The Mena weekly star., 1909-06-03

you 1 tnlnk Janet wants to heat a teaspoonful of water for a strychnine hypcdermic.'
 CHAPTER XIV.
 From Mrs. MeIvIIIe's Point of View.
 The Palace Hotel, San Francisco. March 24, 1906.--My Dear Husband: Although I sent you a postal yester- day, 1 am writing again today to try to keep you in touch with our extraor- dinary series of events. Nothing has been heard from Archie except the letter, the letter--if he wrote it-which tells nothing except that his kdnapers use the same kind of writing paper as Miss Janet Smith. 1 grow more sus- picious of her all the time. You ask (but of course you wrote before the re- cent mysterious and tragical occur rences). you ask do like Miss Smith any better, now that I am thrown with her so closely. No, Melville, I have not the fatal creduity of the Wintersl I distrust her more. She has, admit an engaging personality; there is a superficial suitability that would be dangerous to one not on her guard. But l am never off my guard with her. I'm sorry to say, however, that your brother seems deceived by her plausible ways. And, of course, our poor aunt Is still her blind dupe. Aunt Rebecca has failed a good deal this last year; she is quite irritable with me, sometimes, but she does not appear to realize the full horror of this kidnaping. Miss Smith actually seems to suffer more; she looks pale and hag- gard and has no appetite. I do not think it all pretense, either; I dare say much of 1t is remorsel The situa- ton is dreadful. Sometimes I think Aunt Rebecca will not yield to the de- mands of these wretches who have our poor boy, and that he will be mutilated or murdered sometimes 1 thips1 that they have murdered him already and are writing forged letters to throw us off the track. You can imagine how my nerves are shakenl I have seen hardly anything of the city; and of course have not gone into society at all. Indeed, have met only one pleasant person; that was the secre- tary of the great financier, Mir. Edwin heatcham, who was here, next to us. The secretary is pleasing person quite comme Il faut in appearance. | met him here in the court where he nearly knocked me over; and he apol- ogized profusely-and really very nice ly, using my name. That surprised me, but he explained that they had been on the train with us. Then I re- membered him. His name is Horatio Atkins; and he is very polite. He is on a two weeks vacation and came here to see Mir. Keatcham. not know ing he was gone. He was really most agreeable and so sympathetic about poor dear Archie. He agreed with me that such nervous tempera- ment as Archies suffers much more from unkindness. I could see. in spite of his assumed hopefulness. that he shared my fears. He has met quite number of our friends. He may (through Mir Keatcham) be a most valuable acquaintance. Didn't you tell me, once, that Keatcham was the lead ing benefactor of the university?
 He (Mr. Atkins) got his vacation on account of his health; and he is going to southern California. I don't won der. have never suffered more than in this land of sunshnei It is not so much the cold of the air as the humid ity! Do pray be cautious about chang ing to your summer underwear. Don't do itl l nearly perished, in the bleak wind yesterday, when l tried to visit a few shops. Be sure and take the cough medicine on the second shelf of our bathroom medicine closet; don't mistake rheumatism liniment for it; they are both on the same shelf; you would better sort them out. You are so absent-minded, Melville, I haven't a peaceful day when I'm away from you; and do for heavens sake try to bow to Mrs. Farrell and call her by her right namel You certainly have been to the presidents house often enough to know his wife on the street; and I don't think that it was a good excuse which you gave to Prof. Dale for calling Good morning, Katy!" to Mrs. Dale (who was born Schuyler and is most punctilious) that you mis- took her for our cook!
 miss you very much. Give my love to all our friends and be sure to wear your galoshes (your rubbers. you know) when the campus is wet, whether it is raining or not.
 Your afr. wife,
 M. WINTER.