(^O*- 0 ^ 0 **—<» X-1THE otfn AUTHOR. OF. TO CLIMAX." LAND o -me. A MUTE. CCWFCSSOR. i=TC ETC ETC, . 1597, sy WILL CHAPTER 1.-The body of T acob Uenton is found murdered on the lawn near bit* house. 11, 111 and IV—Minard HendricHa. a detective. take§ up the ease. He finds a notebook on the lawn belonging to Montcast.e. R revolver near the body, a partly burned match und footprints leading but a short distance _fr. m the body, where they suddenly end. V, VI and Vll-Hendrlcks Bend for a bloodtound. A clock whlct) itopped at 2:30 a.m. Indicates rhat Mont;astle left the house at thai rime, and his bed has not been slept in. Mi*s Benton IB Huipected. CHAPTEB VIII. Hendricks and Larnpkin had just left the presence of the two young ladies and were going toward the drawing room, where a constant stream of people was coming in and going out, when Hendricks nudged his friend in the side and looked up toward tho front staircase. .Ralph Benton was ascending, sliding his hand on the railing. "Going to his room," said Hendricks in a whisper. "He has heard of our being in his sister's apartment. We mast keep a peeled eye ou him. I haven't liked his looks since he swooned on me eo beautifully. He's got his sister's disposition to cover up tracks, and if I am not mistaken he is the more expert of the two. We'll loiter here a minute." "You were searching for powder marks on Miss Ben ton's wrist jnst now," remarked Lampkin, with a tone of conviction, as the detective paused and leaned against the wall. "Exactly. I wasn't trying to make a mash, you may bet your hat on that." "How did you know she hadn't washed her hands?" "I didn't think she had. People never do under great excitement. There was no water in her jug on the washstand or any in the slop jar. Besides, powder stains blown in the skin are hard to obliterate." "Did you find them?" "No." "Then she is innocent of the actual crime," "If she didn't wear gloves when she , pulled the trigper," interrupted Hendricks, with a little laugh. "Come on; time's np. Wo must surprise that fellow in his room." Hendricks bounded up the thickly carpeted stairs, taking four steps at a stride. Pausing at KiilphEeuton'sdoor, he grasped the knob firmly and turned it without making a sound. Then he pressed against the door steadily. "Locked," he grunted. The word had scarcely left his lips when his shoulder came against the door with the force of a battering ram. The frail fastenings gave way, and Hendricks almost fell into the room. Ralph was standing in a corner, holding an envelope over a low turned gas jet. "I beg pardon 1" exclaimed Hendricks. "An accident, I assure you. My foot slipped, and I tumbled against your door. I'm devilish awkward. Hope I haven't done innoh damage." "It's all right," stammered the young man. As he spoke the burning envelope went out, and the crisp black remains •were blown across the room. "I—I was jnst trying to clean up some old rubbish in my desk. I suppose you want to look about here. I really have no objection—anything that will fielp yon get at the facts. Of course the whole place is at your disposal." "Thank you," said Hendricks, stepping between him and the ashes of the envelope. "My friend and myself would like to use your desk. I see materials for writing are here—that is, if it is no intrusion.'' Ralph shrugged his shoulders. "You are quite welcome," he returned, with a defiant, dogged expre§- •iou. Heudricks sat down at the desk, picked np a pen and dipped it into tb.9 ink well. "Now, doctor," he began, "Thompson said he would take $4,000 for the corner lot, but would not giva me later than tomorrow to decide. Now, I intend to offer him"— Beudricks paused and glanced np at Kalph. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Benton, brat this is—er—a little private deal •we were about to make, and if you had just as soon"— "Oh, I'm going!" exclaimed Balpl, • smile and a sneer blending on his handsome face. "I am really sorry if I have intruded on you." Hendricks seemed to enjoy the situation. "Call again, Mr. Benton," he laughed. "Sorry we are busy today." "I like your cheek," remarked Dr. Lampkiu when the young man had left the room. "Sh!" The smile had left Hendricks' face. It was tense and serious. He rose softly, tiptoed to the door, opened it •lightly and looked out. "Can't be too cautions," he remarked as he leaned a chair against the door to keep it closed. "Yes, I admire my cheek," he went on as he came back to the doctor, "but I like his more. I tell you he's a corker." "I dropped on to your ruse to get him out of the room," said Lampkin. "I knew of no Thompson or any corner lot" "Better to do it decently," returned the detective. "Nev«r give'em a chance to be defiant and tell you to mind your own business. My idea is to keep on friendly terms with the whole lot It WM that fragment I was after." Hendricks pointed to the charred remains of th« envelope. "He was burning it as we came up stairs. I could smell it Eendncks took a sheet of writing paper from tho desk and slid it carefully under the frail, crisp fragment. "Don't dare to breathe on it," he cautioned as he carried it toward a window. ' 'It will go to pieces like a soap bubble. I was awfully afraid he'd get his foot on it and grind it into atoms." The detective raised the sheet of paper to his eyes and examined the burned envelope carefully, Lampkin heard him ejaculate something in a tone of disappointment. "Empty and blank at that!" he muttered. "What could the fellow mean by destroying it?" asked Dr. Lampkin. The brows of the detective met. He looked about the room, sniffed the air and pointed to a stream of smoke issuing from the room through a crack beneath a window sash. "He has burned more paper than that," he remarked. "He was all fired quick about it. We did not burst in on him soon enough." AH Hendricks spoke he began to thoroughly search the room. "Ah, running water!" he exclaimed, going to the hot and cold water basin in a little alcove adjoining the room and looking into it. "Got a match, doctor? It's dark here." Lampkin struck one and gave it to him. Hendrioks held it in the basin and carefully examined the porcelain surface. Suddenly he raised himself. '' Never saw bis beat,'' he said. '' The young rascal has absolutely washed the remains of a burned paper into the city sewer. He is now laughing in his sleeve at my maneuvering to get possession of that blank envelope. That's the second time he has done me. I'll keep the count." "I don't quite like his looks," remarked the doctor. "It seems to me he is trying to cover np something," Hendricks said nothing, but taking tho charred envelops from the desk he laid it exactly ou the spot where it had blown from Ralph's hand. "What's that for?" asked Lampkin. "It can't aid me to keep it, and when he comes back here and finds it still there he will be thrown off the track. Now we must take a peep at the young fellow's belongings, I don't think he was undressed last night— that is, I am pretty sure he did not take off his shirt and necktie." "Why?" "Because a young man of his taste would never wear a black dress bow, such as he has on now, with a business suit of clothes." "Yon think, then, that he was in evening dress last night?" asked Dr. Lampkin. Heuclricks opened a closet. "See all those coats neatly hung on coat stretchers back there?" he asked. Lampkin nodded. "That shows the young man is orderly by habit," went on the detective, "Well, here hangs his evening suit. It has simply been jerked on to the hook. You know a man is more particular about his evening suit than any other. There is little doubt that Ralph Benton took off these garments in a rush last night." Hendricks carried the coat, vest and trousers to one of the windows and examined them closely in the light. Lampkin saw him holding up first one article and then another, with a perplexed look on his face." '"What's up?" asked the doctor, approaching him. "I can't account for the presence of these fragments of tow," answered Eendricks. "I find them on the lapels of the coat, on the front part of the vest and absolutely rubbed into the cloth on the inside of the trousers legs. See!" he exclaimed. "The silk has been worn off one of the vest buttons." "That's strange," said Lampkin. "I should think so," answered Hendricks, "How in thunder could a man get a suit of clothes in exactly that condition?" "Might hare been drunk," suggested the doctor. "That would not account for a direct line of tow fragments from his ankles to his neck," said Hendricks. "If it were covered all over, it would be dif-' ferent, but"— Hendricks turned and ,00 -vnr^^^atf. .t -pjkv^wat*&*••••<•<< n a through the crack of the door. That's Benton, •why 1 bf oke ifl w suddenly." than"-l He examined the burned enrdope carefully. hang up the garments as he had found them. "It's chaos, my friend," he said. "Never \vw a matter in « more i nebulous condition. First it's Jlisa Montcastle, then Ralph, Lampkin, seeing that stopped for lack of "Me?" jested Hendricks bad words. "Yes, yon, blast your ugly picture!" retorted the detective, with a merry laugh. "You did it in your sleep after swimming the river in your nightshirt, holding your revolver over your head to keep it d'ry. Then you swam back, got into bed, and I waked you." "Yon never play the clown except when you are thwarted, and you rarely prajihe clown," said Lampkin. "Implied compliment—see?" "Epigram. You shall write them for my play," said Hendricks. "You have forgotten more bright things than I know," said Lampkin. "You'd know more if you'd forgotten fewer of your witticisms. How's that for a roundabout compliment? I believe I shall write my epigrams myself." Some one rapped on the door. Hendricks opened it. It was Jane, the housemaid. "A man with a dog is down stairs, sir, to see you," she informed Heu- dricks. "All right. Tell him I'll be down at once," said the detective. "He got here quick enough," remarked Hendricks to the doctor as they started down the stairs. CHAPTER IX. As they descended the last flight they saw Johnson in the front yard, holding Nebo by a chain. Instead of going directly out to him the detective turned into tha library, where they found Miss Hastings and Miss Benton in conversation with a heavy set, gray haired man about 60 years of age. "Mr. Allen, Mr. Hendricks," said Miss Benton. "I don't believe yon have met." Hendricks gave his hand to Mr. Allen. "You live in the house, I believe, Mr. Allen," he remarked. "Yes," said Mr. Allen—"that is, I •was living here till quite recently."' "I didn't gee you at the inquest, I think." "No," stammered Allen. "I—I have just learned of the murder through a morning extra. It is a horrible affair." "I presume you were surprised to bear of such a thing happening to your partner," remarked Hendricks tentatively. The spot where Allen stood was rather dark owing to the window curtains being drawn, and Lampkin could not see tho old man's features clearly, but he fancied that his voice betrayed decided nervousness. "I was, of course. It—it was all like a —a blow, don't you know," said Mr. Allen. "He was the last man"— There was a loud barking of a dog outside. Hendricks stepped quickly to a window and parted the curtains. "It's my bloodhound," he remarked, his gaze bent on Allen's face, which was now exposed to the full light from the outside. "I sent to New York for him. He is a fine English dog and can scent down the murderer if he is anywhere near here." Allen turned his face from the light. Lampkin thought he looked ill. "What are you going to do with, him?" asked Miss Benton. "We will all go out to the north walk if you don't object," returned the detective, "and then I'll show yon how keen his scent is." "Oh, I don't want to see it!" cried the young lady. "The idea is horrible. Ton gentlemen may go, but Julia and I will stay here." Allen said nothing, but Lampkin noticed that he put his hand on the edge of a table and leaned on it, quivering nervously. "All right, then," said Hendricks. "Come on, gentlemen." Again the barking of the dog was heard. This time it was nearer. "Ah, there he is!" went on tb« detective enthusiastically. He threw up the window sash and called, "Here, Nebo, here!" Miss Hastings and Miss Benton drew near to Hendricks and looked out. A man was holding by a chain a great animal, with dripping; jaws and flapping ears. The skin hung in loose folds on the hound's neck, and his eyes were deep set and dashed with red. "Here, Nebo!" called Hendricks, making a chirping sound with his lips. The dog saw his master and bounded toward him so quickly that the chain was jerked from his keeper's hand. The next instant the dog had his fore paws on the window sill, was barking joyously and trying to climb into the room. Uttering little screams of fear, the ladies retreated from the window. "Catch his chain, Johnson," ordered the detective, "If he gets into this room, he'll smash every piece of bric-a- brac in it. He's great on a breakdown.'' Johnson caught thei chain and drew the animal down from the window sill. "No lanse for fear, ladies," Hen- drinks assured them. "He is as gentle as a lamb except when he smells blood on, the trail. Come, Mr.—er—Allen, don't you wane to see an exhibition of his skill?" "I hope you will excuse me," said Allen. "I am really not well, and the news of my old friend's death has frightfully upset me. I wish yon all possible success, bat I would not care to witness your investigations unless—unless I were feeling better or could be of assistance. I think I shall go to my old room and lie down. I was with my physician last night, or, rather, he came to see me." Hendricks was surveying the man studiously as he spoke, and when he had finished he asked suddenly: "Who is your physician?" Allen sat down on a lounge and clasped his hands between his knees. "Why, Dr.—er—Barton," was his slow reply. "Think I have heard of him, "said the detective. ''Madison avenue, eh?" Allen hesitated, and as he did so hia eyes roved uneasily about the room. "No; be is not on Madison avenue," •aid he presently, and his gaze met chat «f the detective steadily, almqrt douged- M It seemed 'to Idmpkln that d'rickshad not heard Allen's last words. He had turned smilingly to Miss Benton. "You'd not be the least bit afraid of Nebo if yon knew what a friendly fellow he is," he said and bowed as he left the room. Outside the dog sprang joyfully to his master, climbed upon him with his fore paws and tried to lick his face. •'Do you think he will be of use?" asked the doctor when Johnson and the animal had fallen behind as they went toward the north walk. "I don't know yet," answered Hendricks, "bnt I am afraid not. However, he may bring some little light to me -when I see him at work." When they reached the spot in the north walk where The murdered man had lain, Eendricks unclasped the chain from the dog's neck arid with his hand touched one of the footprints. Instantly the animal lowered his nose and smelled the ground. Then with his nose to the sand he ran quickly to the spot where the tracks had ended. Here he stopped. He could go no farther. Back he came to the spot where the corpse had lain, made a little circle and then with a glad bark darted over the grass toward the gate at the side of the grounds. "No good," muttered Heudricks in a tone of disappointment. "He will lose the scent out there where so many people have passed to and fro." The dog ran on to the gate. They saw him spring over the wall and dart here and there as if bewildered in the street. Then he set np a dismal howl of defeat. Hendricks whistled to him, and Nebo trotted back, looking quite dejected and ashamed. "Poor fellow!" said the detective as he clasped the end of the chain on to the dog's collar. "Even you are puzzled. Take him home, Johnsou." Just then Balph Benton emerged from the back veranda and started toward them, but seeing them he turned and disappeared in, the house. Hendricks winked and grinned at Lampkin. "One reason I sent for the dog," he gaid—"I wanted to see who'd be afraid of him. Allen is either afraid or is sick, and Ealph found he had forgotten something the moment he laid eyes on the animal." "Do you think Mr. Allen was really ill?" asked Lampkin. "I don't know. I'm going to get Kola to look up all the Dr. Burtons in New York and see if he can find one who went to see Allen in the city last night. I'd like to catch him in a misstatement." "Kola?" said Lampkin. "Who's he?" "Ah, that's a fact! You have never met him. I have known him only about two weeks. He is an East Indian, a very sagacious young man. He came all the way from his native land to take lessons under me and has thrown his whole soul into detective work. I shall write a message for you to scmd to him after yon get over in New York.'' "You are going to dispense with my services?" asked the doctor. "Uutil this afternoon at 4 o'clock," was ths reply. Hendricks took from his pocket a piece of paper and a pencil and hurriedly wrote a few lines. Then be put the paper into an envelope and addressed it. "Send it by a messenger from the first office," he said. "I am going to take a room at a hotel over here, so as to be on the spot till I catch this thing by the tail. Go over and see how your office is getting on and then meet me at the hotel nearest the station. You know where it is. We passed it coming out." "That will suit me exactly," replied Lampkin. "Look for me." "Take good care of Nebo, Johnson," Hendrioks called out to the man, who had gone on ahead of them. "So long, doctor. I'll see you later. I am going to get something to eat the first thinj; I do." [TO BE CONTISTrED.] Takine Applec From m Cellar. The usual storage place for apples is .in the cellar. The barrels then have to be carried up the rollway by two men —a matter of no little difficulty when HAULESG APPLES FP.OM THE CELLAR. the rollway is narrow, as is usually the case. A plan is suggested in Gardening by which the barrels of apples are carried to the surface with, but little lifting and without jarring the fruit. The diagram tells its own story, except that the triangular truck that is mounted on two rollers is represented larger than, need be, thus making it higher than is actually necessary. The rollers run on a wide plank that rests on the edges of the stair treads. The same arrangement will be found equally serviceable in putting apples into the cellar in the fall and for u=e with vegetables, etc. Steam and Other Engine*. The most obvious means of driving a pump after the windmill is the steam engina Where, however, fuel is expensive the cost may be prohibitory. Next to stfiam come the gas or ga.soline and hot air engines. The fact seems to be, acoortling to investigations made under the auspices of the United States department of agriculture, that there are few if any steam pumping plants in sncoassful operation for irrigating purposes on the great plains. It is also reported that bnt few of the gasoline pumping plants have been installed. FEED RACK FOR FODDER. It !• » Combination Af&ir mud Will Hold Hay and Grain. The following cut shows the outlines of a feed rack in nse for a number of rears not only for corn fodder, bnt for i hay, straw, ensilage, meal, corn and in fact for every kind of food. It is a combination rack, has a tight bottom and will hold hay and grain at the same time. The drawing does not by any means show the rack complete. A correspondent of Prairie Farmer, who furnished the original drawing, describes the rack as follows: The rack is 5 feet wide and may be made any length desired. I built mine, however, 13 feet long, as they are more easily moved than if made longer. The posts are 4 by 4 and 6 feet long; the j slats that hold the fodder, 4 inches wide i I Blood Humors Whether itching:, burning, bleeding:, ocalr, •rusted, pimply, or blotchy,-whether tiniple, scrofulous, or hereditary, from infancy to »pe, ipeedily cured by trarm baths with CCTICURA SOAP, gentle anointings trithCcnctniA(oint- ment), tho great skin cure, and mild dose* •f CtmcuKA. RESOLVENT, greatest of blood purifiers and humor cure*. (uticura IimKld throughout thiworld. Fom> Due* i>t>Cm. C<mf. ( Sole Prop*.. Bo^tan. •jr " How to Cure ET*nr Blood Humor," tr*«. riPC UlllinDC FilUnc Il«ir ind Bihr B1»- rAllt nUmUnO i.bMcurwlbyCuTicuiu.So^r. AN EXCELLENT FEED RACK. and 8 feet long; the space between the slats is just 4 inches. A 2 by 4 is spiked on top of the posts and another is placed through the center at the bottom. To these the slats are nailed. The bottom ia made of fencing and a 6 inch board is put around outside to hold ensilage, grain, etc. The rack is not expensive to build and is strong and durable. It can be used in sheds or half of the rack may be placed around the outside of stable. I use these racks in yard, and around the outside use half, allowing tight board fence to form the back of the rack. It is the best rack for feeding whole corn fodder I ever saw. I throw in bundles of fodder, reach through between the slats with a jackknife and cut the strings. The stock cannot pull the stalks out and scatter them about the yard, as is the case with low down, open racks. Every bit of foliage will be pulled off, not a, particle of waste beyond the bare stalks. Whenever necessary, clean out the stalks, place them in a pile somewhere—mixing manure with them— to rot. We are about to make a rack similar to this for sheep. It will be lower, of course, and not so wide, and the slats will be placed straight up and down to avoid any litter falling into the wool. A 2 by 4 board, or fence board, will be nailed on to keep tho sheep from getting into the rack with the fore feet Storing Beets In I'its. Waldo F. Brown, one of Ohio's progressive farmers, writing to The National Stockman and Farmer, says: In pitting beets I prefer to cover them with earth without any straw over them and then keep the frost out by a covering of horse manure on the outside fo the pit when the ground freezes. When the earth, is put on the beets, it is wise to havo ventilators in the top, which can be made by nailing four pieces of board together so as to make chimneys six or eight inches square, and letting them extend down a foot or more into the beet pile. To prevent the rain from getting in through the ventilators let the boards on two sides be six inches shorter than the others and sa.w the top sloping and nail a roof board over it. What In m. Good Sugar Beet? In reply to the query, "What is a good sugar beet?" G. W. Shaw of the Oregon station says: Many farmers have a wrong idea as to what constitutes a good beet for sugar purposes. Contrary to a popular idea which is quite extant in the state, the beet should be small, •with, a large leafy top. Brien say:;: "The size of the beet is in the inverse ratio of its sugars and salts; the content of water increases A TYPICAL SCGAE BEET. with the size and -weight of the beet" In general, the standard adopted seema to be a beet weighing from 1% to \% pounds, carrying 14 per cent sugar and having a purity of 80 per cent, although factories will accept beets weighing as high as three pounds and having as low as 12 per cent sugar. A typical sugar beet is shown in the cut The average sugar content and purity for the slates where sugar is now being mannfactnred from beetsl-is as follows: B 4gsr. Purity. Olifomi* Nebraska Utah Wisconsin*• PECK'S AND CELERY SARSAPARILLA COMPOUND. TheBest Nerve Tonic Known, The Greatest Blood Purifier On Earth, It Restore* Strength. Renews Vitality. Purifies the Blood. Regulates the Kidneys Liver and Bowels WCTOa^^a^ftS^tt^SlBWfcaBi SPRUCE, $t.00.«~ PREPARED BY PecK Medicine Co., NEW YORK. N. Y- by Ben Fisher, Busjaho & Schneider, W. H. Porter. 3. F. Coulson, B. F. Keeeling. THE NEW WOMAN Pennyroyal Pills SAFE, SURE AND RELIABLE UUii uuvc j.»>^ wuvi.* *"T«... W_7 ii nA —j»— Sure intf R«iUWi Female Pill. Price, »1.00 par box. Hent by mall upon receipt of prto* Address all orders to »dvertl*«d «*ent«. PERRIN MEDICINE CO.. NEW YOMK, gold by B. F. Heading. •»» • FIELD&FLOWERS K Tie most tatndhfl M .*2*gL£?5 SH beaotilol of the P"*^,?, J™|5? o f tt* «ort*t mil £^£^M Pki4 !!•*«»«•* ^^"f/V**,, li — <•* •*•*•• BLOOD POISON HAVE YOU la koott. il«««*, <ni« t I. »<*»,*•«>- tor proob at WontC Blc«l« amn-i rvaaadr for OlM*. Sffrm WnitM.
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