“A woman!” she heard a man’s voice say at her ear. She was lying upon the ground, and strange faces were bending over her. “Well, I’m damned!”

English!

“And the other?” she heard again. “Dead as a ’errin’!”

Doris sat up, staring at them wildly.

“Wait! There’s a flutter ’ere yet.” She heard the other man say. “Come, Bill. Let’s have ’im over to the ’ouse.”

Doris managed to find a whisper. “A surgeon—for him,” she said to the man supporting her. “He will not die. He is only wounded.”

It was her obsession. It would not leave her.

She saw them carrying Cyril toward the house, and when they wanted to take her, too, she said that she would walk. Though deathly weak, she managed to reach the house where they had carried Cyril. They gave her a drink of something and she revived.

It was a Red Cross station, they told her, and the doctor would be here in a moment. But in the meanwhile first aid was administered, and at her place at his bedside she saw Cyril struggling faintly back to life.

“He will not die,” she repeated quietly when the surgeon had examined him gravely.

“I hope not—but he’s bled a good deal. We’ll see.”

They cut away his coat and wanted to send her away, but she pleaded to remain and in a moment she heard Cyril’s voice whispering hoarsely—“Papers—coat pocket—Sir John French.”

“All right,” said the surgeon cheerfully. “We’ll see to that.”

“Doris.”

“Here, Cyril.”

“Rippin’ fine—of you—no mistake—old girl——”

His whisper trailed off into silence and at the surgeon’s orders they led her away from his cot, but she would not leave the room until she got the papers out of the pocket of his jacket. An orderly led her to a young officer with his arm in a sling who sat at a table in another part of the building. He listened to her story attentively and read the documents carefully, his lips as he read emitting a thin whistle. He glanced at his watch and for a moment left the room.

“It is arranged. You shall go,” he said when he came back. “A machine will be here in a moment.” He paused, examining her doubtfully. She was spattered with grease and oil, but the pallor of her face beneath its grime showed that her strength was near its end. “Wouldn’t you trust those dispatches to me? It’s ten miles to headquarters and rough.”

“No—no, I will go. I promised.”

But he ordered some hot coffee and bread, and thus fortified, when the motor came around she was driven upon her way. The young officer sat beside her, eagerly listening, while she gave him a brief outline of their adventures.

“Amazin’!” he said from time to time. “Most amazin’!”

And then as she went on, he said quietly:

“You’re goin’ on your nerve, I think. Better save your strength until we get to headquarters. It isn’t far now.”

She tried to keep silent, but it seemed as though she must go on talking. That seemed to give her strength to complete her task, for when she sank back in her seat and tried to relax she only grew weak thinking of Cyril lying back there, hovering between life and death. And then she heard herself saying aloud, “He will not die. He has gone through too much to die now.”

The man beside her glanced down at her and smiled gently.

“No, he isn’t going to die. Bullets don’t kill nowadays—unless they kill at once.”

“Yes—yes,” she assented. “That’s it. If he had been going to die, he would have been dead now, wouldn’t he?”

She laid her hand eagerly on the young officer’s arm and he put his hand over hers.

“Palmerston is the best surgeon along this part of the line. He’ll pull him through. Don’t you worry.”

“I won’t—I’ll try not to—you’re awfully kind. Would you mind telling me your name?”

“Jackson. Second Leinster Dragoons. And yours?”

“Mather—Doris Mather. I—I don’t want to forget your name. You’ve been very good to understand everything so perfectly.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. There are reasons—I’m on Headquarters Staff, you know.”

That was one reason. But another one was that there was a girl at home just as much worried over his wound as Miss Mather was over Hammersley’s.

They passed from the rough roads between gates into a smoother one which was bordered with poplars. At the end in front of her she saw lights and reached a doorway, where an orderly opened the door of the machine and saluted her companion. Their arrival, it seemed, was expected. Captain Jackson took her by the arm and led her indoors, for her courage or her nerves seemed to be failing her again, down a quiet hall into a room where an officer with a gray mustache sat before a lighted lamp at a table covered with papers. She recognized him at once from the many portraits that had appeared in the weekly papers. He spoke to her and she tried to reply, but she could not. She seemed only to have strength enough to thrust the papers forward into his hand, when her knees gave way under her and she sank in a heap upon the floor.

Gentle hands lifted her and laid her upon a couch in the corner of the room. She tried to get up, but could not. She heard the voices of the officers in the room as from a great distance, and then a woman came and two men carried her upstairs and put her to bed. She realized that she was talking incoherently of Cyril, of the Yellow Dove. They gave her something to drink and her nerves grew mysteriously quiet. She seemed to be sailing smoothly through the air—higher, higher—Cyril’s fingers were pointing upward. She was tipping the wheel toward her—ever toward her, and they rose higher. They had reached the region of continuous and perfect day. Cyril turned his head and looked at her, and then he smiled.

It was broad daylight when she awoke, for the sunshine was streaming in at the window. A woman sat near her, knitting. She was an old woman of many wrinkles, kindly wrinkles which seemed to vie with one another to express placidity. As Doris rose in her bed the old woman rose, too, and came forward briskly, speaking in French.

“Ah, Mademoiselle is awake. Bon. She is feeling better?”

“Yes, better—but a little tired.” And then, as she realized where she was, “Could you tell me——? General French—could I see him?”

“All is well, mademoiselle. Monsieur le General—he is not here now. But he will be back after a while. He will see you, then, but first it is proper that you have breakfast and a bath. Mademoiselle needs a bath—I think.”

Doris glanced at her hand, which lay upon the white coverlid. It was black. “Yes, I will bathe. But first will you tell me——?”

The old woman smiled as she interrupted, “I was to tell you that Monsieur yonder is better. That is what Mademoiselle wished to know, is it not?”

Doris sank back upon her pillow in a silence which gave the full measure of her joy. Cyril would recover. She had been sure of it. She had told them last night. God was good.

The news gave her strength, and the coffee and eggs that were brought revived her rapidly. Her nerves still trembled in memory of what they had passed through, but when she was bathed and dressed in clean linen garments, much too large for her, a surgeon brought her medicine, and what was better than medicine, news that Cyril was conscious and was asking for her.

But they would not let her go to him. Tomorrow perhaps. Meanwhile the doctor would be glad to take a message. Doris colored gently. The message that she would have liked to send was not to be transmitted by this means.

“Tell him,” she said at last quietly, “that I am well—and that I will see him when I have permission to do so.”

The officer smiled, gave some directions to the old woman and went out.

It was not until late in the afternoon, when dressed in her own garments, which had been carefully cleansed and brushed by her nurse, that she was admitted to the office of the Field Marshal. She was shown into his room and he greeted her with unmistakable cordiality, offering her the chair next his own and congratulating her warmly upon the success of her achievement and Cyril’s.

“You know,” he asked quietly, “the contents of these documents?”

“Yes. Their importance made it necessary that I should.”

“Then of course you realize the necessity for the utmost secrecy?”

“I do.”

The General smiled at her and brought forward a copy of a recent issue of the London Times.

“Did you know that for the past three days England has actually stopped criticizing me to talk about you?”

“About me?” she asked.

“Yes, read,” he said smiling, and she took the paper from him, skimming the headings of a news item he pointed out to her:

MISS MATHER STILL MISSING.

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE STILL UNACCOUNTED FOR.

LADY HEATHCOTE TELLS STRANGE STORY.

JOHN RIZZIO, THE FAMOUS COLLECTOR, A GERMAN SPY.

And then in the news item below:

She stopped reading and put the paper down.

“Poor Daddy!” she whispered. “O Sir John, will you let him know——?”

“I have already done so, child. He knows that you are safe.” And then with a laugh, “The five thousand pounds—I think are mine. I need a new hospital corps.”

“Oh, he’ll give it, I’m sure.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

He took her hand and rose in the act of dismissal. “We have supper at six. I hope you will be able to join us.”

“But, General——” She paused at the door.

He smiled at her softly.

“If all goes well—you shall see him tomorrow.”

She colored prettily. Everyone seemed to know, but she didn’t care. The world, in spite of its terrors, was a garden of roses to Doris.

She did not see Cyril the next day or the one following. His temperature had risen, and while the danger of a relapse was not acute, they thought it safer that she be kept away. She had worried, fearing the worst, but the frankness of the head surgeon reassured her. The bullet had drilled through him, just scraping the lung. He would recover. But why take a chance of complication when all was going well? There was no reply to that, so Doris waited at headquarters, thankful and trying to be patient, sending two penciled scrawls which were delivered to the wounded man.

It was not until three days later that she received word that she would be permitted to see him. His cot had been carried into a small room at the front of the building, and she entered it timidly, the nurse, with a smile and a glance at her watch, both of which were eloquent, withdrawing. He was propped up on pillows, and though pale from the loss of blood, greeted her with his old careless smile. She sank into the chair by the side of the bed and caught his hand to her lips.

“O Cyril,” she murmured. “Cyril, I’m so glad. But I knew you wouldn’t die—you couldn’t after getting safely through everything else.”

“Die! Well, hardly. I’m right as rain. Jolly close shootin’ that of Rizzio’s, though. Pity he had to go—that way.”

She hid her face in her hands.

“Don’t! Let’s forget him.” And then, “Have you suffered much?”

“No. The bally thing burns a bit now and then—but the worst of it is, they won’t let a chap smoke.”

She laughed and he caught her hand closer.

“How did you do it, Doris? How did you?” he questioned.

“I had to, Cyril,” she said. “It wasn’t anything—except knowing where to come down. That bothered me. I guessed at Ypres. The rest was luck.”

“More than luck, old girl. Just courage and intelligence. I felt myself failin’, up there, but I saw you knew your way about and then I—I seemed to go to sleep. Silly of me, wasn’t it?”

“Silly! You fainted, Cyril.”

“Rotten time to faint.”

“You might have died up there. Once I thought you had died. Oh, that dreadful moment! I wanted to go, too—with you. I was a little mad, I think. I wanted to take you in my arms and go with you—down—down. My hands even left the wheel. The Yellow Dove toppled—but I caught her.”

“Poor child!”

“After that I seemed to grow all cold with reason and skill. I forgot you. I looked beyond, over your poor head. I had to succeed, Cyril—that was all.”

His hand pressed hers tenderly.

“You’re the only girl in the world who could do it. I’m glad—proud——” He broke off. “My word, Doris! There’s no use tryin’ to tell you what I think of you. I’m no good at that sort of thing.”

“I understand. You’re just—yourself. That’s enough for me.”

“You were a trump up there in the Thorwald—to stay with poor old Udo, but I had to go. It was the only way. I never thought we’d make it.”

“But we did.”

“You did. It was the Dove, Doris—the good old Dove. Isn’t she a ripper?”

“I never had a fear—once she rose. How did you happen——”

He laughed.

“It was to be a surprise. I’d been workin’ on her for a year—tryin’ her out on the moors. Nobody knew—until the war came—and then I told Udo, who told von Stromberg. I tried a flight to Windenberg and made it comfortably. Awf’ly easy thing. I stayed at Windenberg in October, flyin’ over the English lines, droppin’ bombs.”

“That was where you were——!”

“But I never hit anythin’. Wouldn’t do, you know. Then when I came back I told the War Office. They sent me for the papers. You know the rest.”

“O Cyril, I’m so glad it’s all over. You’ll go to England now and rest.”

“For a while.” And then, “Will you marry me, Doris? Soon?”

“Yes,” she said softly. “Whenever you want me.”

“Here? Now?”

“But, Cyril——”

“There’s a parson chap about here somewhere. I saw him browsin’ in here the other day.”

“Isn’t it a little——”

“Say you will, there’s a dear.”

“Yes, if you wish it. But——”

“What?”

“Clothes.”

“Nonsense. You’re jolly handsome in those togs—handsome no end,” he repeated. “Marry me tomorrow, Doris. There’s a dear.”

She leaned her face down upon his hand.

“We’re already married, Cyril. Up there I felt it. Even death couldn’t have separated us.”

“Thank God! Kiss me, Doris.” She obeyed.

“I’ll see Jackson,” he whispered. “He’ll manage it. Resourceful chap, Jackson. He’ll get us a chaplain like pullin’ a rabbit out of a hat.”

She laughed.

“I don’t suppose I’d ever have known you, Cyril, over there in England. You always did wonderful things carelessly, Cyril.”

“But not this wonderful thing——” and he kissed her.

“It is a wonderful thing,” she whispered. “So wonderful that I wonder if it can be true.”

“I’ll prove it to you——”

But she had straightened and kissed his hand.

“No more now—I mustn’t stay. I hear them in the hall.”

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Jackson?”

“Yes.”

The nurse knocked discreetly and entered. “Five minutes. I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” said Hammersley, with a sigh.

Three weeks later they stood side by side at the rail of the Channel boat on the way to Ashwater Park for the parental blessing. The shores of France were already purple in the distance. They had looked upon Death with eyes that did not fear, but the sight of it together had made the bond of their fealty and tenderness the stronger. There was a sadness in his look and she knew instinctively of what he was thinking.

“Germany, Cyril,” she said aloud. “I love it because a part of it is you. But I love England more, because it is you.”

Hammersley watched the receding shores beyond the vessel’s wake, her hand in his.

“They’re followin’ false gods, Doris. Gods of steel and brass——!”

“They must fall, Cyril.”

“They will.” And then, “But you can’t help admirin’ the beggars! Poor old Udo!”

“I think about him, Cyril. Do you think he got away?”

“Well, rather! I cut his bonds with a huntin’ knife before we went down.”

She looked up into his face in amazement. “You dared do that?” He laughed.

“You wouldn’t have let him be more generous than me.”

“And he let us go?”

“He didn’t think we could go. He left things to Destiny.”

“Good old Udo!” she repeated. And then dreamily, “Destiny! You were not meant to die, Cyril.”

“Not yet.” He said slowly: “But I must go back—over there, Doris.”

She shivered a little and drew closer to him.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “But you’ve earned——”

“I couldn’t ever earn what I’ve got,” he broke in quickly.

“Nor I——”

“I’m not much of a chap at pretty speeches and all that sort of thing, but you’re a rare one, you know, the rummiest sort of a rare one—the kind a chap dreams about but never gets—and yet I’ve got you— Oh, hang it all, Doris,” he broke off helplessly. “You know——”

She smiled at him and slipped her arm through his.

“Yes, I know,” she said.

“Good old Doris,” he muttered. “Silly ass, aren’t I?”

But she wouldn’t admit that.

FOUR TIMELY BOOKS OF
INTERNATIONAL IMPORTANCE

I ACCUSE (J’ACCUSE!) By a German. A Scathing Arraignment of the German War Policy.

At this vital time in the nation’s history every patriotic American should read and reread this wonderful book and learn the absurdity of the German excuse that they wanted a “Place in the Sun.”

Learn how the German masses were deluded with the idea that they were making a defensive war to protect the Fatherland.

Let the author of this illuminating book again show the sacrilege of claiming a Christian God as a Teutonic ally and riddle once more the divine right of kings.

PAN-GERMANISM. By Roland G. Usher.

The clear, graphic style gives it a popular appeal that sets it miles apart from the ordinary treatise, and for the reader who wishes to get a rapid focus on the world events of the present, perhaps no book written will be more interesting.

It is the only existing forecast of exactly the present development of events in Europe. It is, besides, a brisk, clear, almost primer-like reduction of the complex history of Europe during the last forty years to a simple, connected story clear enough to the most casual reader.

THE CHALLENGE OF THE FUTURE. By Roland G. Usher.

A glance into America’s future by the man who, in his book PAN-GERMANISM, foretold with such amazing accuracy the coming of the present European events. An exceedingly live and timely book that is bound to be read and discussed widely because it strikes to the heart of American problems, and more especially because it hits right and left at ideas that have become deep-seated convictions in many American minds.

THE EVIDENCE IN THE CASE. By James M. Beck, LL.D., Formerly Assistant Attorney-General of the United States, Author of the “War and Humanity.” With an Introduction by the Hon. Joseph H. Choate, Late U. S. Ambassador to Great Britain.

No work on the War has made a deeper impression throughout the world than “The Evidence in the Case,” a calm, dispassionate, but forceful discussion of the moral responsibility for the present war as disclosed by the diplomatic papers. Arnold Bennett says that it “is certainly by far the most convincing indictment of Germany in existence.”

GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK

JACK LONDON’S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.

JOHN BARLEYCORN.

Illustrated by H. T. Dunn.

This remarkable book is a record of the author’s own amazing experiences. This big, brawny world rover, who has been acquainted with alcohol from boyhood, comes out boldly against John Barleycorn. It is a string of exciting adventures, yet it forcefully conveys an unforgetable idea and makes a typical Jack London book.

THE VALLEY OF THE MOON.

Frontispiece by George Harper.

The story opens in the city slums where Billy Roberts, teamster and ex-prize fighter, and Saxon Brown, laundry worker, meet and love and marry. They tramp from one end of California to the other, and in the Valley of the Moon find the farm paradise that is to be their salvation.

BURNING DAYLIGHT.

Four illustrations.

The story of an adventurer who went to Alaska and laid the foundations of his fortune before the gold hunters arrived. Bringing his fortunes to the States he is cheated out of it by a crowd of money kings, and recovers it only at the muzzle of his gun. He then starts out as a merciless exploiter on his own account. Finally he takes to drinking and becomes a picture of degeneration. About this time he falls in love with his stenographer and wins her heart but not her hand and then—but read the story!

A SON OF THE SUN.

Illustrated by A. O. Fischer and C. W. Ashley.

David Grief was once a light-haired, blue-eyed youth who came from England to the South Seas in search of adventure. Tanned like a native and as lithe as a tiger, he became a real son of the sun. The life appealed to him and he remained and became very wealthy.

THE CALL OF THE WILD.

Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin and Charles Livingston Bull.

Decorations by Charles E. Hooper.

A book of dog adventures as exciting as any man’s exploits could be. Here is excitement to stir the blood and here is picturesque color to transport the reader to primitive scenes.

THE SEA WOLF.

Illustrated by W. J. Aylward.

Told by a man whom Fate suddenly swings from his fastidious life into the power of the brutal captain of a sealing schooner. A novel of adventure warmed by a beautiful love episode that every reader will hail with delight.

WHITE FANG.

Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull.

“White Fang” is part dog, part wolf and all brute, living in the frozen north; he gradually comes under the spell of man’s companionship, and surrenders all at the last in a fight with a bull dog. Thereafter he is man’s loving slave.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY

WILLIAM MacLEOD RAINE

HANDSOMELY BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED.

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.

MAVERICKS.

A tale of the western frontier, where the “rustler,” whose depredations are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One of the sweetest love stories ever told.

A TEXAS RANGER.

How a member of the most dauntless border police force carried law into the mesquit, saved the life of an innocent man after a series of thrilling adventures, followed a fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed through deadly peril to ultimate happiness.

WYOMING.

In this vivid story of the outdoor West the author has captured the breezy charm of “cattleland,” and brings out the turbid life of the frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor.

RIDGWAY OF MONTANA.

The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and mining industries are the religion of the country. The political contest, the love scene, and the fine character drawing give this story great strength and charm.

BUCKY O’CONNOR.

Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with the dashing spirit of the border, told with dramatic dash and absorbing fascination of style and plot.

CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT.

A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual woman and her love story reaches a culmination that is fittingly characteristic of the great free West.

BRAND BLOTTERS.

A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of the frontier, with all its engaging dash and vigor, with a charming love interest running through its 320 pages.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

ZANE GREY’S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.

THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS

Colored frontispiece by W. Herbert Dunton.

Most of the action of this story takes place near the turbulent Mexican border of the present day. A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of frontier warfare. Her loyal cowboys defend her property from bandits, and her superintendent rescues her when she is captured by them. A surprising climax brings the story to a delightful close.

DESERT GOLD

Illustrated by Douglas Duer.

Another fascinating story of the Mexican border. Two men, lost in the desert, discover gold when, overcome by weakness, they can go no farther. The rest of the story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with the finding of the gold which the two prospectors had willed to the girl who is the story’s heroine.

RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE

Illustrated by Douglas Duer.

A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon authority ruled. In the persecution of Jane Withersteen, a rich ranch owner, we are permitted to see the methods employed by the invisible hand of the Mormon Church to break her will.

THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN

Illustrated with photograph reproductions.

This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones, known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert and of a hunt in “that wonderful country of yellow crags, deep caÑons and giant pines.” It is a fascinating story.

THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT

Jacket in color. Frontispiece.

This big human drama is played in the Painted Desert. A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall become the second wife of one of the Mormons—

Well, that’s the problem of this sensational, big selling story.

BETTY ZANE

Illustrated by Louis F. Grant.

This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers. Life along the frontier, attacks by Indians, Betty’s heroic defense of the beleaguered garrison at Wheeling, the burning of the Fort, and Betty’s final race for life, make up this never-to-be-forgotten story.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY

GENE STRATTON-PORTER

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.

LADDIE.

Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.

This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie, the older brother whom Little Sister adores, and the Princess, an English girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and about whose family there hangs a mystery. There is a wedding midway in the book and a double wedding at the close.

THE HARVESTER.

Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.

“The Harvester,” David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If the book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be notable. But when the Girl comes to his “Medicine Woods,” and the Harvester’s whole being realizes that this is the highest point of life which has come to him—there begins a romance of the rarest idyllic quality.

FRECKLES.

Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford.

Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with “The Angel” are full of real sentiment.

A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST.

Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda.

The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.

AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW.

Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp.

The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

JOHN FOX, JR’S.

STORIES OF THE KENTUCKY MOUNTAINS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap’s list.

THE TRAIL OF THE LONESOME PINE.

Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.

The “lonesome pine” from which the story takes its name was a tall tree that stood in solitary splendor on a mountain top. The fame of the pine lured a young engineer through Kentucky to catch the trail, and when he finally climbed to its shelter he found not only the pine but the foot-prints of a girl. And the girl proved to be lovely, piquant, and the trail of these girlish foot-prints led the young engineer a madder chase than “the trail of the lonesome pine.”

THE LITTLE SHEPHERD OF KINGDOM COME.

Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.

This is a story of Kentucky, in a settlement known as “Kingdom Come.” It is a life rude, semi-barbarous; but natural and honest, from which often springs the flower of civilization.

“Chad.” the “little shepherd” did not know who he was nor whence he came—he had just wandered from door to door since early childhood, seeking shelter with kindly mountaineers who gladly fathered and mothered this waif about whom there was such a mystery—a charming waif, by the way, who could play the banjo better that anyone else in the mountains.

A KNIGHT OF THE CUMBERLAND.

Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.

The scenes are laid along the waters of the Cumberland, the lair of moonshiner and feudsman. The knight is a moonshiner’s son, and the heroine a beautiful girl perversely christened “The Blight.” Two impetuous young Southerners fall under the spell of “The Blight’s” charms and she learns what a large part jealousy and pistols have in the love making of the mountaineers.

Included in this volume is “Hell fer-Sartain” and other stories, some of Mr. Fox’s most entertaining Cumberland valley narratives.

Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

CHARMING BOOKS FOR GIRLS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.

WHEN PATTY WENT TO COLLEGE, By Jean Webster.

Illustrated by C. D. Williams.

One of the best stories of life in a girl’s college that has ever been written. It is bright, whimsical and entertaining, lifelike, laughable and thoroughly human.

JUST PATTY, By Jean Webster.

Illustrated by C. M. Relyea.

Patty is full of the joy of living, fun-loving, given to ingenious mischief for its own sake, with a disregard for pretty convention which is an unfailing source of joy to her fellows.

THE POOR LITTLE RICH GIRL, By Eleanor Gates.

With four full page illustrations.

This story relates the experience of one of those unfortunate children whose early days are passed in the companionship of a governess, seldom seeing either parent, and famishing for natural love and tenderness. A charming play as dramatized by the author.

REBECCA OF SUNNYBROOK FARM, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.

One of the most beautiful studies of childhood—Rebecca’s artistic, unusual and quaintly charming qualities stand out midst a circle of austere New Englanders. The stage version is making a phenomenal dramatic record.

NEW CHRONICLES OF REBECCA, By Kate Douglas Wiggin.

Illustrated by F. C. Yohn.

Additional episodes in the girlhood of this delightful heroine that carry Rebecca through various stages to her eighteenth birthday.

REBECCA MARY, By Annie Hamilton Donnell.

Illustrated by Elizabeth Shippen Green.

This author possesses the rare gift of portraying all the grotesque little joys and sorrows and scruples of this very small girl with a pathos that is peculiarly genuine and appealing.

EMMY LOU: Her Book and Heart, By George Madden Martin.

Illustrated by Charles Louis Hinton.

Emmy Lou is irresistibly lovable, because she is so absolutely real. She is just a bewitchingly innocent, huggable little maid. The book is wonderfully human.

Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

MYRTLE REED’S NOVELS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list.

LAVENDER AND OLD LACE.

A charming story of a quaint corner of New England where bygone romance finds a modern parallel. The story centers round the coming of love to the young people on the staff of a newspaper—and it is one of the prettiest, sweetest and quaintest of old fashioned love stories, * * * a rare book, exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate fancy, of tenderness, of delightful humor and spontaneity.

A SPINNER IN THE SUN.

Miss Myrtle Reed may always be depended upon to write a story in which poetry, charm, tenderness and humor are combined into a clever and entertaining book. Her characters are delightful and she always displays a quaint humor of expression and a quiet feeling of pathos which give a touch of active realism to all her writings. In “A Spinner in the Sun” she tells an old-fashioned love story, of a veiled lady who lives in solitude and whose features her neighbors have never seen. There is a mystery at the heart of the book that throws over it the glamour of romance.

THE MASTER’S VIOLIN.

A love story in a musical atmosphere. A picturesque, old German virtuoso is the reverent possessor of a genuine “Cremona.” He consents to take for his pupil a handsome youth who proves to have an aptitude for technique, but not the soul of an artist. The youth has led the happy, careless life of a modern, well-to-do young American and he cannot, with his meagre past, express the love, the passion and the tragedies of life and all its happy phases as can the master who has lived life in all its fulness. But a girl comes into his life—a beautiful bit of human driftwood that his aunt had taken into her heart and home, and through his passionate love for her, he learns the lessons that life has to give—and his soul awakes.

Founded on a fact that all artists realize.

Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

B. M. Bower’s Novels

Thrilling Western Romances

Large 12 mos. Handsomely bound in cloth. Illustrated

CHIP, OF THE FLYING U

A breezy wholesome tale, wherein the love affairs of Chip and Della Whitman are charmingly and humorously told. Chip’s jealousy of Dr. Cecil Grantham, who turns out to be a big, blue eyed young woman is very amusing. A clever, realistic story of the American Cow-puncher.

THE HAPPY FAMILY

A lively and amusing story, dealing with the adventures of eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys. Foremost amongst them, we find Ananias Green, known as Andy, whose imaginative powers cause many lively and exciting adventures.

HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT

A realistic story of the plains, describing a gay party of Easterners who exchange a cottage at Newport for the rough homeliness of a Montana ranch-house. The merry-hearted cowboys, the fascinating Beatrice, and the effusive Sir Redmond, become living, breathing personalities.

THE RANGE DWELLERS

Here are everyday, genuine cowboys, just as they really exist. Spirited action, a range feud between two families, and a Romeo and Juliet courtship make this a bright, jolly, entertaining story, without a dull page.

THE LURE OF DIM TRAILS

A vivid portrayal of the experience of an Eastern author, among the cowboys of the West, in search of “local color” for a new novel. “Bud” Thurston learns many a lesson while following “the lure of the dim trails” but the hardest, and probably the most welcome, is that of love.

THE LONESOME TRAIL

“Weary” Davidson leaves the ranch for Portland, where conventional city life palls on him. A little branch of sage brush, pungent with the atmosphere of the prairie, and the recollection of a pair of large brown eyes soon compel his return. A wholesome love story.

THE LONG SHADOW

A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the free, outdoor, life of a mountain ranch. Its scenes shift rapidly and its actors play the game of life fearlessly and like men. It is a fine love story from start to finish.

Ask for a complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

THE NOVELS OF

STEWART EDWARD WHITE

THE RULES OF THE GAME.

Illustrated by Lajaren A. Hiller.

The romance of the son of “The Riverman.” The young college hero goes into the lumber camp, is antagonized by “graft” and comes into the romance of his life.

ARIZONA NIGHTS.

Illus. and cover inlay by N. C. Wyeth.

A series of spirited tales emphasizing some phases of the life of the ranch, plains and desert. A masterpiece.

THE BLAZED TRAIL.

With illustrations by Thomas Fogarty.

A wholesome story with gleams of humor, telling of a young man who blazed his way to fortune through the heart of the Michigan pines.

THE CLAIM JUMPERS. A Romance.

The tenderfoot manager of a mine in a lonesome gulch of the Black Hills has a hard time of it, but “wins out” in more ways than one.

CONJUROR’S HOUSE.

Illustrated Theatrical Edition.

Dramatized under the title of “The Call of the North.”

“Conjuror’s House” is a Hudson Bay trading post where the head factor is the absolute lord. A young fellow risked his life and won a bride on this forbidden land.

THE MAGIC FOREST. A Modern Fairy Tale.

Illustrated.

The sympathetic way in which the children of the wild and their life is treated could only belong to one who is in love with the forest and open air. Based on fact.

THE RIVERMAN.

Illus. by N. C. Wyeth and C. Underwood.

The story of a man’s fight against a river and of a struggle between honesty and grit on the one side, and dishonesty and shrewdness on the other.

THE SILENT PLACES.

Illustrations by Philip R. Goodwin.

The wonders of the northern forests, the heights of feminine devotion and masculine power, the intelligence of the Caucasian and the instinct of the Indian, are all finely drawn in this story.

THE WESTERNERS.

A story of the Black Hills that is justly placed among the best American novels. It portrays the life of the new West as no other book has done in recent years.

THE MYSTERY.

In collaboration with Samuel Hopkins Adams.

With illustrations by Will Crawford.

The disappearance of three successive crews from the stout ship “Laughing Lass” in mid-Pacific, is a mystery weird and inscrutable. In the solution, there is a story of the most exciting voyage that man ever undertook.

Grosset & Dunlap, 526 West 26th St., New York

Transcriber’s Note:

Except for the frontispiece, illustrations have been moved to follow the text that they illustrate, so the page number of the illustration may not match the page number in the List of Illustrations.

Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.

Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.

Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

The author’s em-dash and long dash styles have been retained.