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"SAIADA JACKSON-COLE CHAPTER. I At first glance, had tlicre been anyone close enough to studj' liini, the rider looked like a Mexican, a wandering vaquero, remarkable chiefly for his horse, a magnifi- cent blue roan. Michael N'aldez y O'Brien wore leather chaps to protect his legs from thorny brush, and a silver-brocaded charro vest and concha decorated sombrero. He pushed the roan through a clump of juniper to emerge on an outcropping of rock that over- looked a wide, lush valley. The sun dripped gold on the brilliant green oi the knee-deep grassland below him. Michael Valdez y O'Brien sat on the blue roan, named El Ciclo, for his resemblance to the sky of the sun-drenched South- west, and gazed down upon that scene of peace. He felt El Cielo go restless be- neath him as the fine beast scented the lush pastures at the foot of the rock shelf, spoke a chiding word to the roan for disturbing his peace- ful mood â€" and then stiffened in the saddle. A puff of smoke, far away in the valley, revealed peril in Para- dise. It was the hot, ugly gray and yellow smoke caused by the burn- ing of human habitation, smoke which Michael Valdez y O'Brien had come to know all too well in his years of wandering through the Southwest. Even as he touched ^^e.\ican silver spurs lightly to the horse's flanks, he caught a glimpse of 'ed tongues of fire. Gauging the dis- tance he had to cover, he knew that he would be too late. V * « Long before he reached the site of the fire the flames had died to a faint curl of smoke which, float- ing skyward beyond the trees, was all that was left to point the way.- He put El Cielo to a gallop in an effort to get there before even this last beacon faded out. Rounding a small clump of trees, lie finally saw the scene of de- struction before him. The thin pil- lar of smoke wound upward from the charred remains of a log cabin that had sprawled under two tail Cottonwood trees beside a brook. Smaller smoke columns rose from what must have been, until le- ceiitly, a barn. (le flung himself from the sad- dle under the cottonwood trees, while dust flew from the hoofs of the roan as it skidded to a stop. His eyes were hot and his mouth was thin as he surveyed the glow- ing embers. His sombrero, blown from his head by the speed of his ride, hung by a string around his neck, revealing hair that shone blue-black in the sunlight as he ran forward. Had he met the per- petrators of the outrage he saw before him just then, they would have received short shrift. Tew men had faced the heat that now shone in his eyes and lived to tell of it, since he had taken the ven- geance trail. * * ♦ A dead woman was sprawled on the ground, so close to the burning embers of the log cabin that the hair had been scorched off her head. The charge of buckshot that had killed her had made her whole body a sickening horror. But she had been brave to the end â€" she had fought a good but futile fight. For an old musket, covered with rust, was still cliitihrd in her toil-worn hands, Valdez' eyes, searching swiftly around, found the other victim. He was a white-haired old Mexican, who lay near the well, with its charred planking. And even as .Valdcz looked, he saw one of the old man's arms move feebly. Michael Valdez rushed to him. Kneeling, he lifted the old man's head, cradling it in his arms. "Aniigo," he said gently, "can you hear nic? Hold tight, old-tim- er- -we'll get you fixed up right • way." A dull groan was the only an- iwi-r. The old Mexican's eyelids fluttered slightly, but the eyes did not open. , Quickly, but with the utmost tenderness, Valdez laid the man flat on the burned grass and swift- ly pulled a bucket of cold water out of the small-bore well. He batlied the white-haired Mexican's face, and forced some of the water between the drawn-back Ii[)s. "Amigo," Valdez said, still gent- ly, but urgently, "speak to me, if you can I Tell nie what devil did tin's savage massacre here?" • * * * Pain spread over the patrician features of the dying man. Painfully the old man forced his eyes open, to look through their glazing at the man who min- istered to him. And with lips con- torted to force himself to speak, he managed to croak a name: "Raymond â€" Garvin â€" " Michael N'aldez y O'Brien stiff- ened, and a strange glitter carae into his own dark eyes. His own lips formed the name: "Garvin! Raymond Garvin!" How long he had sought that man and his evil companionsl The man who now, after the five years when he had perpetrated just such another outrage far away, must think himself safe! He could know nothing of Michael Valdez' having been on the vengeance trail, sparching, searching, through all the broad land for all that time. And always without success â€" until now. Now here, in this hid- den valley, he had come upon danming evidence that Raymond Garvin still lived and was carry- ing on his nefarious business 1 "Go on â€" please, amigo," Valdcz said softly, with no sign of the urgency that was in his own heart. "This man Garvin of whom you speak â€" this devil in human 'form who has done this terrible thing to you and yours â€" where can I find him?" Blood was flecking the old man's lips now, bubbling up from the lungs that had been shatter- ed with buckshot. His eyes were filming with the sign of death that was near. Once more he made a valiant effort to speak, but the ef- fort was too much for his bullet- riddled body. Even as Michael Valdez held him in his arms, a gentle shudder passed through the old Spaniard's body, and his head lolled side- ward. Gently Valdez laid him down. He was dead. Bitterness swept through Michael Valdez and shook every fiber of his being as he stared down at the dead man. And once more he muttered, almost in dis- belief: * * * "Raymond Garvin! But this time he'll not get away. He'll pay!" The ntemory of just such an- other scene was etched on his brain with acid, that scene he had come upon five years ago when he had been a happy-go-lucky youth and had found his own father and mother the victims. His beautiful mother, Molly O'Brien, with the hair of flame, the adored of his father and himself. A shudder shook his stalwart frame before he straightened and pulled him- self together grimly. One hand dropped toward a heavy gun in the elaborately stud- ded leather holster at his lean, muscular waist. A figure on horseback was gal- ! loping in fr.intic haste toward the now dying cniliers of the log cabin. But within a hniulrcd yards of it, the rider jerked the horse up sharply at sight of the strange man standing beside the charred ruins. The rider was young and small, Valdez saw, and had the complexion of a pure-bred Spaniard. Valdez' first swift glance at the youth noted Ihc resondilancc between him and the old man who lay dead by the well. Unmistakably this was the son of the UKissacrcd two beside the ruins, "Come ahead, amigo," Valdcz call- ed. "I'm here to help you. There is (To Re Continued) Beauty and Talentâ€" Mc-Mahtcr co-cd .-uicl .\ii>s Central Ontario, Muriel Hunter, 20, is one of the entrants in "Mi.ss Canada" beauty contest at Hatniltoii, Aug-. 21-22. ANN£ nmsj One Reason Why Girls Leave Home * "1 want my own place, Anne * Hirst. And if I told my parents * why, I'd break their hearts. They * give me cvcrytliing I wantâ€" except * privacy. I am 17, and I'm old * enough to he trusted." This Kail comes from a girl who is be- ing smothered by kindness. Her letter â-  is one of many similar ones that come through regu- larly. She gives the most impor- tant _rcasons for her dissatisfactions Her mother and father urge her to entertain her friends, but they stij: around till midnight "helping her" entertain them; ll'hen a boy friend comes, they make conversation until half the time the youngsters vtiss the show they'd planned to seeâ€" and they're always K'aiting up ivhen she gels home; Her mother goes with Iter to b:iy her clothes, and embarrasses her by advising her before salespeople ; Her mother doesn't open her mail, hut she wants to knozo cz'cry line in every letter. Now the girl's at the point ivhere she can't be herscf even when she's alone zvith her parents. She's too full of resentment; she zvon't say so, because "I zvouldn't hurt them for the world." TO PARENTS: You who read this column know how I feel about parents supervis- ing their daughters. But to super- vise them too vigorously, too inti- mately, is as dangerous as letting them alone. To stand constant watch, to try to make yourself one of her group, makes her feel that she's still 10 years old. She resents it with every fiber; she regards i' as an insult to her integrity. It shames her before her friends. It makes her self-conscious to the point where her natural develop- ment is being luarped. With the best intentions in the world, you are driv- ing her aii'ay from you. When her friends come in, stay long enough to soy hello. Then you two go to a shoiv or visit friends, so the youngsters can have the house to themselves for the evening. When she has a date, make the hoy welcome, then make yourselves scarce And don't always wait up for her. A girl of 17 is old enough to chouse her ozt'n clothes, alone. Let her make her ozvn mistakes; that's the only zvay she zvill learn. And her mail is her ozvn affair. Unless yoit have reason to suspect she's corresponding with the zi'rong boys, don't intrude. Your home is her home, too. Hut she cannot feel at home in it unless she's allozvcd to he hostess to her ozt'n friends. And hoji' else can she ever cultiz'ate the social graces? Yon won't ahvays be around, you knozt: If yoH aren't careful to rcspetl your girl's rights she will leave a note one day saying she won't be back. Or she'll run off with the first boy who asks her. To "NOT AT HOME": I am ad- dressing "ly opinion to your par- ents^ since you say they read the column every day. hit's hope they will wake up, and learn to be more friends than parents. BKIEI-' ANSWERS TO "RUTH C": Any boy who be- * licves gossip about a girl, and * drops her for it, is not worth * having as a friend. No matter * what he says about you, don't be- * lievc it. Second-hand tales are as * foolish to listen to, as to repeat. * * * TO "ROSE": Being a pal to a nice * boy is the surest way to keep him * interested. It is what this boy ex- 'â-º pccts, and if you changed toward * him you'd scare him off for * good. « * * TO "TOOTS": This young man is * bored with you. It is too bad you * didn't see it earlier. His sugges- * tion now is wise and kind (if you â- * knew it), and you can do nothing â- * but accept it. ♦ * * Don't bind your children to you by the siher cord. It doesn't work, Anne Hirst can suggest better ways. Address her at Do.v A, room A2\, 73 Adelaide A7. West, Toronto. Your Handwriting and You Alex S.'^Amott The materialistic nature is re- vealed in handwriting by small letters and a long downward stroke on the stem of letters "i," "g," "y" and "p." When these letters look as though the steins are "dig- ging down in the earth" or far below the writing line, it is a good sign the nature of the writer is the same â€" down to earth with both fecf. on the ground â€" strictly materialistic. His whole life is centered around the search for and the desire to possess the material things of life. How determined the nature is to be materialistic is indicated by the thickness of the stems. The thicker or wider the stroke, the more determined the physical na- ture, the length of the stroke in- dicating how lasting or powerful is the characteristic. The spiritual nature is the op- posite and is indicated in the high reaching looped letters as in "h," "k," and "1". These stems appear to be reaching heavenward while the body of the letter remains on the ground or near the writing line, indicating a tendency to ideal- ism and reverence. The qualities of these traits are shown by the slope and pressure of the writing. Anyone tvishing a more complete analysis please send self -addressed stamped invelope to Box B, room 421, 73 Adelaide St. West, Toronto. . There is no charge for this service HUSBANDS WHO ADORE coffee deserve Maxwell House. It's so utterly deli- cious that it's bought and enjoyed by more people than any other brand of coffee in the world. ISSUE S3â€" 1»47 Sunday School Lesson Advice Against Strong Drink. Proverbs 20:1; 23:19-21, 29-35; Ecclesiastes 10:17 Gulden IcxI.-lVine \s a mocker, strong drink is raging; and whoso- ever is deceived thereby is not zL-i.<;e."â€"Troverbs 20:1. Alcohol is delusive. (1) Wine makes a man a scoriier. It makes him .scoff at holy things. It deaf- ens him to warning and reproof. (1!) Waywardness is the inevitable effect of strong drink. It causes his victim to stumble. It sends him to prison. He loses his liberty, and often his life. (S) Wisdom calls for total abstinence. , â- â-  1- * . lntem|)ciame is grapliically pic- tured in the woes of wine. In six burning (luestions the terrible por- trait is drawn "Who hath woe"â€" with its sum total of earthly wretch- edness; "sorrow"â€" with anquish of body and remorse of conscience; "contentions" in meddlesome quar- rels and brawls; "comiilaining" â€" in foolish lial)!)lc and cynical com- ment; ''wounds without cause" â€" wliethcr by accident or on imagin- ary provocation; and "redness of eyes" â€" causing impairment of vision and of judgment. The answer completes the pic- ture: abstinence is the path to per- sonal and public welfare. Look not upon the wine whetting and arous- ing thirst, delighting the eyes, gra- tifying tlic appetite. Happy is the land whose rulers are nobly born with good back- ground, unfettered faculties, educa- cational opportunities, religious pri- vileges, and training for maximum service. Their habits are wholesome even to their food and feasts, for they eat for strength and not for drunkenness. They take their du- ties seriously and perform them faithfully. They are strong and sober. No Premium ^ It has been announced that weather bureau experts in a certain locality will no longer be paid • wage premium for working nights. ^lUl^ tlKre is a certain rougk jijsticc Id tliat. The locality in question is the Arctic;' where the nights are sue montlis- bng. Experimental balloons with re- cording instruments have reached altitudes of more than 22 miles. School of Experience The Sliool of Experience is on a seven-day week, year-round basis, with no vacations or holidays, says the Daily Commercial News. And you don't get a boost in pay and other concessions for making mis- takes in the School of Experience; you pay for your mistakes out of your own pocket. Dr. Chase's Ointment j^r Chafing, Skin irritations ^j/jV ' Babu Eczema' " i Protect thsm with GreenC---^ Garden Guard, which contains 50% more rotenone than ordi- nary derris dusts. Deadly to insects, but nou-poisonous to humans, it's especially suitable for Tegetables. 1-lb. siJO comes in a handy pumper gun. ROTENONB GARDEN GUARD (Derrit Dust) *Reg'd. trait-mark FOR MODERN PEST CONTROL "NUGGET" GIVES A BRIGHT, LASTING SHINE-THAT REALLY WATERPROOFS YOUR SHOES; iMUGGBTpVu^H fUMJimafefisfA^e/ RECIPE Add 1 envelope Royal Fast Rising Dry Yeast and 1 tsp. sugar to 1 c; lukewarm water. Stir and let stand 10 minutes. Scald 1 c. milk, add 9 tbs. sugar; add 2 tsp. salt and cool to lukewarm. Add to yeast mixture. Add 3 c. sifted flour and beat until perfectly smooth. Add 4 tbs. melted shortening and 3 c. more sifted flour, or enough to make easily handled dough. Knead well. Place in greased bowl. Cover and let rise in warm place until doubled in bulk, about ly^ hours. Punch dou^h down in bowl and let rise again in warm jplace until nearly doubled in bulk, about 40 mia. When light, roll out into rectangular sheet \i" thick; Brush with melted butter or shortening; cut into strips \.\i" wide. Pile 7_ strips together; ait into piece 1" wide. Place inch- side up in greased muffin pans. Cover; let rise in warm place, free from draft, until light, about 1 hour, Uake in 400°F. oven for 20 minutes; a* r 4 -*' - I A. Ji^