The Birmingham age-herald., 1916-05-21

| newspaper. SLOTt 1T <Ouuv and order your copy of fine !
 paper for next Sunday ina-
 mediate1y. "The Iron Claw"
 is Me most absorbing adven- !
 lure serial eyer filmed. II
 has q thrill in every inch and
 its interest is sustained right
 through to the finish. |YOU'LL BE SORRY | IF YOU MISS IT. ward the shrubbery of the eastern point. Margory, the fair-haired child, chattered and futtered birdlike about her silent mother as she approached the house and passed inside. But on the wide loggia Enoch Golden, stern eyed and grim-lipped, paced back and forth, scared by the fires of jealous suspicious.
 The master of Windward Island was man of action, and prolonged
 
 ened his home had eaten like acid into his soul. He paced back and forth, wrestling with his black thoughts, stopping only for a moment to bark out a word or two at the negro servant who stopped deferentially be- fore him for orders. His face re- faxed, however, as little Margory crept to his side and took his hand. He lifted her head and stared into her innocent young face, so like her moth CTS. But moment later, as he stood at the railing looking after the de- parting Palidori, his great chest heaved. Golden, the man of strength, the man who made all life battle, found this fight against that insub- stantial enemy known as jealousy too much for him. He wheeled about and strode into the house.
 Ask Mrs. Golden to come here," he commanded.
 Golden leaped to his feet. He strode, white-faced, through the silent house, hurried on along the narrow garden paths, and suddenly slackened his pace as he approached the thick shrubbery beyond. The sound of voices came to his ear. Creeping for ward he cautiously parted the branches. There, screened from the world about them, Palidori stood gaz- ing down into his wife's eyes.
 T cannot give you the key" he heard her say. My husband still has it.'' :.
 ''Then what can we do?" asked the Italian.
 q vii give it to you tonight. It will be safer then,' was the quavering answere.
 "Then you must give me more than the key" murmured Palidori.
 Golden, dropping back, staggered away like a stricken animal and heard no more. His last hope had withered out. The worst was known. He re-entered his home, like a man in a dream.
 He was still pacing the room when his wife came in. As she approached him she caught sight of the open locket on the desk and. took it up. Tears started to her eyes. Then she crept to her husbands side, with her hands clinging hungrily to his shoul- derS. But Golden could neither meet her gaze nor speak to her. The gulf that had yawned between them was already too wide ever to be bridged. And he was glad when their golden haired child danced into the room and put an end to that scene which was only a torture to him.
 And late thaht night, when the hour for his intervention drew nearer, he al oh f0 in, ird O. something against which to centralize all his earlier vague suspicious. He moved with both calmness and pre- cision. He showed the quick instinct of the trained hunter in seeking cov- CT behind the heavy portiere, for the French window beside him com- manded a view of both the library within and the moonlit garden with out. And along the shrubbery of this garden he soon detected Palidori stealing, carrying a travelling bag in his hand and coat over his arm. Through the softly tighten library, a minute later, the figure of Golden'S wife slowly advanced.
 The watching husband could see the two come together, he could, hear the murmur of whispering voices, he could see Palidori's hand go out and clasp the woman's. At that, the man half-hidden by the heavy portiere reached down to his bolster and drew his revolver. Then he stopped, for Palidori was no longer speaking in whisper.
 T will not go alone. I love you and want you to be happy!"
 It was then that the planter stamped on the wooden floor, not with mere rage, but as signal to his waiting servants. He could hear his wife's call for help, for already his three huge negroes had darted through the bushes and surrounded Palidori.
 The Italian, drawing his revolver as he wheeled about, found his fire arm suddenly knocked from his hand. Even before Golden could reach him he was seized and overpowered and held a prisoner. The master of the manor, once his path was plain. was not given to hesitation.
 "Tie up that man." was his curt command, land take him to the manor cellars!"
 Then Golden turned to his wife, who stood swaying from side to side, with her hands covering her face. But the steely glitter of his eyes did not soften.
 You have dishonored my home and my name. That leaves you only