BEFORE PRESS TIME.
Young Mr. Gale, with an exceedingly peevish expression upon his handsome
countenance, dropped into police headquarters with the intention of
having a little talk with his friend, Chief Hodgins.
He was greatly disappointed when the patrolman on guard at the head of
the stairway told him that the chief was not in.
“He’s taking a day off,” the man explained. “He’s gone out of town, I
believe; but we expect him back to-morrow morning. Can’t your business
wait until then?”
“Hardly,” Gale replied. “The matter I wished to see him about requires
immediate attention. Who’s in charge while he’s away?”
“Captain Callman. Would you like to see him? He’s in the chief’s office
now.”
The captain greeted his visitor cordially when he heard that the latter
was the son of the proprietor of the administration organ. _Chronicle_
men were as welcome at police headquarters as _Bulletin_ men were
obnoxious.
The captain listened with great interest to what Gale told him, and a
troubled expression came to his face.
“Do you know whose pictures they’ve got?” he inquired uneasily.
“I know a couple of them. There were six altogether, but I haven’t the
slightest idea who the other four were. It was quite impossible to
recognize the faces in the negatives.”
“Well, even if you couldn’t recognize the faces, it seems to me that you
ought to have been able to distinguish the uniforms,” said Callman
anxiously. “Didn’t happen to notice whether one of ’em was wearing a
captain’s uniform, did you, young man?”
“Why, yes,” said Gale. “There was a captain among them. It was a very
clear snapshot--the best of the lot. It was taken on Main Street--I
could tell that by the buildings in the background. But I don’t know
which captain it was. As I have said, it wasn’t possible to distinguish
the faces on the films.”
“I think I know who it was, all right,” growled Callman. “I’ve got an
idea that it was me. I’ve a hazy recollection that somebody took a
flash-light picture of me on Main Street last night.”
“A hazy recollection?” Gale echoed, with an inquiring inflection.
The captain nodded gloomily. “Yes; I don’t remember much about it, but
I’ve got a faint idea that the thing happened. You see, some of my
friends gave me a little dinner as a token of their esteem last night,
and--well, there must have been something wrong with the lobster salad,
I guess. I had a fierce attack of--er--ptomaine poisoning, and when I
left the festive board to go on duty I was pretty wabbly on my legs, and
my head wasn’t very clear; but I’ve got just a dim recollection of a
fellow standing in front of me with a camera, and of a flash light going
off. I had clean forgotten all about it, but what you have told me has
brought it back to me.”
“Gee!” exclaimed Gale sympathetically. “So one of those snapshots is of
you, eh? That’s too bad, captain. But what are you going to do about it?
Surely you don’t intend to let those stiffs publish your picture?”
Callman scowled. “Not if I can help it. But how can I stop ’em?”
“Well, if I were in your place I shouldn’t hesitate at anything,” said
Gale. “If necessary, I’d march a squad of cops into the _Bulletin_
office, and seize those films and the cuts made from them.”
Callman considered this suggestion for a few moments, then shook his
head. “No, I don’t like that very much. It would be too high-handed a
proceedin’. If it wasn’t a newspaper that we had to deal with, I might
try it; but it’s dangerous to monkey with the liberty of the press.
That’s one thing the people won’t stand for.”
“But those snapshots were taken in violation of the law--the new
anticamera law,” argued Gale. “Surely that gives you the legal right to
confiscate them.”
“No, it don’t,” said Callman regretfully. “I was talkin’ with the
district attorney about that the other day, and he told me that while we
can arrest a newspaper photographer for taking pictures without a
license, we can’t stop the newspaper from publishing the pictures.
“Besides,” he added, “if I did as you suggest, it would probably get the
mayor sore. He’s a little leery about this new camera law.”
Gale was somewhat discouraged, but suddenly he brightened up. “Well,
here’s another suggestion, captain,” he said. “Why not try what bribery
will do? The _Bulletin’s_ photo-engraving plant is run by a fellow named
Neilson. What’s the matter with sending somebody to see him, and offer
him a good price to hand over the negatives and destroy the cuts?”
Callman nodded approvingly. “That sounds much better. But are you sure
that the man can be bribed?”
“Pshaw! Every man has his price,” was the cynical reply. “And I don’t
suppose this Neilson hates money more than most of us.”
“I’m not sure that it would work,” said Callman, “but it’s worth tryin’.
How would you suggest goin’ about it? It’s a little dangerous, of
course, but I’m willing to take a chance.”
“I don’t think there’d be the slightest danger, captain,” said Gale.
“I’ve got a plan by which it could be worked with perfect safety.”
He proceeded to explain this plan to the acting head of Oldham’s police
force, and that official thought very well of it, and decided to put it
into effect immediately.
An hour later, a large, red-faced man named Rudolph Meyer, who kept a
delicatessen store not far from police headquarters, and who was under
certain obligations to Police Captain Callman, entered the Bulletin
Building, and ascended the stairway leading to the photo-engraving
plant.
At the top of the first flight he was intercepted by Miggsy. “Hey! Where
d’yer suppose you’re going, mister?” the boy demanded.
“I want to go by der place where der cuts iss made,” Mr. Meyer
explained. “I haff a little order for some advertising cuts which I wish
to give.”
“Oh, some job work, eh?” said Miggsy. “All right; I’ll show you the way
up to the plant.”
“You needn’t trouble, my boy,” said Mr. Meyer hastily. “I find it all
right by meinself.”
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all, mister,” declared Miggsy, with a grin.
“This way, please.”
Mr. Meyer did not appear to be tickled to death by this attention, but
he followed the boy up the stairs without making any further protest.
Neilson was working on the police cuts when they entered the room. He
looked up suspiciously at his visitors. Carroll had warned him to be
strictly on his guard while the snapshots were in his possession.
“Here’s a gent who wants to do some business with you. Mr. Neilson,”
Miggsy announced. And then, greatly to Meyer’s relief, the boy went
downstairs, leaving him alone with the photo-engraver.
The visitor lost no time in getting down to business. There was no
telling when the boy or somebody else might come into the room, and Mr.
Meyer was exceedingly averse to saying what he had to say to Neilson in
the presence of a third party. At no time in his life had he felt more
inclined to indorse the old saying that “two is company, three is a
crowd,” than at this minute.
“I want some cuts made,” he began. “I am getting out a leedle
advertising circular for my wine and liquor business. Here iss one of
the pictures which I wish made into a cut.”
He drew a small oblong of saffron-hued paper from his pocket, and held
it before Neilson’s eyes.
“Why, that ban a fifty-dollar bill,” exclaimed Neilson in astonishment.
Mr. Meyer took from his pocket another slip of paper. “And here, mein
friend, is another leedle picture which I wish made into a cut,” he
announced.
The engraver’s eyes opened wider. “That ban a hundred-dollar bill!” he
exclaimed.
“Nefer mind what they are, mein friend,” said Meyer. “I want them both
made into cuts for mein leedle advertising circular. You can do
it--yes?”
“Sure,” Neilson replied. “Why not? When must the cuts be ready?”
“Oh, there’s no hurry. Keep these leedle pictures for as long as you
like.” Mr. Meyer put his head closer to the engraver’s, and lowered his
voice. “In fact, mein friend, you can keep them forever--if you will do
me a leedle favor.”
Neilson’s eyes glistened hungrily. “What’s the favor?” he demanded
eagerly. “I ban willing to do whole lot of favors for a hundred and
fifty dollars.”
In a tense whisper, Mr. Meyer explained how the money was to be earned.
The _Bulletin’s_ photo-engraver did not appear to be horrified or
indignant.
“Oil right,” he said phlegmatically; “I do it. I ban sick of this here
yob, anyway. Give me the hundred and fifty dollars. It ban look good to
me.”
He held out his hand, and, as the yellowbacks came in contact with his
long, slim fingers, his ears caught a faint, clicking sound, which came
from a large canvas screen at the other end of the room.
Then there was a chuckle, and a voice cried exultantly: “All right, Ole;
we’ve got it!”
Mr. Meyer glanced uneasily toward the screen. From behind that piece of
furniture stepped two young men. One of them had a camera in his hand.
“What’ll I do with this here dirty money, Mr. Carroll?” inquired
Neilson, his usually stolid countenance animated by a broad grin.
“Give it back to the gentleman, Ole,” Carroll chuckled. “He may need it
to buy _Bulletins_ with to-morrow morning. I’ve no doubt he’ll want a
whole lot of copies, inasmuch as his portrait is going to occupy such a
prominent position in the paper.”
TO BE CONTINUED.
* * * * *
THE NEWS OF ALL NATIONS.
Raw Cotton in Many Colors.
In South Carolina there is a cotton grower, W. Brabham, who maintains
that cotton may be colored before it is grown. He says: “I have now in
prospect or on hand red, brown, green, and gray cotton.” Some he got by
means of hybridizing. Red is native to Peru, gray is grown in India,
brown in Egypt, yellow in China, and black is being developed in Mexico,
according to Mr. Brabham.
He says soil has no effect on the colors, and he believes that it will
be possible to grow practically any desired shade as a result of
crossing the various available colors. Thus, if the war makes it
impossible to obtain dyes, we may be able to get along with the aid of
nature and have the additional certainty that the colors will be fast.
Tree is Foe of Mosquitoes.
Mosquitoes had better give Pennsylvania a wide berth in the future, if
Professor Henry G. Walters’ eucalyptus trees begin to flourish. Recently
the professor planted 500 seeds of this tree, which is a native of
Australia, at his plant-research institute at Langhorne, Bucks County,
Pa. He says they keep away mosquitoes and miasma.
Professor Walters is not certain that he can induce the trees to stand
the Pennsylvania climate, but he’s going to try. Unless they are treated
chemically, they succumb usually to a temperature below twenty-seven
degrees. When they grow properly they attain a height of 375 to 480
feet.
They have other values in addition to being mosquito exterminators. The
oil has a fragrant perfume. From the eucalyptus rostrata, or red gum,
Professor Walters says, a delicious beverage is obtained by steeping the
blossoms in water.
The tree species planted at Langhorne recently are the amygdalina, or
peppermint gum; the rostrata, or red gum, and globulus, or Tasmanian
blue gum.
Saw Seven Distinct Suns.
Seven distinct suns, or solar reflections, were seen by Mr. and Mrs. R.
M. King, of Oak Mills, Kan., and, as near as they can recall, the
strange phenomenon occurred in March, 1855. Mrs. King is making inquiry
through the press to know if any of the old-timers remember it.
The strange spectacle was first noticed at eight o’clock in the morning
and lasted until noon. They were in a group, each sun having a circle
around it, and wherever these circles intersected there appeared to be a
small star. The phenomenon caused considerable consternation among
superstitious people, some contending that it was an omen of an
impending war or that the end of the world was near.
Aime Argand and the Lamp.
A lamp of some character has been used since a period so remote that no
trace of its origin is to be found, but the lamp, as we understand it,
was the invention of Aime Argand, a Frenchman, and he came about the
effectiveness of this lighting apparatus in a most unique way.
Argand never fairly lifted himself out of the rut of poverty, but lived
and died poor, disappointed and neglected. He was born at Geneva,
Switzerland, in 1755, but he was living in England in 1782, when his
first lamp was produced. The main feature of his lamp was that the wick
fitted into a hollow cylinder, up which a current of air was allowed to
pass, admitting a free supply of oxygen to the interior as well as the
exterior of the circular flame.
Interesting New Inventions.
To keep telephones clean a San Francisco inventor has patented a machine
that automatically covers a transmitter with paper after it has been
used, which paper must be removed before the instrument is used again.
A newly invented electrical device measures off the ten-millionth part
of a second with accuracy.
A space-saving household novelty is a folding washtub, which is locked
against collapsing when filled with water.
A coat and hatrack combined with a fire escape is a new and useful piece
of household furniture.
So that automobiles can be run on railroad tracks, flanged steel rims
have been invented that are attached by deflating the tires and then
inflating them until they grip the rims.
Two Wisconsin inventors have patented a kerosene lamp that is
automatically extinguished if upset or even lifted from a support.
A California genius has rigged up a motor cycle with battery and motor,
so that he dispenses with the use of gasoline.
Cows Travel Far to Mourn.
Employees at the cattle pens at Paoli freight station, in Philadelphia,
Pa., were puzzled the other day when they found two stray cows near the
pens when they reported for work. The cows were lowing and wouldn’t be
driven away.
When F. H. Bernheisel, a cattle dealer of Newtown Square, arrived, he
said that the cows were the mothers of two calves found trampled dead
when a car containing a herd consigned to him was unloaded at Paoli. The
calves were buried soon after the unloading, and Bernheisel’s employees
drove the herd to his farm.
The two mother cows got away from the pasture during the night and made
the seven-mile journey to their “babies” at Paoli in darkness.
Now Numbers His Children.
If any person in Pendleton County, Ky., needs a fourteen-passenger motor
car, it must be County Assessor John McClanahan. Well, he actually tried
to get his family all in a buggy recently and go to McKinneysburg
visiting. Everybody mistook them for a Sunday-school picnic party and
never knew any better until they were told that John McClanahan was
taking a section of the Christian Church congregation of McKinneysburg
to spend the day with relatives. Several tried to count them, but made
no headway, as one little fellow kept moving about so they could not
count him. Some made a good guess, and that was to the effect that he
had a buggy load.
John has run out of names and gone to numbering them. He has passed out
of the teens, but we don’t know where he started nor do we know or even
attempt to guess where he will stop.
To Make Compass on Watch.
A watch may be used to determine the points of the compass by pointing
the hour hand at the sun any time of the day and then placing a small
piece of straight wire crosswise between the hour hand and the figure
twelve, getting exactly halfway. The point of the wire which comes
between the twelve and the hour hand always points due south.
Shoots White Jack Rabbit.
A snow-white jack rabbit, shot in the big grazing district at Bazaar,
Kan., by Robert Carr, was a curiosity brought to Cottonwood Falls by
George Martin. According to old residents here, such a thing as a white
jack rabbit has never before been heard of. Carr, who shot the animal,
said it made a shining target against the green grass of the range, and
he would have been glad to have captured it alive.
Robbed by an Automobile.
A freak automobile accident here robbed J. L. Moore, seventy-five years
old, of his watch and Masonic charm. Mr. Moore was one of the thousands
of visitors attending the “fruit fair” at Salem, Ore. As he crossed the
street, an automobile brushed against him. He was knocked down. The
machine kept going, and with it was part of Mr. Moore’s waistcoat,
containing his watch and Masonic charm.
Look Out! Meteors Falling.
Jacob Weggen, of Muscatine, Iowa, narrowly escaped death from the skies
when a nine-pound fragment of meteorite, which exploded above him
embedded itself in the earth, within eight feet from him as he stood
bewildered by the phenomena.
Weggen was crossing the lawn when he observed a bright light in the
skies. He witnessed the approach of the aërolite and its explosion.
Bird Excites Missourians.
A strange bird that has been making its appearance on the Yeager farm,
three miles southwest of Gentry, Mo., is causing considerable comment
among the people of the vicinity. People who have seen the bird at close
range say it in no way resembles a parrot, but it calls as plainly as a
person could speak the words: “William Stevens--William Stevens.”
There is no person living in the neighborhood by that name, and the
bird’s insistent call is causing people to wonder. Efforts are being
made to capture the bird alive, but it is very wild, and so far has
succeeded in eluding capture.
Willy Gets Spanked--Bang!
Mrs. William Brown, of Jamison City, Pa., felt badly about spanking her
son, William, junior, but it had to be done. Now she is deeply grieved,
because her boy is suffering pain from burns received as a result of
the spanking.
Junior found a box of toy-pistol caps left over from the Fourth and
carried them in his trousers pocket. When he went swimming and didn’t
come home until an hour after supper time, Mrs. Brown turned him over
her knee and began to administer the corrective treatment.
As a result of an unusually hard contact of the slipper the caps
exploded all at once.
Picking Prickly Peppers.
Samuel Pocket’s pockets are not pickpocket proof, but to Sam it’s no
laughing matter. While he was boarding a street car Saturday in Saginaw,
Mich., on his way to a picnic, some one slipped his hand into one of
Sam’s pistol pockets and fled with a pocketbook containing $180. When
Pocket put his own hand in his own pocket, he found the pocketbook,
pelf, and picnic pass were gone, and his discovery was positive and
painful.
Old “Nipsic” Goes Up in Smoke.
The touch of a match and all that was left of the gallant old battleship
_Nipsic_, which helped make naval history for nearly fifty years, was
consigned to flames on Lumi Island on Bellingham Bay, Wash.
Two incidents stand out above all the rest in the palmy days of the
_Nipsic_. She was of Admiral Farragut’s fleet at Mobile and she was the
only American vessel to come out whole in the typhoon at Aphia, Samoa,
in 1889.
Old Lady, Seventy-nine, is Some Rider.
With the mercury at one hundred degrees, Mrs. Cynthia E. Davis, of
Goshen, Ind., celebrated her seventy-ninth-birthday anniversary by
riding a bicycle to New Paris and return, a distance of twelve miles.
Again at home she said to two nephews and a pair of slender gazelles who
may have some right to be called second or third cousins: “Come on,
chickens, I’ll scramble ye a few aigs.”
Loud Siren Screecher Terrorizes Hundreds.
“Bob” Maynard is known to be one of the best logging engineers in
Chireno, Texas, but he doesn’t like to run a wheezy, prancing old steam
hurdy-gurdy. Not at all; give Bob a likely hummer and he is the chap
that will keep her humming. Thus it was that he no sooner had engaged
with a logging outfit than he demanded and got a brand-new engine. The
whistle on the new power producer was too much like a boy’s penny
trumpet to suit the fastidious Bob. Bob had had some experience along
the Mississippi and had heard the noisy whistles that adorn some of the
big flat-bottom boats. And in due time there arrived from the big shop
up north a siren screecher warranted to be heard ten miles, in either
direction, on a still day.
Everything adjusted to Bob’s practical taste, he proceeded to run the
new beauty over to where it was to do duty at a busy lumber camp.
Arrived in that vicinity at about the same time was a full-fledged
Sunday school out for a picnic in the woods. When Bob let loose with the
great siren screecher--now low and mournful--then wild and alarming--and
again to its limit, as if some eighty-foot, hundred-ton dinosaurus had
suddenly come to life and was setting up an unearthly howl for its mate,
Bob’s heart fluttered with delight.
Hearing the awful sounds, four of the Sunday-school girls rushed back to
the grove where half a hundred children and adults stood spellbound, and
cried out: “Wolves--panthers--bears--monsters--save us! save us!”
After long consultation, half a dozen men, with guns and dogs, started
out to scour the country for the “roaring hyenus,” as one of the men
called it.
By this time scores of people came rushing pell-mell from a near-by
settlement, armed with shotguns, rifles, axes, pitchforks, and fence
stakes. “Whatever is it?” they shouted, and “What is to become of us?”
from many of the women formed into groups with their young ones shielded
behind their barriers of skirts.
“Go, men, and slay that awful beast before we are all devoured like the
martyrs of yore,” yelled one tall, wild-eyed matron, pointing a long,
bony finger in the direction of the terrifying sounds, which again broke
forth, with even greater fury.
Soon there was a crashing of underbrush, wild cries of excited men,
barking and howling of numerous hounds, occasional shots, as the
attackers advanced toward the spot from which the alarming sounds came.
Now hundreds of telephones were in use throughout the country. “What is
it?” one would ask. “What is what?” comes the reply. “That awful noise
we hear,” another would explain. “Cyclone, I guess,” still another would
answer.
In time the attacking force came to the clearing where Bob was amusing
himself with the try-out of his screeching pet. The attackers and their
dogs, the former seeing that the enemy was nothing worse than a man of
average height and weight and some sort of hissing locomotive, made a
football rush, and, as they came to a halt, all exclaimed as one man:
“Well, what the h--l!”
“Jest tunin’ her up,” said Bob, with a characteristic grin.
“Tunin’ her up!” angrily exclaimed one of the Sunday-school scouts.
“Don’t ye know yer tunin’ up the whole county with that thar crazy
whangdoodle affair? Want ter skeer people ter death?”
“Oh,” said Bob calmly, “they’ll like it in time--it’s more fun than a
cage o’ monkeys.”
“Jes’ so, I don’t think,” said the angry man. “And I’ll tell you what,
mister, ef thet thingumbob scares any of them wimmen and children to
death, we’ll bring heavy damage suits against the company, that’s what
we’ll do.”
“You can’t blow that thing around these diggings any more,” said the
superintendent of the Sunday school.
“Now, see here,” said Bob, “you go fetch all the women and little ones
over here to the camp and let me demonstrate to them, and if this here
whistle isn’t the one big, entertaining feature of your picnic, I’ll
promise never to blow her again.”
This was finally agreed upon, and, true to Bob’s claim, the whole crowd
found the noisy siren to be “more fun than a cage of monkeys.”
Before breaking up at nightfall the picknickers declared Bob was the
hero of the day, and tendered him a vote of thanks.
Even so, the big laugh was reserved to the last. Just as Bob was banking
his fire and the crowd were shouting and waving their good-bys and good
nights, the faces of three wild-eyed Indians loomed up from behind a
clump of sagebrush and continued to stare with what might be called
frozen amazement. When finally induced to speak, one of them said, with
a smile, “Injin heap fool. Come much far. All day climb tree when hear
noise. No can tell what. Injin heap fool. Odder Injin now much laugh.”
Finds Some Use for Dogfish.
Dogfish are so numerous in Long Island waters that they are cluttering
up the fishermen’s lines. No use had been found for them until Roger
Carman, of Freeport, N. Y., cut the two little horns off one of the fish
and used them for needles on his phonograph.
Carman says these dogfish horns reproduce the records perfectly, without
any grating noise, and that there does not seem to be any wear out to
them. Contrary to expectations, there was no barking sound, no more than
there would be mewing if catfish horns were used.
All the fishermen hereabouts are now saving the two little horns on each
dogfish, with the expectation that there will be a big demand for them
by phonograph users.
Look Out for Towel Inside.
Doctor Edgar Todd, of Toms River, N. J., is feeling better and his
“unaccountable illness” has at last been explained. Doctor Todd was
operated on last December for kidney trouble, but failed to improve.
Recently he was operated on again and a surgeon’s towel, ten inches in
diameter, was removed from his body.
Man and Wife Keep Up Mum Game Fifty Years.
Fifty-two years married and fifty years gone by without speaking to each
other.
This is the remarkable record of a South Westport, Mass., couple, Mr.
and Mrs. Charles Wing. Outside of their neighbors, who have known of the
estrangement for years, but have carefully refrained from mentioning it,
the unique conversational separation of the old people did not become
known to the world at large until their home was destroyed by fire.
Few people know the cause of the gulf between the two, and they treasure
their secret. It began shortly after their marriage, half a century ago.
Both have endured the situation and both apparently have lived happy,
contented, and useful lives. Their only conversation during that long
span of time has been carried on through the medium of a third person.
Mr. Wing is a farmer, eighty-eight years old, while his wife is
sixty-nine. Until their farmhouse burned down, Mrs. Wing lived in the
house, while Mr. Wing lived in a sort of shanty which he styled his
“den.” He has been living in the den since, and Mrs. Wing has gone to
live with her son, whose residence is a short distance away.
Snakes and Snake Oil While Customers Wait.
About nine miles from Neosho, Mo., Adelbert Tibbins and J. J. Wilson are
operating one of the most unique “farms” in the country. This is nothing
less than a “rattlesnake ranch,” and this enterprise, which is conducted
on Indian Creek, being in a neighborhood where snakes are plentiful, the
two men are doing a thriving business. They say that there seems to be
an unusually large number of reptiles in this part of the Ozarks this
summer.
For three years the two men have been building up this business, and
now have in the neighborhood of 600 snakes in their pits, which are so
constructed that the reptiles cannot escape. The principal profits of
this enterprise come from the extracting of poison from the
rattlesnakes, which is sold at high prices to doctors, chemists, and
others. Physicians use this poison, after it has been prepared in a
scientific manner, for the treatment of epilepsy and other diseases.
Tibbins and Wilson also have a large revenue from the sale of live
reptiles to traveling shows and to museums, at the established rate of
twenty-five cents per pound. A large, fat serpent usually brings several
dollars. The smaller, poorer specimens are killed and their flesh
converted into rattlesnake oil, which has a steady sale at one dollar an
ounce. This oil is said to be a specific for the treatment of
rheumatism.
Most of the capturing of rattlesnakes for the “ranch” is done by the two
partners themselves. Seldom can they find a white man who will take a
chance on the rather dangerous duty, though occasionally an Indian or
negro is found who is willing, for a good price, to run the risk of
taking them alive. It is said that the best time for the hunting of
rattlesnakes is in the early spring, when they first come out of their
winter’s sleep and are still sluggish. They are caught by means of a
forked stick, with which their heads are pinned to the earth and the
captor can pick them up and place them in a sack.
When they intend to sell a live snake by weight it is fattened on
rabbits or rats. They take on weight rapidly. Tibbins and Wilson have
found as many as one hundred snakes in one cave. The same family of
reptiles will occupy a cave for years if left undisturbed, the two men
say.
Sportsmen Rescue Squirrel.
Joining forces, five trout fishermen in Orangeville, Minn., saved the
life of a red squirrel which was on the point of being crushed by a huge
blacksnake.
Hearing shrieks of terror, which none of the men had ever before heard,
the men dropped their poles and rushed into the bushes, where they found
a squirrel struggling to free itself from the coils of a big blacksnake,
which was slowly winding itself around the little animal.
The snake was hacked into pieces in an instant, and the squirrel
scampered up a tree, where he sat and chattered at his rescuers, who
declare they are sure the animal was thanking them.
Ever-bearing Cherry Tree.
An ever-bearing cherry tree is the valuable possession of Mrs. Oliver
Slimmer, of Russell, Kan. The freak tree has an abundance of ripe fruit
on it, has green fruit, and is still blossoming. From present prospects
the tree will bear cherries well into the fall.
Scarlet Diving Girl Author of New Fad.
Frog parties are likely to become popular with bathers at other inland
water resorts when the experience of a girl, clad in a bright-red
bathing suit, becomes generally known.
The girl in scarlet was bathing in shallow water at Highland Lake, near
Winsted, Conn., when she felt frogs strike her repeatedly. Being a great
lover of that delectable dish--frog legs--the girl turned her experience
to good account.
She repaired to a cottage, sewed about fifty fishhooks in the bright-red
bathing suit, and then reëntered the lake. When she emerged from the
water, nearly every hook held a bullfrog.
Hears the Dog Bark; Yes, Dogs Have Eyes.
The mystery of the Blue Island ax murders of July, 1914, has solved
itself. To escape the tortures of his own conscience, Casimir
Areiszewski, the murderer, gave himself up to the police of Buffalo, N.
Y., and wrote and signed a confession.
It was for the little hoard which he knew to be hidden in Jacob
Mislich’s bedtick, said Areiszewski, that he killed Mislich, his wife,
his daughter, and his granddaughter. But the crime did not yield even
the sordid reward for which it was committed. Just as Areiszewski had
cleared his way to the money, a dog barked--and ever since, he says, he
has been unable to sleep without hearing and being awakened by a dream
dog’s barking.
“I was born in Russia and am a brickmaker by trade,” ran Areiszewski’s
statement. “I came to this country when I was fourteen, and worked in
Chicago for a year or two. Then I got a job in a brickyard in Blue
Island, and rented a room from Mislich.
“A couple of years later I went West. When I came back to Blue Island, I
got my old job and my old room. I knew old Mislich had money hidden in
his bedtick. I got up early in the morning of July 5th and crept
downstairs. I found an ax out in the shed and carried it back to the
house. I was in my stocking feet, and they did not hear me coming. I
killed them as they slept.
“It was as I killed the last--the granddaughter--that the watchdog
barked, I was afraid to stay any longer, and I went away without the
money. I have heard the dog barking ever since. When I try to sleep he
wakes me. I have traveled all over the country, but the dog is still
with me.”
Makes Lucky Strike in Zinc.
Six months ago, George A. Tibbans, of Carterville, Mo., was “powder
monkey” or shot firer at the old “Hero” zinc mine, at a wage of $3.50
per day. By the time he paid rent, household expenses, car fare, et
cetera, he was in no danger of being forced to pay an income tax.
Believing he could do better for himself and family by working for
himself, he secured a lease on the “Last Chance,” an old, abandoned mine
that had never paid on account of the low price of ore. For several
weeks he barely made wages, but as the price of ore gradually went
higher, he began to receive weekly checks of forty and fifty dollars.
Then he discovered a “pocket” of exceedingly rich ore, and right on top
of this zinc ore jumped to $130 per ton.
Tibbans has leased a 100-ton mill and is now cleaning up something over
$1,000 a week, with a good chance of doing even better, for the “pocket”
is becoming richer, and zinc ore seems to be due for still higher
prices.
Big Brewery Becomes Malted-milk Concern.
Coors Brewery, at Golden, Col., one of the largest in the State, will
discontinue the manufacture of beer and will employ the same force of
men in the manufacture of malted milk. The plant represents an
investment of a million dollars.
* * * * *
The Nick Carter Stories
ISSUED EVERY SATURDAY BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS
When it comes to detective stories worth while, the =Nick Carter Stories=
contain the only ones that should be considered. They are not overdrawn
tales of bloodshed. They rather show the working of one of the finest
minds ever conceived by a writer. The name of Nick Carter is familiar
all over the world, for the stories of his adventures may be read in
twenty languages. No other stories have withstood the severe test of
time so well as those contained in the =Nick Carter Stories=. It proves
conclusively that they are the best. We give herewith a list of some of
the back numbers in print. You can have your news dealer order them, or
they will be sent direct by the publishers to any address upon receipt
of the price in money or postage stamps.
730--The Torn Card.
731--Under Desperation’s Spur.
732--The Connecting Link.
733--The Abduction Syndicate.
738--A Plot Within a Plot.
739--The Dead Accomplice.
746--The Secret Entrance.
747--The Cavern Mystery.
748--The Disappearing Fortune.
749--A Voice from the Past.
752--The Spider’s Web.
753--The Man With a Crutch.
754--The Rajah’s Regalia.
755--Saved from Death.
756--The Man Inside.
757--Out for Vengeance.
758--The Poisons of Exili.
759--The Antique Vial.
760--The House of Slumber.
761--A Double Identity.
762--“The Mocker’s” Stratagem.
763--The Man that Came Back.
764--The Tracks in the Snow.
765--The Babbington Case.
766--The Masters of Millions.
767--The Blue Stain.
768--The Lost Clew.
770--The Turn of a Card.
771--A Message in the Dust.
772--A Royal Flush.
774--The Great Buddha Beryl.
775--The Vanishing Heiress.
776--The Unfinished Letter.
777--A Difficult Trail.
782--A Woman’s Stratagem.
783--The Cliff Castle Affair.
784--A Prisoner of the Tomb.
785--A Resourceful Foe.
789--The Great Hotel Tragedies.
795--Zanoni, the Transfigured.
796--The Lure of Gold.
797--The Man With a Chest.
798--A Shadowed Life.
799--The Secret Agent.
800--A Plot for a Crown.
801--The Red Button.
802--Up Against It.
803--The Gold Certificate.
804--Jack Wise’s Hurry Call.
805--Nick Carter’s Ocean Chase.
807--Nick Carter’s Advertisement.
808--The Kregoff Necklace.
811--Nick Carter and the Nihilists.
812--Nick Carter and the Convict Gang.
813--Nick Carter and the Guilty Governor.
814--The Triangled Coin.
815--Ninety-nine--and One.
816--Coin Number 77.
NEW SERIES
NICK CARTER STORIES
1--The Man from Nowhere.
2--The Face at the Window.
3--A Fight for a Million.
4--Nick Carter’s Land Office.
5--Nick Carter and the Professor.
6--Nick Carter as a Mill Hand.
7--A Single Clew.
8--The Emerald Snake.
9--The Currie Outfit.
10--Nick Carter and the Kidnapped Heiress.
11--Nick Carter Strikes Oil.
12--Nick Carter’s Hunt for a Treasure.
13--A Mystery of the Highway.
14--The Silent Passenger.
15--Jack Dreen’s Secret.
16--Nick Carter’s Pipe Line Case.
17--Nick Carter and the Gold Thieves.
18--Nick Carter’s Auto Chase.
19--The Corrigan Inheritance.
20--The Keen Eye of Denton.
21--The Spider’s Parlor.
22--Nick Carter’s Quick Guess.
23--Nick Carter and the Murderess.
24--Nick Carter and the Pay Car.
25--The Stolen Antique.
26--The Crook League.
27--An English Cracksman.
28--Nick Carter’s Still Hunt.
29--Nick Carter’s Electric Shock.
30--Nick Carter and the Stolen Duchess.
31--The Purple Spot.
32--The Stolen Groom.
33--The Inverted Cross.
34--Nick Carter and Keno McCall.
35--Nick Carter’s Death Trap.
36--Nick Carter’s Siamese Puzzle.
37--The Man Outside.
38--The Death Chamber.
39--The Wind and the Wire.
40--Nick Carter’s Three Cornered Chase.
41--Dazaar, the Arch-Fiend.
42--The Queen of the Seven.
43--Crossed Wires.
44--A Crimson Clew.
45--The Third Man.
46--The Sign of the Dagger.
47--The Devil Worshipers.
48--The Cross of Daggers.
49--At Risk of Life.
50--The Deeper Game.
51--The Code Message.
52--The Last of the Seven.
53--Ten-Ichi, the Wonderful.
54--The Secret Order of Associated Crooks.
55--The Golden Hair Clew.
56--Back From the Dead.
57--Through Dark Ways.
58--When Aces Were Trumps.
59--The Gambler’s Last Hand.
60--The Murder at Linden Fells.
61--A Game for Millions.
62--Under Cover.
63--The Last Call.
64--Mercedes Danton’s Double.
65--The Millionaire’s Nemesis.
66--A Princess of the Underworld.
67--The Crook’s Blind.
68--The Fatal Hour.
69--Blood Money.
70--A Queen of Her Kind.
71--Isabel Benton’s Trump Card.
72--A Princess of Hades.
73--A Prince of Plotters.
74--The Crook’s Double.
75--For Life and Honor.
76--A Compact With Dazaar.
77--In the Shadow of Dazaar.
78--The Crime of a Money King.
79--Birds of Prey.
80--The Unknown Dead.
81--The Severed Hand.
82--The Terrible Game of Millions.
83--A Dead Man’s Power.
84--The Secrets of an Old House.
85--The Wolf Within.
86--The Yellow Coupon.
87--In the Toils.
88--The Stolen Radium.
89--A Crime in Paradise.
90--Behind Prison Bars.
91--The Blind Man’s Daughter.
92--On the Brink of Ruin.
93--Letter of Fire.
94--The $100,000 Kiss.
95--Outlaws of the Militia.
96--The Opium-Runners.
97--In Record Time.
98--The Wag-Nuk Clew.
99--The Middle Link.
100--The Crystal Maze.
101--A New Serpent in Eden.
102--The Auburn Sensation.
103--A Dying Chance.
104--The Gargoni Girdle.
105--Twice in Jeopardy.
106--The Ghost Launch.
107--Up in the Air.
108--The Girl Prisoner.
109--The Red Plague.
110--The Arson Trust.
111--The King of the Firebugs.
112--“Lifter’s” of the Lofts.
113--French Jimmie and His Forty Thieves.
114--The Death Plot.
115--The Evil Formula.
116--The Blue Button.
117--The Deadly Parallel.
118--The Vivisectionists.
119--The Stolen Brain.
120--An Uncanny Revenge.
121--The Call of Death.
122--The Suicide.
123--Half a Million Ransom.
124--The Girl Kidnapper.
125--The Pirate Yacht.
126--The Crime of the White Hand.
127--Found in the Jungle.
128--Six Men in a Loop.
129--The Jewels of Wat Chang.
130--The Crime in the Tower.
131--The Fatal Message.
132--Broken Bars.
133--Won by Magic.
134--The Secret of Shangore.
135--Straight to the Goal.
136--The Man They Held Back.
137--The Seal of Gijon.
138--The Traitors of the Tropics.
139--The Pressing Peril.
140--The Melting-Pot.
141--The Duplicate Night.
142--The Edge of a Crime.
143--The Sultan’s Pearls.
144--The Clew of the White Collar.
145--An Unsolved Mystery.
146--Paying the Price.
147--On Death’s Trail.
148--The Mark of Cain.
Dated July 17th, 1915.
149--A Network of Crime.
Dated July 24th, 1915.
150--The House of Fear.
Dated July 31st, 1915.
151--The Mystery of the Crossed Needles.
Dated August 7th, 1915.
152--The Forced Crime.
Dated August 14th, 1915.
153--The Doom of Sang Tu.
Dated August 21st, 1915.
154--The Mask of Death.
Dated August 28th, 1915.
155--The Gordon Elopement.
Dated Sept. 4th, 1915.
156--Blood Will Tell.
=PRICE, FIVE CENTS PER COPY.= If you want any back numbers of our weeklies
and cannot procure them from your news dealer, they can be obtained
direct from this office. Postage stamps taken the same as money.
STREET & SMITH, Publishers, 79-89 Seventh Ave., NEW YORK CITY