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X i >|.. | i ^ , ; . ; , ; .. | ..H- H"I - l"M 1 i " I " 1 " I"H tHH- H " H " l - I -F H " I " l "l- I -H~H-H' I. What would happen? Bah! what could happen/ Mr. Owen Loder, boIb surviving proprietor oJ the Hep- burn siuoUing works, paused in his feverish pacing to peer through the library window at that faiut glow Move the town down thcra. i"or days the ring of mystery had seemed to surround it; even the newspapers were ut fault; nothing reuche<' the big house on the hill save vague, un- nerving rumors, lie hud pooh-pooh- ed them all. and kept u smiling, re- sourceful face turned to the world; yet, in secret, ho wa.s lighting the tensest battle of his career. In one scale lay his well-known pride and Btubborn self-justification; in the other, the dead loss already of sever- al thouoani pounds and the galling fact that UlaiJChards, the rival lirm two miles away, were throwing their tontuc>lcs over all the advance con- tracts and making money fast. He- low all, there pulpitated the sickly dread that the men, rendered des- perate by their six wcoKO' .strike, might Just possibly? take some subtle vengeance into ttcir own hands. It was tho crisis of his life, and it might even "Dad! where arc you, dad?" II was his Vera's breathless whisper flt the doorway. She had burst in, her hands strained together, and eyes wide with imploring fear. "You must think of somtthing; you must end thi!? â€" you must! They have held secret meetings, with outposts, I hoar. They have turned me back, wouldn't lot the carrioge drive into Hepburn. iSoniething would have happened, I'm sure of it, only Mr. Justin Blanchard came by and said â- omething to Cordell, the leader, and got the hor.scs away. Dad, you can't, you wouldn't, let it come to a question of life and death for the Bake of a few hundreds extra a year. Oh, think!" "Think!" he repeated, fiercely. "You're a woman; you'd never un- derstand. .Someone is behind this action of their.s â€" someone is working in the dark against me for a pur- pose. If I give Way now, I may again, and again. It shall go on till it endsâ€" where it ends." "It's not only me," she persisted, faintly. "I wouldn't worry you, but there's another letter from Bernard Holly, with an enclosure for you. Ho implores you to suggest a comjirom- Ise while there's time. Will you read it?" "Where's the letter?" She held it out. Next instant it was lying in Bcraps. "Uy answer, from to-night! Let him keep away. I believed in that man at one time; to-day I name him the deepest walking fraud with- in fifty miles. See for yourself â€" if your infatuation for him hasn't blinded you cpiile! Where's all his boasted inllucnco over the men? Two years ago, when he came here to as- sist the lame vicar, he was going to change everything, with his social clu.'bs, pleasant evenings, brotherhood notions, and his 'selt-sacrifice! ' Where is he now? What is he do- ing?" "Shame! Fighting might and main to bring about jieace â€" to prove that all his efforts have not been in vain. And you know it!" she breathed. "Bah! rte is all for the men, and thorefon' my enemy. His position has 'become impossible I'll say at once what I mean. I have never do- Cnilely acknowledged his hopes of wiiming my daughter; unless he jus- tifies his attitude in this crisis I shall decline to think of it. No, ttand Ijuck, don't make it more painful for me. If he really caies for you, if ho is all he wishes to bo thought, her* is his life-chnnco to prove it. The men idolize him, you hear â€" he has spest all his money up- on them; now let him bring them to their sfnses. Ho coiikl, but ho won't. Then, hi> goes! A dreamer, a fraud; and I'fl tell him so to his face." Awed into silence she crept out. The house-keeper waited thei'e, with a face almost as troubled as her own. "1 thought I'd better speak," said she; "that llr. .Justin Illanchurd mii/lt have followed you homo. I don't like that gentleman, and I don't know why he should be loung- ing out there by tho side gulc as if he thinks of buying the house." "Out here?" iVcru's wIuIomc.'^k deepened. It had hcen one more Btilied feai' â€" tho fear that her futiicr might leorn how for months this dark, sinster, cynirol son of his busi- ness rival had been pestering her with furtive attentions. She would end it nl once. Her heart thumping, Jhe stcppefl out and down the side path, and jmused a little way from a tall figure leaning over the gate thore. "Is that you, Mr. Blanch- ard? I believe I thanked you for what you did this evening? " She laid this OS coolly as if .she had nev- »r learned to trenihlc. •Mise I.Oder! It was nothing. I'd ia far more than that every day 'or youl" he said, with hot eagrr- ice^" 'Yee. I half thought of call- ing upon your father. Why not? My Utt»r aad ho were old friends once, ano routi b« again. I think I've kept In the background very patient- ly, MLw Ijo-iitri 1 don't know why you disllko me â€" aa your face shows. Because I mQaii to change youl" •Indeed?" She nerved her»elf for the effort. "It may be becauseâ€" well, I think you won't deny that you hove helped to foment this sad miounderstanding with the abstrac't objeet of crippling us and proposing amalgamation." "A lie!" he flared out, husldly. 'You may want a man with means and power to help you here â€" perhaps sooner than you think. Oood-niglit! Aye," ho whispered to himself. "You've guessed well for a womtuil Cripple you it shall, before I let you marry Mr. Bernard Holly." Vera had barely closed the door and recrosscd the hall when she heard that quick, dear step on the gravel drive. The door was open, and her arms locked tightly around Bernard's neck in the dusk, drawing down tho haggard face to hers. "My boy!â€" at last! So white and so worried! Oh, what will be the end of this suspense? And Dad is so stern and changed. Ho sectns to think that you could have done something to avert â€" to prove that you-^" "Just it," he said, witli wl>at sounded like a stifled sob. "I have something to say to him; I aiust say it to-night â€" or nover." That I'm not to know!" The warm clasp fell away, the rapture died slowly out of her face. "^Vhat does it all mean? Why are you so strained, so quiet, so afraid I might kiss you again? There, no, I won't ask; I can trust you to do the right thing, whatever it is. Something has been said again about mo and my money, and J.hat you are playing double; you feel that you- q^ght to explain to him clearly; you want to win mtj â€" not steal me! And if he says no, you feel that 'I ought to obey him. There, now say that every woman cannot read one man's mind aright! In the library, dear!" Dazedly Bernard Holly stepped I'or- ward. Sweat-drops were beading on his forehead as ho knocked at the door and entered the glow of lamp- light. "Only me," he whispered, in answer to Mr. Lodcr's start and staro. "I won't detain you. I only came to say that I have quite fail- ed. Failtxl! All that one man could do, 1 have done. But I am barred outâ€" mistrusted. You can guess why. I have been seen coming to and from this house. They have held their final meeting, but I was locked out. It is nil over." "Hxactly! Just what I was warn- ed to expect from tho first!" He swung round to his papers, with a short, stinging laugh. He would not betray that his last tense hope had snapped here. "I knew as much; your whole work is wasted. Very good! At the first sign of trouble I'll communicate with the military; that will scotch their schemes. Failed! â€" you, who had such a hold upon them. Then that ends all hope of a settlement through forbearance and conuiion sense." "I do not say so!" Bernard said, his face working a» with inward agony that no one must understand. "Whatever happens, I will keep in with my conscience. I have tried to end the strike, although you do not believe it; some influence has been al work that J cannot fathom. 1 only admit that but for the one fact that I have been seen hero bo often it might not have happened. They would have turned to me, and taken my advice. I know them; they trust- ed me. As it is, have you realized your position? If you beat them, do you not still lose? You are weal- thy; there is yet time to meet thom fairly, to compromise. Conld you not. for your own sake-^" â- â€¢No!" Mr. Loder's voico went up to a Bhoiit. "Let tliem do their worst, and pay the jjrice. Dare ever to suggest that again, here or out- side, and, whatever my regard for you in the past, I must nsk you not to call here again upon any grounds, much less to see my daughter!" "No, no!" Bernard pleaded, faint- ly. '"I'm going. I must think again-think for all. I'll try onco more. Oood-night!" And next moment he had stumbled across tho hail and was gone. IT. It was soon after dusk, twenty-four hours later. Not ton minutes ago word had arrived that sections of tho men had been seen massing away from the town under cover of tho dusk. It could mean only one thing â€"they wore going to march upon the hill mansion itself. "Fasten every door and window,' Mr. Loder ordered. The blow hod fallen with paralyzing swiftness, and there was no one willing to risk get- ting into Hepburn with his n-(|uest for mounted police from outlying dis- tricts. "If common sense wCmt keep those madmen at bay, my revol- ver shall. But they won't daro that length. If they do-^-" He turned with a hitter snepr to Vera, who had caught pleadingly nt his arm. "Yes, Where's your llernai'd now? Here to protect you?" "He knows; that is everything." she could only whisper, white and dazed herself. "He wovild not let it come to tho worst, unless " She could not finiah. They await- ed, with staring e.ves and straine^l ears. And then, of a thrilling sud- den, came a voico and a banging nt the hall door. Vera shrank in in- stinctive fear as Justin Blanchards tall figure leaped from his horse and sprang acroM inta tho drawing- room. "Here! Mr. Loder! Vardon .-«e. but arc you the moment I heard. You must go at once. If one, there are two hun- dred men on the way here; they will wreck your house. Their safety is in numbers; the few police are power- less, taken by surprise. At once!" ••To stand and seo my house ruin- ed? Never! \Vhat can I do? What would you suggest?" he muttered, his dry lips grey with the first touch of fear ho had shown out- wardly. "No, it's uexpectedly kind of you, seeing that wo aro deserted; but I'll never leave the house to them. Perhaps, if you think there is real danger, you would persuade my daughter to " "No, sir! If you sta.y, I stay with you. They know me; they may lis- ten to me. Hang it, Mr. Loder, we arc neighbors, if competitors in trade â€" up till now. We've boon real- ly soiTT all along. No! If I can talk them back, one of yo.ur serv- ants could surely get across to our place and fetch up our men to help; they've not loft work yet. If they won't helpâ€" tho sack, to-morrow! That's mc, sir. Hark! By Jove, it's touch-and-go, though; hero they come!" "Save my house!" Mr. Loder whis- pered, in a sudden frenzy. "Keep thom back; save the place, and I'/l never forget it!" I will!" Justin Blanchard sprang to tho door, closed it, and turned. He had flashed pale, and his voico shook strangely. "Why shouldn't I help? \Vhy shotildn't I say at once what prompted me to come at such a moment, when, if ever, I can back my words with action? Mr. Loder, I don't know why your daughter should dislike mo. Heaven knows, I have not forced myself upon her; and yet. If I may say so, I'd make her the best husband; and thei-e is no reason why the two firms should not 1 combine to mutual advantage. Per- haps, as she will not put me out of anxiety,, you will spook tor her! I'll only say that, with such a hope, I'll risk my life to-night to save your house and oil in it!" Now the sound outside was clearly a confused hum of voices and it seemed to chill Mr. Lodcr's very blood. One hand clutched his re- volver; the other shook .upon Justin Dlanchard's arm. That moment! "I â€" I had half guessed it, and thought of it. She will; sho under- stands; she obeys mo. Save the house, my hoy â€" do something! Vera, you hear? Speak! Think of the house and the moneyâ€" nnd our future here. Give him seme hope, at least â€"the right to protect you!" "Never!" She had stood like one in a dream; now the indignant cry struggled from her lips. "Dad, you cannot mean it ! That man â€" I hate him! I say it now to his false face. Can't you see? He hos waited and worked for this; schemed so that he can turn tho scale one way or an- other, nnd gain his end at the cruci- al moment. I'll answer him now. No â€" never! Let him go! " Ono last pause, while .Justin Blanchard stood with teeth bared and eyes blazing. Then, just as that handful of stones crashed through the darkness into the room he strode out, cros.sod the hall, and was gone. • • • • • • "Como out! Show your face! You daren't!" A determined surging forward of the shadowy mass, and the house was surrounded. No sound coanc from it; it might hove been desert- ed. A whispering, a pause like tho indefinite quiet before a storm, and then OS by magic a long plonk swung up above tho crowd. The for- ward rush for tho main door had be- gun, indeed, when the balcony win- dow burst open. Old Mr. Loder stood there, grim and determined again, his revolver steadily levelled. "You shall have it," he thundered. "I count just five, and then â€" take oil six chambers!" "CJivo us what we a.sk!" rose the shout, in waves. "Never! One â€" twoâ€" throe " And then? One ironic cheer, and then a sort of spell seemed to grip the dramatic scene. All movement ceased, all sound was suspended, as that panting, haggard figure sprang forward from the ranks, stumbled up the balcony steps, swung back the pointed weapon, ond stretched out arms to theiu with a yearning never forgotten in Hepburn. It was Ber- nard Holly, come ut tho right mo- ment â€" come to save the situation, at tho greatest price, surely, ever de- maiulud of a man. "Men! Brothers! Give mo this one lost minute before you act; hour my lost woixl in Hepburn! You forgot the old days, you lost all your faith in mo when you discovered that the woman I lovo was daughter of the man you think you huto; but you'll hear this! ... is that you, Jim Cordell? X stood by you when your little lad Was dying; there was something that made you say you would nover for- get. Uemomber it now; let your men listen. They may oven do more when I tell thom that if I can win bock your hearts and confidence to- night I give up that love of mine, here and now. Is that a proof?" and that gasp in the faded light was his best answer. "Yes, she is here! She hears and understands. Before her, before you all, I am willing to put awny my hopes to save you to- night. Now will you trust me? It is all over; I do it tor you! Pause and think. Take as brave fellows what seenis like n defeat to-night, for the sake of your wives and chil- dren to-morrow. You have not burned the hoHSo â€" except in thought. I am only one man still, but if that effort, you may live to thank him. For this vital moment I ask you to accept my counsel, as you did once, and to leo what to-morrow brings forth. That fs all. Faces home- ward, all of us I" A dead, never-forgotfen pause; and then Jim Cordell's husky voice rang out: "Mates, X haven't stopped you. I'll only ask' â€" could a man do more than that?" Bernard had not heard that, nor the shuttling of many feet that gradually died away. The house, the trogedy, the blur of facas, had faded out. He was unconscious even of the beating heart against which his head was pillowed. That wreck- ed window was all that remained to show what might have happened but for Bernard Holly's sacrifice. • • • • • • To-day they still tell in Hepburn how the men waited in hushed groups around Bernard Holly's house, to tell him something, to hear tho doc- tor's latest word; how Mr. Justin Blanchard was hooted whenever he appeared; and how smoke poured again from the furnaces ono week later, and the clang of hammers broke tho long lethargy. They are apt to tighten their lips when asked what it was tliat touched Mr. Lod- er's heart that night. Pressed, they will declare that the cost of the compromise never found its way from that pocket, but that Miss Eera's ten thousand pounds, banked in her own right, had dwindled to as many hundreds by the day on which she wedded. They may bo wrong, but they like to tell of a return sacrifice made by such a woman for the man she loved. And what can it matter when you remember the wedding it was? â€" London Tit-Bits.-. rSE OF TOBACCO. Faeans in Its Fraise and maledic- tions on the Weed. One of the most diflicult things in the world is to get any authorita- tive conclusion about the effects of using tobacco. Literature is filled with paeans in its praise and male- dictions in equal measure says the Philadelphia Ledger. There is abun- dant, medical opinion on its evil ef- fects on the heart, on the tliaroat and lungs, on the ncrvos, and evcrj- body knows the chronic sjiioker ^lihoso appetite is ruined, digestion impaired, whose nerves Jire torn to shreds, who is a hypochondriac, a laimcntable object and a cross to his friends. On the other hand, nearly everybody smokes, and there is no easier way of starting a mutiny on land or sea than to cut off the to- bacco supply of soldier or sailor. Persons who are engaged in hard labor, or in exhausting pursuits of any kind, know that a smoke, ban- isjies fatigue, knits up iYie ravelled sleeve of care. If your dentist be complaisant he will tell you that smoking preserves the teeth and "kills the gcrjiis"; your doc'tor if he knows nothing about the subject and wants to stand high in your estima- tion, will tell you to "use tobacco, but uBC it in moderation; the doctor who has studied the subject is sure that the "abuse of tobacco" is a very bad thing. The London Lancet a conservative authority, is not stiro that the moderate use of tobac- co by persons of a certain consitu- tion and temperament is injurious; and then wo bavc tho sage advice that you are to give up the use of tobacco if you" can do so with loss wear and tear on your happiness and welfare than the continuance of the habit would cost you. And so we conie back to fundamentals : Do not sanoke it the i-esults ore honniful. But some things wo do know about tobacco : It costs a prodigious deal of money, is one of tho mos-t iniQior- tant industries in the world, and an important source of revenue to all nations. Americans consiime 7,000- 000,000 cigars annually, and the yearly increase in tho consumption is nearly 600,000,000. Smokers use 3,O(X>,000,000 oigarotles annually, and consume in other fomiifi. as in snuff, plug ond aiinoking tobacco, 315,000,000 pounds, exclusive of the tobacco exported and that used in manufacture of cigars and cigaretts. The federal treasury receives $65,- 000,000 annual revenue from the to- bacco tax; the mnnu fact ureas alone pay in salaries §10,000,000 and in wages $,'i0,000,000 a yeor, and tho annual value of the manufacturprl product in this country is upward of 5200,000.000. THE TTSE OF SOAF. It is But an Aid to Assist the S*- moval of Dust and Grims. A paper on the use of saap natur- uUy involves the consideration of e number of facts regarding the skin and its uses. Tho skin by virtue of its excretory function rids the system of an im- mense amount of the impurities held in solution in tho watery elements of the body. Moisture evaporates, leaV" ing no trace of its presence, but the more solid portions remain on the fa-urface of the skin and these, togeth- er with dust and grime, must bo re- moved if one would keep the skin healthy and up to its highest stand- ard as an excretory organ. Perhaps every one is aware that in certain parts of the world where water is scarce, the use of clean sand is employed as a cleansing agent for the skin. For tho mass of mankind the use of water is jaore convenK'nl. and is of course practically the only agent employed to rid the skin of impurities. Soap is but an aid to assist tho removal of dust and grime by virtue of its solvent properties. Soap is al- so desirable when tho water employ- ed is hard; that is, when it contains mineral properties which cause it to be less solvent than water free ircm mineral motter. It is unnecessary to say that all soap used as an aid to cleansing tiio skin should be of good quality, since it is well known that soaps contain- ing alkali in a free state are irritat- ing and make the skin dry and harsh The use of soap is generally omit- ted or restricted on parts of the body like the face, where the skin is thin and where it is not subjected to the intimate contact with dust which falls to tho lot of the hands. \Vhe'n soap is employed freq,uently on tho face, tho protective, oily sub- stances of the skin are removed to a greater extent than is compatibla with its healthy condition, and the same is true, although perhaps to a less extent, in the case of the scalp. After the use of soap-suds on the scalp, which is occasionally resorted to by most persons as a hygenic measure, the use of somo oily sub- stance may bo employed with ad- vantage. This acts as a temporary substitute until nature has had time to replenish tho hair with oil. A better plan is to wash tho scalp and hair with water in which a teaspoon- tul of vinegar has been stirred. After exposure to sun and winds, tho use of soap on the face should never be resorted to, but rather some soothing, oily preparation; as tor ex- ample, vaseline, cold cream or coco butter. As a precautionary measurt ony one of these may be used be- forehand, to prevent irritation from exposure; this is especially useful in very dry climates. It was formerly the custom to uso buttermilk for the skin, and the ap- plication of this homely remedy, as a protective against sun and wind, is doubtless all that it is claimed to be as a preservative of a good com- plexion. The use of soap on the hands in cold weather, during Exposure to winds, and in hot weather, during exposure to the sun, should be sup- plemented by the uso of an oily pre- paration for keeping the skin in a healthy state and free from tho many disorders, of greater or less severity of which weather extremes may bo the starting-point. â€" Youth's Compan- ion. Ij COLDLESS COOL, mod? I f alloi)ed off ' one man *%n help you l^y increased An Irishwoman was looking at refrigerators in a house-furnishing establishment somo weoks ago. After inquiring into the merits and quali- ties of a number of thom, si.e pur- chased the one that the salesman asKurcd hor would keep food the host. Soime dajs afterwards tho woman called and requested thenii to take that refrigerator back, as it would not keep anything better than in the old-fa.'ihloned meat-safe in the 1 artier. The salesman mildly suggested that possibly she bad not put enougji ice in it to keep the things cold. "Enough ice in it ? Wliy, is it crazy, yoz arro ? 1 don't put anny Ice in it. Shure. anything will keep cowld if you put ice in it. .1 bought f.he refrigeirator so as I wouldn't need the Ice." A WIDOW'S PORCINE FET. "Biddy," a 400-Ponnd Hog, 'Taught Good Manners. Mrs. Ellen Canby, an aged child- less widow, of English, Ind,, says o Chicago Chronicle correspondent, has a pig for a pet, and tho animal seems to show genuine allectioa for her. Biddy, as she calls th« pig, wa.s one of a too numerous family and a gift to tho widow. Hiddy has been taught to come no further into the residence than the doorwny, where sho enjoys a rug. Sh« never forgets the limit ot her privi- lege. .She always follows her mls- Iresa to the door ot the grocery, church or neighbor's residence when Mrs. Canby occasionally visits, but nover presumes upon entrance. Mrs. Canby always carried a rug for her Iirotegee on .such occasions, and, as Biddy is kept scrupulously cleun and is good mannered, she is always wel- come. Biddy weighs now about 400 pounds, ond during the lato boom in jiork Mrs. Canb.v rffu.>^ed the highest market price for her pet, excusing herself on the plea that she honestly believed the pig'-'' watchfulness and love had more than once saved the house from attack by robbers who imagine there is money in tho house. Maisde â€" "The diamond in this en- gagement ring is awfully small." Mortonâ€" "I told tho jeweller It was (or the smallest hand in the city." ONE MORE INJUS'inCE. Somo time ago, while on a holt- da,v, cycling in Ireland, a young man saw a curious sight. Turning a b«nd in the road, he saw a collection ot household furniture stcottered in every direction oiiteidc the door of a small cabin. In the midst ot this f/C«ne of disorder sat an old woman. It led him to believe that an evic- tion had taken place. Full of sjTn- pathy, lie diimiounted, and, placing a few fiilvier coins in hc» hand, aKk- fwl why she was evicted. "Ab, »hure, sir," said she. afttr pocketing the inon^, "Pat is whlto- wa.:}iiii' to-day !" :l :* K .,t--.;-v.*.-^ l\ ;..j;m...i_.