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Zurich Herald, 1926-01-14, Page 8'ED Q.4E»MA ey EDEN iP itoorr3 aNUSTRA-reo ay R.W. 5,esTEnF�$L'll 77, BEGIN HERE TO -DAY. m Michael, husband of Jenny Pendean, disappears from his home on Dart- moor. He is last seen in the company of Robert Redmayne, uncle to Jenny, when the two 'nen visit a new bunga- low being built by Michael near Fog- gintor Query. Blood is found on the floor of the. cottage and witnesses testify to hav- ing seen Robert ride away on his motor bicycle with a heavy sack be- hind the saddle. The sack is found in a rabbit hole a far distance from the scene of the supposed murder. Mark Brendon, famous criminal"in- vestigator, is engaged by Jenny to solve the mystery. Jenny goes to live with her uncle Bendigo Redmayne. Brendon calls at Bendigo's home and meets Giuseppe Doria, who works there. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. Bendigo Redmayne grunted. "Come in and see the letter," he said. "I never thought you'd fail. It's all very terrible indeed and I'm damn- ed if I understand anything about it. But one fact is clear: my brother wrote this letter and he wrote it from Plymouth;; and since he hasn't been reported from Plymouth, I feel very little doubt the thing he wanted to happen has happened." Then he turned to his niece. "We'll have a cup of tea in half an hour, Jenny. Meantime I'll take Mr. Brendon up to the tower room along with me." Mrs. Pendean disappeared into the house and Mark followed her with the sailor - They passed through a square hall full of various foreign curiosities- col- lected by the owner. Then they ascend- ed into a large, octagonal chamber, like the lantern of a lighthouse, which surmounted the dwelling. "My lookout," explained Mr. Red- mayne. "In foul weather I spend all my time up here and with yonder strong, three-inch telescope I can pick up what's doing at sea. A bunk in the corner, you see. I often sleep up here, too." "You might almost as well be afloat," said. Brendon, and the remark pleased Bendigo. "That's how I feel; and I can tell you there's a bit of movement, too, sometimes. I never wish to see bigger water than beat these cliffs during the south -easter last March. We shook to our keel, I can tell you." He went to a tall cupboard in a corner, unlocked it and brought out a square, wooden desk of old-fashioned pattern. This he opened and produced a letter which he handed to the de- tective. Brendon sat down in a chair under the open window and read this com- munication slowly. The writing was large and sprawling; it sloped slightly upward from left to right across the sheet and left a triangle of white paper at the right-hand bottom cor- ner:: "Bear Ben: It's all over. I've done in Michael Pendean and put him where only Judgment Day will find hint.. Something drove 'me to do it; but all the same Pm sorry now it's done—not for him but myself. I shall clear to -night, with luck, for France. If I can send an address later I will. Look after Jenny—she's well rid of the blighter. When things have blown over I may! come back. Tell Albert and tell Flo.: Yours, "R. 12," Brendon examined the letter and the envelope that contained it. "Have you another communication —something from the past I can corn - pare with this?" he asked. Bendigo nodded. I "I reckoned you'd want that," he answered and produced a second let- ter from his desk. It related to Robert Redmayne's engagement to be married and the writing was identical, "And what do you think he's done, Mr. Redmayne?" Brendon asked, pock- eting the two communications. "I think he's done what he hoped to do. At this time of year you'll see a dozen Spanish and Brittany onibn boats lying down by the Barbican at Plymouth, every day of the week. And if poor Bob got there, no doubt plenty of chaps would hide him when be 'offered 'em honey enough to make it worth while. Once aboard • one of those sloops, lied be about as safe as be would be anywhere. They'd land him at St. Malo; or somewhere down there, and he'd give you the slip." "And, until It was found out that he was mad, we might hear no more about bin." "Why should it the found out that ha was mad?" asked Bendigo: "He was madwhen he killed this innocent man, no doubt, because, none but a lunatic Would have done such an awful thing, or been so cunning after—with the sort of chii:dish cunning that gave hire away,fram the start. But;.onee he'd Bene what this twist in his brain drove him la do, then I judge that his mad- ness very likely left him. If you caught hini to -morrow, you'd possibly find him as sane as yourself. --except on that one subject. He'd worked up his old hatred of Michael Pendean, as a shirk - Or in the war, until it festered hi his l ed a:>t', poisoned his niirid, so as he couldn't get it under. That's how I .read it. I had a pretty good ,contempt for the poor chap myself:` and was properly savage with my niece, when she wedded him against our wishes; but niy feeling didn't turn my head, and I felt glad to hear that Pendean was an honest roan, who did the best he could at the Moss Depot." Brendon considered. "A very sound view," he said, "and likely to be correct. On the strength of this letter, we may conclude that when he went home, after disposing of the body under Berry Head, your brother must have disguised himself in some way and taken an early train from Paignton to Newton Abbey and from Newton Abbey to Plymouth, He would already have been there and lying low before the hunt began." "That's how I figure it," answered the sailor. "When did you last see him, Mr. Redmayne?" "Somewhere about a month ago. He came over for the day with Miss Reed —the young woman he was going to marry." "Was he all right then?" "Bendigo considered and scratched in his red beard. "Noisy and full of chatter, but much as usual." "Did he mention Mr. and Mrs. Pen - dean?" "Not a word. He was full up with his young woman. They meant to be , married in late autumn and go abroad for a run to see my brother Albert." "He may correspond with Miss Reed if he gets to France?" "I can't say what he'll do. Suppose you catch him presently? How would the law stand? A man goes mad and. commits a murder. Then you nab himend he's as sane as judge. You can't hang him for what he did when he was off his head, and you can't shut him up in a lunatic asylum if he's sane." "A nice problem, no doubt," admit- ted Brendon, "but be sure the law will take no risks. A homicidal maniac, no matter how sane he is between tines, is not going to run loose any more after killing a man." "Well, that's all there is to it, de- tective. If I hear again, I'll let the "Why should it be found that he was mad?" asked Bendigo. police know; and if you take him, of course you'll let me and his brother know at once. It's a very ugly thing for his family. He did good work in the war and got honors; and- if he's mad, then the war made him mad." "That would be taken very fully into account, be sure. I'm sorry, both .for him and for you, Mr. Redmayne." Bendigo looked sulkily from under his tangled eyebrows. "I shouldn't feel no very great call to give him up to the living death of an asylum if he hove in here some night." "You'd do your duty—that I will bet," replied Brendon. They descended to the dining -room. where Jenny Pendean was waiting to pour out tea. All was very silent and Mark had leisure to observe the 'young widow. "What shall you do and where may I count upon finding you if I want you, Mrs. Pendean?" he asked pres- ently. She looked at Redmayne, not at Brendon, as she answered. "1 am in Uncle Bendigo's hands. I know he will let nie stop here for the present." "For keeps," the old sailor declared. l "Thin is your home now, Jenny, and I'm very glad to have you here. 1 There's only yon and your Uncle Al. r bert and me now, I reckon, for'I don't i think we shall ever see poor Bob again." An elderly woman come in, "Doris .be wishful to know when you'll want the boat," she said. "I should like it immediately, If possible,►? begged Brendon. "lluoh time has been lost," "Tell them to get aboard, then," directed Bendigo, and in five minutes Mark was taking his leave. "I'll let youhave the earliest Intl - !nation of the capture, Mr. Redmayne, he said. "If your poor brother still lives, it ,seems impossible that he should long be free. The present Con - Robinson Crusoe's ri dely,carved gun, another sensation' on the an- tiquity market in London, which has been insured' for $10,000 by the own- er, Charles J. Sawyer. It is of 1700 vintage. dition must be one of great torment and anxiety—to him ---Land for his own sake I hope he will soon surrender or be found—if not in England, then in France." "Thank you," answered the older man quietly. "What you say is true. I regret the delay myself now. If he is heard of again by me, I'll telegraph to Scotland Yard, or get 'ein to do so at Dartmouth. I've slung a telephone wire into the town as you. see.", They stood again under the flag- staff on the plateau, and Brendon stu= died the rugged cliff line and the fields of corn that sloped away inland above it. The district was very lonely and only the rooftree of .a solitary. farm- house appeared a mile or moredistant to the west. "If he should come to you—and I have still a fancy that he inay do so —take him in and let us know," said Brendon. "Such a necessity will be unspeakably painful, I fear, but I am very sure you will not shrink from it, Mr. Redmayne." The rough old man had grown more amiable during the •detective's visit. It was clear that a natural aversion for Brendon's business no longer ex- tended to the detective himself. "Duty's duty," he said, "though God keep me from yours. If I can do any- thing, you may trust me to do it. Ire's not likely to come here, 1 think; but he might try and get over to Albert down south. Good-bye to you." (To be continued.) Childless Women. In childless women's eyes A misery of lacking lies; Under their gaiety is woe And this, one feels, they do not know: The glad joy of the, blue bird wing- ing— The freshness of the morning sing- ing— The depths of roses brightly blowing— The soul of things they should be knowing -- In childless women's eyes There shines no glimpse of paradise-- Their aradise—Their loss, who miss the high white cross Of motherhood, eternal loss. —George Elliston. Overheard in the Nursery. • "And was mamma's darling frighten- ed when it thundered?" "No, mamma., I wasn't, frightened, but nuraie was, ever so much, I know, cos' daddy had to take her on his knee." The Job That's Mine, Thene's a ,joy divine in the job that'd mine, however humble the task; Though it sheds no Lustre v'bere'by shine, It -affords me all. I can ask. There'sthe honest pay i receive each (lay And the Joy of each task begun, Which at night le finished and put away When the day with its carers is dons. There's the joyous thrill of the hours that 1111 All the golden span of the day, And a song that speeds me on with a will As I busily toil away. It,a little I care if I do not share In the boast of the world's acclaim, If along my way I may always fare With the pride of an honest name. If the thing I do serves a purpose true, Then it's ever I'll be content, And bravely I'1.1 strive my aim to pur- sue At the task whereon I em bent; For I ask no odds. of the fickle gods Of chanes or good fotrune that be; it's the path of duty he worker treads, And it's ever the path for me. Oh, the heart of me: sings a song of glee As I busily ply my task, And I'm always as happy as I can be And have all I can honestly ask. All my days I spend in serving the end Which the skill of my hands coin- bine, As joyously over each task I bend. -- In the glorious job that's mine! —Sidney Warren Mase. Two Towns. There was a mighty city Upon the isle of Crete, Its palace had a'thousand roometi .. The captains of its fleet Took tribute from all lands that lay About the narrow seas; ,The merchandise of half the world• Was piled upon its quays, It stood for twiee a thousand years, 'Then passed in night and flame: -- This much the scholars' spades have shown; But no man knows its name. There was a town called I11um, .A. village on a hill, Where yellow -haired barbarians came . To barter wool and fill Their open boats with beads .and. bronze And oily skins of wine. A little place, a humble place, • Virith nothing great or fine ' .But Iliums name is ringing.stili Like one clear bugle blown, • And all the chiefs of Ilium s'zc�&il1 walk beside our owe, ri O:ggreat forgotten city, • Sleep in your nameless 'tomb!" Nor ships, nor :gold, nor fighting men Could turn aside your doom. 0 little town of Ilium, • You live anrong th'edead Because a blind roan made a song With which to win his bread. Take warning, mighty cities,, And kings of splendid lands: Be goad to singing beggars; Your fate is in their hands. • —Ralph Linton, Not Afraid to Face Powder. "She seems to prefer army men to all others." "They're not afraid to face powder, I guess." Seventy-five million whitefish eggs have been collected in Lake Winnipeg "for the hatchery at Gull Harbour, states a report of the Dept. of Marine and Fisheries. TYPOGRAPHICAL CLERIC RSV. only does his own I ev.'I". 'Walton, of St, Andrew, 1.•aliibetlr, h,ngland, not t y d reprairieg but also ln•luts his own carols and handbills on 0, printing pine+ss which he made himself. us printed the Christmas cardsfor his whole parish. 1....••.iw,w�;: alt. I Laugh and Grow Fit! There . are pliysileal .cwitusiSts who, KWith other exercises/ for titnes's, have one Tor laughing.. They say that to enjoy an imaginary laugh Is to bring Iinto play certain. nuesles of the body which, by being used, yield benefit. , Laughing it an infectious tondo, One eaa se+1doln ref,nln from ' laughing when lelthezls, are laugh.inng, SomeJliow it transforms a dull day into one of I brightness, and transfigures .a drab en- Yironanent to one of• blitheness., So few of us know bow to laugh, We 'heard years ago, from one of the Ipeetof "'The loud laugh that speaks e, the vacant mind": and some of us have refrained from it because we did not desiire oothers to misjudge ucs•! But poete are often wrong. They some tines emphasize the exception -rather than elle rule. It.cnn be proved theft laughter is a sign of Stealth, fitness, buoyancy. A smite ib not the same as a laugh. It m,ay be more polite and refined, but refinement ie not necessarily natural. Whenever there is repession there is also a tendency to pose and deprive. oneself of a natural emotion. I have noticed that the people who laugh the most -are the healthiest. their out look on life is bright; they are always facing the sun, and they have learned to leave the shadows be- hind and see the bent in all things and all people. It is proverbiaa that di'sase is ram- pant in darkness. In sunlight and fresh air the microbes perish Cannot we Learn 'from that to live in,every sense so that, if there is any- thingto laugh at, we will laugh and become better fitted for the battle' of life? A good laughs -does one good; that is why we allways have room for ,our F. W. Thomases, and John Henrys. Writing a few weeks ago of Charlie Chaplin, a jouenaiist -said: "Ile is the greatest. man, of his time, dispensing medicine to twelve millions of people every day." So let us langhl Even if we have noshing to laugh at, let us laugh be- cause everything is beyond the state of being laughed at! It will stand us in good stead when this machine of our body is wearing down. Long ages ago, Solomon said, "A merry heart doetii good like a medicine," . We' all know this to be true. Spend less • on medicines; save money by learning to laugh. One Hundred Years of Buses. One hundred years ago an omnibus was seen for the first time at Nantes, in France. To -day this father of all buses has 38,200 descendants in Lon- don) alone. It was riot until 1829, hovrever, that the fist omnibus. appeared in London, therefore the, celebration of their cen- tenary should not take place t41.1929. Women never 'travelled on top in the early days. It waseonsddered un- womanly to do so, and certainly crino- lines would have been difficult to ne- gotiate on the *little iron step -plates that did duty as staire. 17,riien the London General Omnibus•. Compaaly began to run omnibuses • pro- vided with •stairs women travelled on top, but then a dif ieulty`arose, for the women's •ankles could not be conceal- ed from the view of people walking in the s'treete•, and, as ankles were' not then fashionable, "decency" boards, which now enclose the upper part of the omnibuses, were invented, and these coneeale.d feminine ankdee from the public gaze. The last horse-drawn General omni - bile made its farewell journey between London Bridge and Moorgate Street on October 25th, 1911. s Alchemy.. When Norah played the concertina What did Norah see, Red-handed Norah in the kitchen chair Jiggling a tired knee? . When her mouth opened and .her hair fell loose And her blue eyes stared at space What brought the wild rosepink to her cheeks And shone like a light in her faoe? Holy Ireland, green Ireland • She was praising with jigs. and•reels, Its -sheep upon the furze -bright hills, iter roads, deep -cut with wheelie Its round gray bridges., fairy trees, The hedge with washing strewn, The shouting inn the market -place, The great rqun;d Irish moon; With tappings of her worn -toed shoes, With wagging of her head ' She was praising Ireland's. living Shg_was keening Ireland's dead— Wlhein Norah played the concertina Then wary she changed and stirred, Oh, she was the lamb of white Saint ' Bride, Saint Patrick's,singdng bird! I+)lizabeth Coats'rvorth. A Poet's Theme. In the hands of the 'true :artist the theme, or "work," is, but a masa of, oiay, of which anything .(within the compass of the mase and quality of the clay) may be fashioned at will, or according to the skill of the workman.' Ills genius., to be sure, is manifested, . very distinctly, in the Choice of the clay. It should be neither flue nor-.'toaree,"ttbstractly, but just So fine or to coarse, just so plastic or o rigid, as may best serve the purposes of the thing to be wrought, of ,the idea to be made out, or, more exactly, of, the impression to be Conveyed. -Poe, Portraits carried out in colored Wait, once popular, are now returnile to. The ax used is. a .s favor. w of ,peCall!y hard kind, to prevent it melting.. BORDERED MATERIALS A FEA- TURE OF ATTRACTIVE FROCI{S. Bordered materials are to be A__ vogue in themselves for the coming season. This slender -fitting frock, of . rich bordered crepe achieves lower fulness by means of groups, of small tucks at the front and back of the hips. Again let me emphasize that to be smart, the ,tuck is made on the in- side of you/frock and only the seam shows on the outside.,The collar turns down, and the opeing at the front is cut low enough to allow the frock to slip on over the head. The long full sleeves are joined to the; short kimono -shoulders and gathered into narrow bands at the wrists. The liagram shows the 'simple design, of No. 1095, which is in sizes 34, 36, 88; 40, 42 and 44 inches bust. Size 83• bust requires 3% yards 36 or 40-inch,i or 2% yards 54 -inch bordered ma- terial. Price 20 cents. The designs illustrated in our' new Fashion . Book are advance styles for the home dressmaker, and the woman or girl who desires to wear garments dependable ..for taste, simplicity and economy will find her desires fulfilled in our patterns. Price of the book 10 cents the copy. HOW TO. ORDER PATTERNS. Write your name and address plain.` ly, giving number and size of such patterns as you want. Enclose 20c in , stamps or •coin (coin preferred; wrap it carefully) for each, number, and. address your order to Pattern Dept., Wilson Publishing Co., 73 West Ade- laide St., Toronto. Patterns sent by return mail. Can You Invent Things? In 'a list of "wants" supplied to the' Institute' of Patentees by the British War Office appear the following items,: A bullet-proof pneumatic tyre un- affected by extremes of climatic sheat" or cold, giving the same intensity at ,pressure per square inch on the, ground and the same res'Llience as the stand- ard pneumatic tyre. Means of el urinating send and -dust from carburettor air supply of motor vehicles used in desert countries (wire gauzes are useless in this, .cenneotion). A, brake lever (foot or hand) • • to- getter with Inechanical 01' other trane- missdon for operating the brakes of a trailer from the driver's seat of a tow- ing vehicle. Secret wireless telegraphy. Transmission of speech by light: -: A rubber to stand prolonged storage and the effect of tropical elimates. ty .. Childhood Innocence. "Why, dad, this is roast beef"! ax. claimed Wifilie at dinner one evening, when a guest of honor was pre"sent. "Of course," said the father. "What of that?" "Why, you told mother this morning that you were going to bring an oil muttonhead home for dinner this even- angl" "Children should be allowed to take risks," said Dr. Evelyn Saywell, or Harley St,, London, recently. "The baby who tumbles about freely rarely hurts hin self, as he fa>`ls naturally with relaxed muscles." Cloth entirely produced in Sussex, from the sheep's back to the woven and dyed material, was recently ex- hibited in,hondon- FOR HOME BUILDERS Detailed information coneerning planning, building, financing, dee oi'atinng,:furnishing and gardening is contained in the MacLean Build - ere' Guide. Profusely illustrated. Fifty-two •pages. Send 20o for a copy or $1,00 fee two years' sub— scription (8 irssues). Questions answered. ala0Lean Building A.e- ports, Ltd., 844 Adelaide St. "West, • Toronto.