue Mrs. * Ellis. ©The bees promptly at-_ Pay when| Livermore Road, | da: «fog years ’ The men called | n tacked the men — his last previous trip one fluid gallon|and stung each of of rattlesnake poison, collected from|them hundreds of 5,000 snakes, This, he said, would en-|times as they car- able the institute at Sao Paulo to man-jried Mrs. Ellis ufacture serum to combat the bites of|from the yard. American rattlers for thirty years. First-aid treat- In the hold of the ship, contained ii;/ment was pro- boxes, were thirty-five venomous snakes | vided for the four that will be added to the Bronx Zoo.|persons, who Among them were two specimens never|have great swell- seen, alive. in the United States, the|ings over their urutu, a black snake with a series of|bodies. Two phy- oval yellow markings, and the*jarara-|sicians attended cacu, 2 species somewhat like the Ameri-|Mrs. Ellis, and can copperhead, but larger. Also he had | after. treatment a harmless coral snaké, whose bands of |announced red, black and yellow, Mr. Ditmars|belief that said. made it look like a collede necktie.would recover. : ' “paetee ae te ue their she, E :
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EVERY DROP OF WATER IN PARIS MUST BE PAID FOR The price of wa- ter has just gone up again in Paris —in common with the price. of gas, electricity and bus rides. The reason is that the municipal income of Paris is not equal. to its ex- penditure. All. apartment buildings and dwellings in Paris that have water have meters. The meter records every drop of wa- . ter sup Ved, and . every drop must be paid for. The origin of this excessive caution in the use of water was the pressing danger, now almost-en- tirely eliminated, of the Paris sup- ply running dry In time not only fo ae . that of.severe, but even of thé most irifline drought. In this _connec- - tion it is interest- ing to read in a column reprint of ‘one of the Paris dailies, taken from its own pages of 100 years ago, that the Seine water was low, muddy and smelly in - July, 1825. The editor of those days added to information a severe criticism of the City Ad-- _ ministration for. “lack of consider- ation of the Pp b- lic health,” in that the citizens - ‘were still allowed ~ to come down t6, the river and fill receptacles with the fetid water -for drinking pur- poses. religious data discovered, _ [ast Chane el Being oF tans a A wonderful value, a 32 cal- ibre automatic for only $8. Limited sup ly — rush your order today. $25 cal. Army Automatic 30 Swing cylinder hand ejector 82-20 © 88 cal. Break-Open Revolv- er, 32 or 38 cal ... 2.45 OMY may $7:75 | - hg SEND NO MONEY or more is sent with order. FREE! A fountain Pen 7S | te * if deposit of $1 / . | | ; S% Pay on arrival. you're not absolu y> fied. ostman plus penne ack if Mone tely satis- REPUBLIC TRADING CO. Dept. .TUT-ANKH-AMEN’S 13 FIN- GER RINGS The preliminary examination of the mummy of Tut-ankh- Amen bears witness to the great refinement of the goldsmith’s art of the eighteenth dynasty. Among the most important ob- jects-found at the unwrapping lately were thirteen finger rings|. in two clusters and twenty cir- clets. Y The whole chest’ was covered with magnificently enerusted gold pectorals, two of which were in the form of the upper Egyptian vulture Nehkbet and the lower. Egyptian serpent Buto. Beneath these were smaller, but even More beautiful, pectorals, intri- cately designed, including winged searabs and sacred eyes. There was also a mervelous flying vulture, exemplifying the finest goldsmith’s art.“ This was encrusted with lapis lazuli and carnélian, and resembles jewelry of the middle empire in its re- finements. The body of the Pharaoh jis in a bad state of preservation, but it is hoped that the head, from which thé pretective mask has not been removed, will prove to be in better condition. Doctors who have made an examination maintain that the King was about eighteen years of age at the time of his death. ; , ‘Besides. the precious stones and jewelry, the investigators are gratified at the amount of 909, 25 W. Broadway New York 14-Kt. white gold filled wrist watches or beautiful men’s watches, Dinner Sets, Cam- ‘ eras, Bags, Silverware with- . out a penny’s. cost to you. : for devoting a few hours of your spare time in selling our elicious high-grade candy to your friends and acquaintances. Write today for our FR BD Premium Book~ giving full information how. you can Fe secure one of these fine gifts. | REPUBLIC TRADING 00. i 25 W. B’ way? New York,N.Y. Dept. 307 7 Old Money Wanted | Will pay $100 for 1894 Dime, S$. Mint. 10.00 for 1913 Liberty Head Nickel (iat Biteloy. : Big premiums paid for all rare coins. Send 4c for Large Coin Folder. May mean much aos to you. | . aad UMISMATIO CO.. Dept. 486 Ft. Worth, Tex.
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-magical illusions as pee tonmee uu * thon are fully explained b EXPLAIN - pook gives the explanation to OUR TEN-CENT HAND BOOKS Useful, Instructive, and Amusing. They contain Valuable Information on Almost Every Subject. . 8 ORACULUM AND DREAM @ great oracle of human destiny; kind of dreams, curious games of No... NOPOLEO: BOOK.—Containing oo the true meaning of almost an gether with charms, ceremonies an cards. - N.2% HOW TO DO TRICKS.— The great book of magic and card tricks, containing full instructions on all leading card tricks of the day, also the most popular by our ra magi- clans; every boy should obtain a copy of this book. N. 3. HOW TO FLIRT.—The arts and wiles of flirta- this little book. Besides the love, parasol, 1 thods of handkerchief, fan, various me r] c AT tisk of the ndow and hat flirtation. it contains a nguage and sentiment of flowers. “ N. 4 HOW TO DANOE is the title of this little book. contains full instructions in the art of dancing, eti- net in the ballroom and at parties, how to dress, and 1] directions for calling off in all popular square dances. MAKE LOVE.—A complete guide to Nos 5. HOW TO giving sensible advice, love, courtship and marriage, rules and etiquette to be observed, and interesting things not generally known. No. 6. HOW TO BECOME AN ATHLETE.—Giving ' full instructions for the use of dumbells, Indian clubs, rallel bars, horizontal bars and various other methods developing a healthy muscle; containing over ty illustrations. ‘ No. 7. HOW TO KEEP Sidne a, ilius- trated an d containing full instructions for the manage- ent an dtraining of the canary, mockingbird, bobolink, Piackbird, paroquet, parrot, etc. VENTRILOQUIST.— No. 9. HOW TO BECOME A y Harry Kennedy. Every in gent boy reading this ok of instructions can mas e art, And create any amount of fun for himself and friends. It is the great- est book ever published. . = . 10. eHOW TO BOX.—The art o: f-defense made es Containin over thirty illustrations of guards, oe aula of eful and instructive oks, as it will teach you to box without an instructor. N. 1. HOW TO WRITE LOVE-LETTERS.—A most mplete little book, containing full directions for writ- fag love-tettors, erent positions of a good boxer. Hvery y should obtain one of these us and when to use them, giving specimen rs for young and old. e No. 8. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO LADIES. lete instructions for writing letters to ladieg ae pubiects ; also letters of intreaustion. notes and No. 18. HOW TO DO IT: or, BOOK of ETIQUETTE. —It is a great life secret, and one that every young man desires to know about. There's appt pens in it. No. 14. HOW 79 MAKE CANDY. book for making all kinds of candy, ice-cream, syrups, g@ssences, etc. ~ . No. 18. HOW TO BECOME BEAUTIFUL.—One of fhe brightest and most valuable little books ever given to the world. Wverybody wishes té know how to become beau- tiful, both male and female. The secret is simple and almost costless. N. 20. HOW TO ENTERTAIN A EVENING PARTY.—A most complete compendium ef games, sports, rd diversions, comic recitations, etc., suitable for par- ior or drawing-room entertainment. It contains more t the money than any book published. .-—This little DREAMS. =%, all kinds of dreams, to- ' on al " pequests. No. 28. HOW gether with lucky and unlucky days, No. 24. HOW TO WRITE LETTERS TO GENTLE- N.—Containing full directions for writing to gentle- ati on all subjects. : No. 25. HOW TO BECOME A GYMNAST.—Contain- full directions for all kinds of eyateastie sports and thietic earcises. Hmbracing thirty-five illustrations. By rofessor W. Macdonald. For sale by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any address on receipt of price, 10c. per copy, in money or stamps, by HARRY E. WOLFF, Publisher, Inc. - New York City 166 West 23d Street i . ¥ . with many curious’ —A complete hand- : Fame and Fortune Weekly —— LATEST IssvUKS —— 1002 On Sip Wing; or, The Young Mercury of Wall 1004 J ugeling with the Market; or, The Boy Who Made It Pay. ‘1005 Cast Adrift; or, The Luck of a Homeless Boy. 1006 tel the Market: or, A Keen Boy in Wall reet. 1007 A Pot of Money; or, The Legac 1008 From Rags to Riches; or, A Messenger. 1009 On His Merits; or, The Smartest Boy Alive. 1010 Trapping the .Brokers; or, A Game Wall Street Boy. 1011 A Million in Gold: or, The Treasure of Santa Crus, 1012 Bound to Make Money; or, From the West to Wall Street. 1013 The Boy Magnate; or, Making Baseball Pay. 1014 Making Money: or, A Wall Street Messenger’s Luck, 1015 A’ Harvest of Gold; or, The Buried easure of Coral Island. 1016 On the Curb; or, Beating the Wall Street Brokers. 1017 A Freak of, Fortune; or, The Boy Who Struck Oil. 1018 ‘The Prince of Wall Street; or, A Big Deal for Big oney. - 1019 Startin fs pg Own Business; or, The Boy Who 1020 A Corner In Wall Street: or, The Wall Street Boy ‘Who Won. 2 1021 First in the Field; or, Doing Business for Himself, 1022 A Broker at Highteen; or, Roy Gilbert’s Wall Street Career. 1023 Only a Dollar; or, From Errand Boy to Owner. 1024 Price & Co., Boy Brokers; or, The Young Traders oka Watts Sacer me mn pee ae Made nning Risk; or, @ Bo: 10 Go 1026 From a a to a Million; or, +4 Wide-Awake Wali ‘ Street Boy. } 1027 The Path to Good Luck; or, The Boy Miner of of 2 Lucky Boy, ucky Wall Street ; Death Valley. 1028 Mart Morton’s Money; or, A Corner in Wall Street Stocks, é 1029 Famous at Fourteen; or, The Boy Who Made a 1030 morn ert A Lucky Wall St: rips To Fortune; or, ucky Wa reet Deal. 1081 Striking His Gait; or, The Perils of a Boy Hin- gineer. 1032 From Messenger to Millionaire; or, A Boy’s Luck In Wall Street. 1083 The Boy. Gold Hunters; or, After A. Pirate's “Treasure. “ 1034 Tricking the Traders’; or, A Wall Street Boy’s . ame of Chance. : ‘ 1035 Jack Merry’s Grit; or, Making a Maw Of Himself, 1036 A Golden. Shower; or, The Boy Banker of Wall — reet. : 1037 Making a Record; or, The Luck of a Work ; 1038 A Hight For Money; éor, From School me Wali Street. 10389 pase thera West; or, The Boy’ Who Found a 1040 Ben Bassford's Luck; ‘or, Working on Wall Street 7 Ds. 1041 A pA Gold King; or, The Treasure of the Secret . 1042 Bound To Get Rich: or, How A Wall Street Boy Made Money, 1043 ¥riendless Frank; or, The Boy who Became ‘amous. 1044 A ig ada or, The Young Weasel of Wall tree 1045 Plucky Bob; or, The Boy Who Won 8 4 1046 From Newsboy to ee Sa or, Rob Lake's Rise in 1047 A Golden Stakes or, The T i en 8; OF, @ Lreasur 1048 A Grip On the Market; or, A Hot. fine Th an Street. 1049 Watching His Chance; or, From Ferry Boy to Cap- tain. 4 * 1050 A Game for Gold; or; The Young King of Wall ree 1051 A Wizard for Luck; or Getting Ah 1052 A Se at Stake; or, A Wall Bireck Mosworgany eal, 5 1053 His Last. Nickel; or, What It Did for Jack Rand, ‘1054 Nat Noble, the Little Broker; or, ‘The Bo Started a Wall Street Panic.’ ae For salé by all newsdealers, or will be sent to any ah address on receipt of price, 8c. per copy, —_’ . in money or stamps, by x HARRY K, WOLF, Publisher, Inc, 166 West 23d Street