The Sulphur Springs Gazette. (Sulphur Springs, Tex.), Vol. 47, No. 14, Ed. 1 Friday, April 2, 1909 Page: 3 of 8
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34*
oven, a writer, summer! n« a ear Port Aa-
sandal*. Miss Patricia confided to Dos*
ovan that ah* feared her brother Henry,
who ruined by a bank failure, had con-
stantly threatened her for money from
his father's will, of whloh Miss Patricia
was guardian. They came to Pert
Annandale to escape Henry.
CHAPTER H.—Donovan sympathised
with the two women. He learned of Miss
Helen’s annoying suitor. He also re-
alised that he had almost fallen In love
with the younger woman.
" ■ _ _ \
CHAPTER III.—Donovan discovered an
Reginald Oil-
Intruder, who proved to be
leapt*, annoying suitor
US# Helen
peared
Holbrook. Qlllespie
the following morning.
for the hand of
disap-
m
rough sailor ap-
Do:
r.u *
CHAPTER TV—A
peared and was ordered away. Donovan
saw Miss Holbrook and her father meet
on friendly terms.
! CHAPTER V.r-Donovan fought an Ital-
ilan assassin. .He was brought face to
face with the man he supposed was Hol-
brook, but who said he was Hartrldge,
a canoe-maker. He left surlily.
c's presence. Miss Pst said that
Helen had been missing for a few
CHAPTER VII.—While riding In »
launch, the Italian sailor attempted td
molest the trio, but failed. Miss Pat an-
nounced ber intention of fighting Henry
Holbrook and pot seeking another hiding
ler father,
in a night
;• s V
kT- '
! CHAPTER VTII.—Duplicity of
Helen was confessed by the youi
She admitted conniving with her
despite her aunt's precautions,
meeting with Donovan.
CHAPTER IX.—The three went for a
long ride the following day. That night,
disguised as a' nun, Miss Helen stole
from the house.. Shq met Reginald Qll-
lespie, who told her his love. Qlllespie
was confronted by Donovan, but escaped.
CHAPTER X.—At the town postoflic*
Mias Helen, unseen except by Donovan,
slipped a draft Into the hand of the Ital-
ian sailor. She also signaled her fathen
For ten days all was -quiet.
CHAPTER XI.—Miss Pat and Donovan
“took in” the canoe carnival. A yoi
> j lady resembling Miss Helen Holbr<
---observed alone In a canoe, when
young
•lbroon
was observed alone in a canoe, when
Helen was thought, to have been at home.
5 CHAPTER
pto and t
$20,000 for
to spend It.
XU.—Donovan met Qilles-
giving Helen
md then left
pie and the latter confided giving Hel
her father, who had then
ipf<
m:
B:
RSIS'
jGHIesple toid of the queer
the Holbrook affairs.
CHAPTER Xm.—Miss Helen and Don-
ovan met In the qight. She told him Qll-
lespie was nothing to her, He confessed
his love for her.
W-
CHAPTER XIV.—Donovan
Gil-
found
gged am} bound In a cabin, in-
by the villalnoui Italian and
. He released him and together
bested the sailor. Returning they
observed Holbrook and Helen in con-
versation. . r : ,
CHAPTER XV.-^Both Qlllespie and
Donovan admitted love for Helen. Call-
ing herself Rosalind «. "voice” appealed
to Donovan tor help. 8he told, him
to the canoe-maker’s home and
no Injury befell him. He went.
to go
see that
i
-Vv- ’ i, r *
I
t
£- v! -
mm
if
CHAPTER XVI.
% An Odd Affair at Red data.
*As I rode through Port Annandale
the lilting strains of a waits floated
from the casino, and I caught a
glimpse Of the lake’s cincture of lights.
My head was none too clear from its
crack on the cabin floor, and my chest
was growing sore and stiff from the
slash of the Italian’s knife; but my
spirits were high, and my ears rang
with memories of the Voice. Helen
had given me a commission, and every
fact of my life faded into insignificance
compared to this. The cool night air
rushing by refreshed me. ' I was eager
for the next turn of the wheel, and
my cariosity ran on to the boat-ma-
ker's house.
I came now to a lonely sweep, where
the road ran through a heavy wood-
land, and the cool, moist air of the
forest rose round me. The lake, I
knew, lay close at band, and the Hart-
ridge cottage was not, eft I reckoned
my distances, very far ahead. I had
drawn in my horse to consider the
manner of my approach to the boat-
maker’s, and was logging along at an
easy trot when a rifle-shot rang out on
my left, from the direction of the
aroek, and my horse shied sharply
and plunged on at a wild gallop. He
ran several hundred yards before I
could check him, and then I turned
and rode slowly back, peering into the
forest’s black shadow for the foe. I
paused and waited, with the horse
dancing crazily beneath me, but the
woodland presented an inscrutable
front. I then rode on to the unfenced
strip of wood where I had left my
horse before.
I began this narrative with every
intention of telling the whole truth
touching my adventures at Annandale,
and I cannot deny that the shot from
the wood had again shaken my faith
in Helen Holbrook. She had sent me
to the Tippecanoe on an errand of her
own choosing, and I had been fired on
from ambush near the place to which
she had sent me. I fear that my tower
of faith that had grown so tall and
strong shook on its foundations; but
once more I dismissed my doubts, just
as I had dismissed other doubts and
about her. My fleeting
jpf her in the window of St.
Agatha's less than an hour b.-fore
upon me, and the tower
the stars, steadfast and se-
my revolver in the side pocket of my
Norfolk jacket. A backboard filled
with young folk from the summer col-
ony passed me, and then the utter si-
lence of the country held the world.
In a moment I had reached the canoe-
maker’s cottage and entered the gate.
I went at once to the front door and
knocked. I repeated my knock several
times, but there was no answer. The
front window blinds w. re closed tight.
The houseboat was effectually
screened by shubbery, and I had de-
scended half a dozen steps before I
saw a light in the windows. It oc-
curred to me that as I had undoubted-
ly been sent to Red Gate for some pur-
pose, I should do well not to defeat It
by any clumsiness of my own; so I
proceeded slowly, pausing several
times to observe the lights below. I
heard the Tippecanoe slipping by with
the subdued murmur of water at
night; and then a lantern flashed on
deck and I heard voices. Some one*
was landing from a boat in the creek.-
This seemed amiable enough; as the
lantern-bearer helped a man in the
boat to clamber to the platform, and
from the open door of the shop a
broad shaft of light shone brightly
upon the two men. The man with the
lantern was Holbrook, alias Hartridge,
beyond a doubt; the other was a stran-
ger. Holbrook caught the painter Of
tjte boat and silently made It fast.
“Now,” he said, “come in'.”
They crossed the deck and entered
the boat-maker’s shop, and I crept
down where I could peer in at an open
port-hole. The men remained at the
farther end of the house—it was, I
should say, about 100 feet long—
which, without formal division, was
fitted as a sitting room, with a piano
In one corner, and a long settle
against the wall. In the center was
a table littered with books and peri-
odicals; and a woman’s sewing basket,
interwoven with bright ribbons, gave
a domestic touch to the place. On the
inner wall hung a pair of foils and
masks. Pictures from illustrated jour-
nals — striking heads or outdoor
scenes—were pinned here and there.
The new-comer stared about, twirling
a Tweed cap nervously in his hands,
while Holbrook carefully extinguished
the lantern and put it aside. His vis-
itor was about 50, taller than he, and
swarthy, with a grayish mustache, and
hair white at the temples. His eyes
were large and dark, but even with the
length of the room between us I
marked their restlessness; aqd now
that he spoke it was in a succession
of quick rushes of words that were
difficult to follow.
Holbrook pushed a chair toward the
stranger and they faced each other for
A Rifle-Shot Rang Out and My Horse
Shied Sharply.
a moment, then with a shrug of his
shoulders the old man sat down. Hol-
brook was iq white flannels, with a
blue scarf knotted in his shirt collar.
He dropped Into a big wicker chair,
crossed his legs and folded his arms.
“Well,” he said in a wholly agree-
able tone, “you wanted to see me, and
here I am.”
“You are well hidden,” said the
other, still gazing about.
“I Imagine I am, from the fact that
it has taken you seven years to find
me.”
"I haven’t been looking for you
seven years,” replied the stranger,
hastily; and his eyes again roamed
the room.
The men seemed reluctant to ap-
proach the business that lay between
them, and Holbrook wore an air of in-
difference, as though'the impending in-
terview did not concern him particu-
larly; The eyes of the older man fell
upon the beribboned work-basket. He
nodded toward it, his eyes lighting un-
pleasantly.
‘‘There seems to be a woman,” he
remarked with a sneer of implica-
tion.
“Yes,” replied Holbrook, calmly,
“there is; that belongs to my daugh
ter.’’
“•V^ere is she?” demanded the oth-
_ icing anxiously about
“In bed, 1 fancy. You need have no|
fear of her.” s
Silence fell upon them again. Their
affairs were difficult, and Holbrook,
waiting patiently for the other to
broach his errand, drew out his to-
bacco pounch and pipe and began to
smoke.
“Patricia is here and Helen is with
her,” said the visitor.
“Yes,' we are all here, it seems,” re-
marked Holbrook, dryly. “It’s a nice
family gathering.”
“I suppose you haven’t seen them'’”
demanded the visitor.
“Yes and no. I have no wish to meet
them; but I’ve had several narrow
escapes. They have cut me off from
my walks; but I shall leave here
shortly.”
“Yes, you are going, you are go-
ing—” began the visitor, eagerly.
“I am going, but not' until after you
have gone,” said Holbrook. “By some
strange fate we are all here, and it is
best for certain things to be settled
before we separate again. I have tried
to keep out of your way; I have sunk
my identity; I have relinquished the
things of life that men hold dear—
honor, friends, ambition, and now you
and I have got to have a settle-
ment.”
“You seem rather sure of yourself,”
sneered the older, turning uneasily in
his chair.
“I am altogether sure of myself. I
have been a fool, but I see the error
of my ways and I propose to settle
matters with you now and here. You
have got to drop your game of annoy-
ing Patricia; you’ve got to stop using
your own daughter as a spy—”
“You lie, you lie!” roared the other,
leaping to his feet. “You cannot in-
sinuate that m/ daughter is not act-
ing honorably toward Patricia.”
My mind had slowly begun to grasp
the situation and to identify the men
before me. Holbrook, alias Hartridge,
the boat-maker of the Tippecanoe, was
not Henry Holbrook, but Henry’s
brother, Arthur! and I sought at once
to recollect what I knew of him. An
instant before I had half turned to
go, ashamed of eavesdropping upon
matters th^t did not concern me; but
the Voice that had sent me held to
the window. It was some such meet-
ing as this that Helen must have
feared when she sent me to the house-
boat, and every things else must await
the ifisue of this meeting.
“You had better sit down, Henry,”
said Arthur Holbrook, quietly. “And
I suggest that you make less noise.
This is a lonely place, but there are
human beings within a hundred
miles.”
Henry Holbrook paced the floor a
moment and then flung himself into
a chair again, but he bent forward
angrily, nervously beating his hands
together. Arthur went on speaking,
his voice shaking with passion.
“I want to say to you that you have
deteriorated until you are a common
damned blackguard, Henry Holbrook!
You are a blackguard and a gambler.
And you have made murderous at-
tempts on the life of your sister; you
drove her from Stamford and you
tried to smash her boat out here in
the lake. I saw the whole transaction
that afternoon, and understood it all
—how you hung off there In the Stilet-
to and sent that beast to do your dirty
work.”
“I didn’t follow her here; I didn’t
follow her here!” raged the other.
^“No; but you watched ,and waited
until you traced me here. You were
not satisfied with what I had done for
you. You wanted to kill me before I
could tell Pat the truth; and if it
hadn’t been for that man Donovan
your’assassin would have stabbed me
at my door.” Arthur Holbrook rose
and flung down bis pipe so that the
coals leaped from it. “But it’s all over
now—this long exile of mine, this pur-
suit of Pat, this hideous use of your
daughter to pluck your chestnuts from
the fire. By God, you’ve got to quit—
you’ve got to go!”
“But I want my money—I want my
money!” roared Henry, as though in-
sisting upon a right; but Arthur ig-
nored him, and went on.
“You were the one who was strong;
and great things were expected of
you, to add to the traditions of family
honor; but our name is only men-
tioned with a sneer where men re-
member it at all. You were spoiled
and pampered; you have never from
your early boyhood had a thought that
was not for yourself alone. You were
always envious and jealous of any4
body that came near you, and not least
of me; and when I saved you, when I
gave you your chance to become a
man at last, to regain the respect you
had flung away so shamefully, you did
not realize it, you could not realize it;
you took it as a matter of course, aa
though I had handed you a cigar. I
ask you now, here in this place, wherl
I am known and respected—J ask you
here, where I have toiled with my
hands, whether you forget why I am
here?”
■ "I must have my money; Patricia
must make the division,” replied Hen-
ry, doggedly.
“Certainly! Certainly! I devoutly
hope she will give it to you; you need
fear no interference from me. The
-sooner you get it and fling it away the
better. Patricia has been animated by
the best motives in withholding it;
she regarded it as a sacred trust to ad-
minister for your own good, but now I
want you to have your money.”
“If I can have my share, if you will
persuade her to give it. I will pay you
all I owe you—” Henry began, eagerly.
f “What you owe me—what you owe
me!” and Arthur bent toward his
brother and laughed—a laugh that was
not good to hear. “You would give me
money—money—you would pay me
money for priceless things!”
He broke off suddenly, dropping bis
arms at his sides helplessly.
“There is no use in trying to talk
tS rou; we use a different vocabulary.
Henry.”
"But that trouble with Gillespie—if
Patricia knew—”
“Yes; if she knew the truth! And
you never understood, you are incap-
able of understanding, that it meant
something to me to lose my sister out
of my life. When Helen died”—and
his voice fell and he paused for a mo-
ment, as a priest falters sometimes,
gripped by some phrase in the office
that touches hidden depths in his own
experience, “then when Helen died
there was still Patricia, the noblest
sister men ever had; but you robbed
me of her—you robbed me of her!”
He was deeply moved and, as he
controlled himself, he walked to the
little table and fingered the ribbons of
the work-basket.
"I haven’t those notes, if that’s what
you’re after—I never had them,” he
said. “Gillespie kept tight hold of
them.”
“Yes; the vindictive old devil!”
“Men who have been swindled are
usually vindictive,” replied Arthur,
grimly. "Giltfespie is dead. I suppose
the executor of his estate has those
papers; and the executor is his son.”
“ “The fool. I’ve never been able to
get anything out of him.”
“If he’s a fool it ought to be all the
easier to get your pretty playthings
away from him: Old Gillespie really
acted pretty decently about the whole
business. Your daughter may he able
to get them away from the boy; he’s
infatuated with her; he wants to mar-
ry her, it seems.”
“My daughter is not in this matter,”
said Henry, coldly, and then anger mas-
tered him again. “I don’t believe he
has them; you have them, and that’s
why I have followed you here. I’m go-
ing to Patricia to throw myself on
her mercy, and that ghost must not
rise up against me. I want them; I
have come to get those notes.”
I was aroused by a shadow-like
touch on my arm, and I knew without
seeing who it was that stood beside
me. A faint hint as of violets stole
upon the air; her breath touched my
cheek as she bent close to the little
window, and she sighed deeply as In
relief at beholding a scene of peace.
Arthur Holbrook still stood with
bowed head by the table, his back to
his brother, and I felt suddenly the
girl’s hand clutch my wrist. She with
her fresher eyes upon the scene saw,
before I grasped it, what now occurred.
Henry Holbrook had drawn a revolver
from his pocket and pointed It full at
his brother’s back. We two at the
window saw the weapon flash menac-
ingly; but suddenly Arthur Holbrook
flung round as his brother cried:
“I think you are lying to me, and I
want those notes—I want those notes,
I want them now! You must have
them, and I can’t go to Patricia until
I know they’re safe.”
He advanced several steps and his
manner grew confident as he saw that
he held the situation in his own grasp.
I wduld have rushed in upon them but
the girl held me back.
“Wait! Wait!” she whispered.
Arthur thrust his hands into the
side pockets of his flannel jacket and
nodded his head once or twice.
“Why don’t you shoot, Henry?”
“I want those notes,” said Henry
Holbrook. “You lied to me about
them. They were to have been de-
stroyed. I want them now, to-night.” • -
"If you shoot me you will undoubt-
edly get them much easier,” said Ar-
thur; and he lounged away toward the
wall, half turning his back, while the
point of the pistol followed him. “But
the fact is, I never had them; Gilles-
pie kept them.”'
Threats cool quickly, and I really
had not much fear that Henry Hol-
brook meant to kill his brother; and
Arthur’s indifference to his danger
was having its disconcerting effect on
Henry. The pistol barrel wavered;
but Henry steadied himself and his
clutch tightened on the butt. I again
turned toward the door, but the girl’s
hand held me back.
~“Wait,” she whispered again. "That
man is a coward. He will not shoot.”
The canoe-maker had been calmly
talking, discussing the disagreeable
consequences of murder in a tone of
half-banter, and he now stood directly
under the foils. Then in a flash he
snatched one of them, flung it up with
an accustomed hand, and snapped it
across his brother’s knuckles. At the
window we heard the slim steel hiss
through the air, followed by the rattle
of the revolver as it struck the ground.
The canoe-maker’s foot was on it in-
stantly; he still held the foil.
“Henry,” he said in the tone of one
rebuking a child, “you are bad enough,
but I do not intend that you shall be
a murderer. And now I want you to
go; I will not treat with you; I want
nothing more to do with you! I re-
peat that I haven’t got the notes.”
He pointed to the door with the
foil. The blood surged angrily in his
face; but his voice was in complete
control as he went on.
“Your visit has awakened me to a
sense of neglected duty, Henry. I
have allowed you to persecute our sis-
ter without raising a hand! I have no
other business now but to protect her.
Go back to your stupid sailor and tell
him that if I catch him in any mis-
chief on the lake or here I shall cer-
tainly kill him.”
I lost any further words that passed
between them, as Henry, crazily
threatening, walked out upon the deck
to his boat; then from the creek came
the threshing of oars that died away
In a moment. When I gazed into the
room again Arthur Holbrook was
blowing out the lights.
"I am grateful; I am so grateful,”
faltered the girl’s voice; “but you
must not be seen here. Please go
now!” I had taken her hands, feeling
that I was about to lose her; but she
freed them and stood away from me in
the shadow.
"We are going away—we must leave
here! I can never see you again,” she
whispered.
. In the starlight she was Helen, by
every test my senses could make; but
by something deeper I knew that she
was not the girl I had seen in the
window at St. Agatha’s. She was
more dependent, less confident and
poised; she stifled a sob and came
close. Through the window I saw Ar-
thur Holbrook climbing up to blow out
the last light.
“I could have watched myself, hut
I was afraid that sailor might come;
and it was he that fired at you in the
road. He had gone to Glenarm to
watch you and keep you away from
here. Uncle Henry came back to-day
and sent word that he wanted to see
my father, and I asked you to come to
help us.”
“I thank you for that.”
“And there was another man—a
stranger, back there near the road; I
could not make him out, but you will
be careful—please! You must think
very ill of me for bringing you into all
this danger and trouble.”
“I am grateful to you. Please turn
all your trouble over to me.”
“You did what I asked you to do,”
she said, "when I had no right to ask,
but I was afraid of what might happen
here.' It is all right now and we are
going away; we must leave this place.”
“But I shall see you again.”
“No! Yoli have—you have—Helen.
You don’t know me at all! You will
find your mistake to-morrow.”
She was urging me toward the
steps that led up to the house. The
sob was still in her throat, but she was
laughing, a little hysterically, in her
relief that her father had come off un-
scathed.
“Then you must let me find It out
to-morrow; I will come to-morrow be-
fore you go.”
“No! No! This is good-by,” she
said. "You would not be so unkind as
to stay, when I am so troubled, and
there is so much to do!”
We were at the foot of the stairway,
and I heard the shop door snap shut
“Good-night, Rosalind! ”
“Good-by; and thank you!” she
whispered.
Try a Bucket of
OUK FAMOUS “ALAMO” COFFEE
(To be Continued)
Pig on tier back.
Mr. Warner Settle, of Bruce, has a'
sow that is worth having.
During high water last week the sow
and pig were canght on a temporary
island in Shagg's creek and were sup-
posed to be drowned. The next
morning while a party of gentlemen
were looking at the creek, they were
surprised to see something strike oat
from the island, and swim quartering
across the stream—a ronte of at least
a quarter of a mile. A closer inspec-
tion showed it to be the faithful old
mother sow with her pig on her back.
More than once floating drift and
trees swept the pig off her ba^k^ but
she immediately put the little one
back and resumed her straggle for the
life of herself and her offspring.
Every reader of the Times will be glad
to know that both finally reached dry
land all right. If this is not a clear
case of hog- love, what Is it?—Glasgow
(Ky.) Times.
Dr. Taylor can correct
any irregularities in chil-
dren’s teeth, make them
regular and smooth in the
arches.
W. H. Peterman, promoter of the
Mt. Pleasant street railway has just
returned from St. Louis where he
bought the necessary equipment for
the road. Hence, the street cars at
Mt. Pleasant is no longer a myth, but
an actual fact.
ASTHMA VANISHES
* Guaranteed to Give Absolute Sat- 1
, isfaction. Sold only by 2
\ J. w. KNOX, The Grocer.
'#11
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The Wages of Sin is Death.
The Ft. Worth tragedy, in which a
married man killed, a young woman
and immediately committed suicide,
and tragedies of like character that
occur all over the country serve to
emphasize the truth of the inspired
declaration that “thfi wages of sin is
death.” Not .all suffering is caused
by the transgressions of the sufferers,
but all transgressions of God’s laws
bring suffering. Sin against the law
of our bodies brings physical death.
Transgression of moral law results
not only in spiritual death, but often
in physical death as well. A man is
a fool who thinks he can violate mor-
al law and escape punishment. As a
man sows that shall he also reap was
true in the begining and will remain
true to the end. The particular kind
of sin that resulted in the death of the
couple at Ft. Worth results in the
death sure, and nsually swift. Yet
these terrible tragedies seem to have
little effect. Men and women appear.,
to think that they can play with fixe
and escape being burned. Lives are
sacrificed, homes are wrecked and in-
nocent people have to suffer, yet de-
luded mortals think they can defy all
moral law, mock God, and escape un-
scathed. But they receive their
wages to the last farthing, and the
wages that they are promised is death
—death to all that is highest and hol-
iest in life and actual physical death.
But men and wbmen continue to play
wicked and desperately dangerous
games in life not knowing or caring
that they must inevitably lose in the
end—The Greenville Herald.
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Peltry! Bader! £?£*!
So Does Catarrh, Croup, Hay Fever aod
Bronchitis
Hyomei is a confidence creator.
The first time yon breathe in this
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If your head is so stuffed with mu-
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ticle of air through your nostrils,
Hyomei will open them up and give
relief in five minutes.
Why will sensible people suffer
longer, why will they wheeze and
hawk and spit and smother, when
Walker will guarantee Hyomei to
cure or money back. $1.00 is all
Walker asks for a complete outfit.
“I have used Hyomei for hay fever,
and can prononnce it the best relief
for this trouble that I ever tried or
heard of. I have had this malady for
years, and have doctored and used
many remedies, but Hyomei is far
ahead of any of the others, and has
my hearty endorsement.”—Mrs. M.
S. Martin, Cassopolis, Mich.
Always in the market.
Highest market prices
in cash. See us before
selling. . .
THEO. WESTER
Northwest Corner Square.
She Was Well Pleased.
A Clay county girl after visiting the
National Corn Exposition at Omaha
describes her visit thus:
“O, I had a perfect beautiful time!
Contrived there a little after noon and
took a cabby to the hotel. We went
to our rooms in a refrigerator and the
rooms were illustrated with laughing
gas and heated with legislatures. I
was too excited to eat muoh, but I was
on expiration and when I got home I
felt well prepaid for the time and
money I had dispensed with. Edgar
(Neb.) Post.
Dr. Taylor buys the best
dental material, so you
can get the results, nte-
chanically and scientifi-
cally._
The Robertson anti* racing bill was
passed by the Legislature, but Senator
Senter’s amendment placing a ban on
rafflers, card prizes, etc, was defeated.
Farm and Ranch believes that cleaner,
better fairs will result from elimina-
tion of race track gambling., And by
the way, it would like to see the Legi-
slature’s explanation of the difference
between losing money on a horse race
or a poker game, and losing it in a
raffle or at bridge whist—Farm and
Ranch.
qm
||ja.
pS
It
li
.? j .yifjff
MX-ONA
Cures Dyspepsia.
Your money back & St don't. Gives im-
mediate relief from heartburn, sour stom-
ach, stomach distress and sick headache.
50 coats a large box at
WALKER'S DRUG STORI
Palace Barber
First Class Shave, 10c
Baths, hot or cold, 15c
Hair Cut, asy style, 25c
n/ttJUXt COMER
S. E. SMITH, - Proprietor
'
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Fanning, R. W. The Sulphur Springs Gazette. (Sulphur Springs, Tex.), Vol. 47, No. 14, Ed. 1 Friday, April 2, 1909, newspaper, April 2, 1909; Sulphur Springs, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth817621/m1/3/: accessed June 26, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Hopkins County Genealogical Society.