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She looked so youngâ€"hardly more than a girlâ€"and yet Chittenham knew that she had been through the divorce court, and through experiences of which no woman need be proud. “Please tell me ” she said again and now there was a little breathIeSS catch in her voice that‘ seemed to speak of a And it Was the fault of this woman who sat beside him, speaking of Rod- ney with that little note of pretended distress in her voice. He shrank a little from her with a feeling of re- pulsion. Women were all the same, heartless and selfish. He felt her eyes upon him. “Tell me the real reason?” she said. Chittenham turned his gaze from the wet road and looked at her. There was a little flush in her cheeks and her eyes were deep and unfathomable behind their thick dark lashes. ll . . . . . I’d like to think you were making her pay. I believe I could even manage to laugh in Hell, or wherever I shall go, if I knew that you were making her suffer as she’s made me sufferâ€"” And he thought of Rodney as a boy â€"â€"a. little cheery fellow whom he had adored . . . of Rodney in his first Eton suit, shy and ‘a little awkward, trying to feel older than he was . . . ‘ of Rodney . . . oh, the pictures came crowding fast and thick, leading up to that one last picture which he had nev- er seen save in his hitter imaginationâ€" Rodney dead! In some strange way he felt as if Rodney were close to him, at his elbow prompting him, whispering the words of that last tragic letter. “If I told you the real reason you would not believe that either,” he said deliberately after a long pause. Chittenham sat staring before him with frowning brows. This woman was more than a match for him and he knew it. “I told you. To see if you are real. ly as defiant of Mrs. Grundy as you pretend.” She shook her head. “That’s not the real reason. though yesterday I pretended to believe you. There isn’t anything at all dreadful in you and I taking this ‘drive together. I’ve often done more risky thing‘s. We’re doing a perfectly harmless and ordinary trip which plenty of other people have done before us." She laughed. “Oh, no, that’s not your real reason for wishing to come, I know.” “It would interest me exceedingly, Mr. Chittenham, to know the real rea- son why you wanted to come with me” She did not answer for a moment or two then she said with a note of ex- asperation in her voice: The deep sincerity of her voice sur- prised him. She almost sounded dis- tressed instead of being utterly heart- less and callous about the tragedy as he knew she was. “It seems rather pitiable,” he an- swered in a hard voice. “He must have been unbalanced to take his life as he did.” She shivered a little. “You don’t think then . . . . don’t you think it was an accident?" Chittenham looked steadily at her. “Do you?” he asked She shook her head. “I’m afraid not . . . but oh, wasn’t it dreadful?” WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE Giles Chittenham, distressed over the suicide of his younger half-brother Rodney, returns to L'urope from Amâ€" erica, where he had made an unhappy marriage. Rodney had killed himself because a notorious woman, Jule Fur- row,4threw him over. Giles is intro- duced to Julie Farrow by his friend Lombard, in Switzerland. He resol- ves to make her fall in love with him, then throw her over as she threw Roda ney. She tells him she has made a‘ bet with her friend “Bim” Lennox that she can drive her car to the top of the St. Bernard Pass and back. Giles challenges her to take him with her and she accepts. They start out ini the face of a gathering snowstorm. Phone--Willowdale 96W POYNTZ AVENUE LANSING, ONT. NOW GO ON WITH THE THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 4th, 1930 W. N. Mabbett ELECTRICAL ‘ CONTRACTOR SECOND INSTALLMENT STORY It was a very watery sun upon them when they sta and great banks of clouds ing up thi‘eateningly. TE: steeper and more difficult passed the little huddled St. Pierre. He made no answer. and Julie began to pour out the coffee. Suddenly she laughed, and shrugged her shoulders. “After all, it’s silly to be angry with you. I ought to know better.” “You mean when I told you that I loved you? Has it always been non- sense when men have told you that?” | “You talk as if such a thing were an everyday occurrencegas if I were a horrid kind of a woman who went about collecting scalpsâ€"” “Don’t quarrel with me before we are half-way there! If you go on getting angry at this rate you will skid on the edge of a precipice and that will be an end to both of us.” “I’m not angry, Iâ€"oh, well, I sup- pose I am, but it’s your fault. Why ‘did you talk such nonsense?” They faced one another across a small table, and as their eyes met Chittenham said with a smile: Julie brought the car to a standstili with a little spiteful jerk, and passed him with her head in the air and walked into the cafe. “We will be there in ,twenty minut- es,” Julie said with a little savage in- tonation, and they were. “I thought you liked plain speaking,” Chittenham said calmly. “If I am mistaken I apologise.” He glanced at his watch. “We ought to be at Martigny in half an ohur unless you Martigny in half an hour unless you down in the ditch.” a little afraid because she longed des- perately to know. Chittenham seem- ed to read her'thoughts for he said quietly: “Well, what is the verdict?” “What do you mean?" “Have you made up your mind as to Whether I am in earnest or not?” “I know you are not.” Chittenham laughed. ‘ “You mean you think I am not, but} ‘all the same you hope I am.” “Mr. Chittenham!" There was anger and amazement in her voice, and her cheeks g'rew sud- denly scarlet. or had he? Julie was su1‘pi‘ised énd She glanced down into Julie did not answer; she was not listening. Her thoughts were in a whirl, and she was trying in vain to steady them and to reduce them on‘ce more to sane stability. “Even Napoleon met his Water- loo,” Chittenham said. He laid a hand over one of hers that held the driving wheel. “I can’t understand you, Mr. Chit- tenham. If it’s aâ€"a jokeâ€"I don’t think it’s quite good taste, and if it’s not a joke . . . I keep remembering what Rodney said of you, that you de- spised women, that you had never carâ€" ed more for one than for all the rest.” Chittenam said no more, and it V she who presently broke the silence. “I don’t understand you," Julie in a jerky little voice. deep sincerity and interest which she was trying in vain to conceal. Chittâ€" enham asked an apparently irrelevant question. “Do sight? He had not been serious, of cofirse 9n you believe in love at first ,nks of clouds kept drift- ;eningly. THO road grew more difficult once they little huddled village of hell they started away, "Do You Believe in Love at Filst Sight?” that shone 01109 they Ohittenlaam ordered some brandy Village Of and made Julie drink it. ‘Very few people to-day, sir,” the the valley very well. “And we shan’t get any said was He half led, half lifted her into the hotel and put her down on a bench in the narrow hall. “Come along. We’ll get something hot to drink. By Gad! it’s bitterly cold.” 1 Chittenham uncurled his long legs and got stiffly out of the car, then he came round to Julie’s side and took her hands. I “I’ve won so far,” she said, and leaned back, closing her eyes with sudden weakness. The east wind was like a cutting knife as Julie brought the car to a difficult standstill, and ht her hands ‘fall from the wheel. “I won’t say another word,” Chitâ€" tEnham agreed, but there was a mal- icious little twinkle in his eyes. “You ought to have brought a coat,” :Julie said once. S}! was very cold and there was a set, strained look round her mouth. She had not ex- pected the road to be so bad, and once for twice at a particularly bad corner she caught her breath with a little gasping sound. Chittenham heard her and knew that she Was afraid, but he made no com- ment. It served her right he thought for being so boastful and confident. As they climbed higher out of the valley, the wind grew colder and more cutting. The road was steeper and wider. There was very little vegetation on the bleak sides of the mountains, and what there was was short and stunted, cowering away from the bleak wind that swept down upon them. “I am conceited enough to think that I could make you like being made love ‘to," he said quietly, and then as she ldid not answer he asked. “Will you \dare me to try?” (KN0.” He leaned back in his seat re- signedly. “Then we may as Well go on.” It took a moment or two to restart the engine. ‘ To his amazement he saw the tears 'YOU- spring to her eyes. - made “Do you imagine that I like either?” 0f “1 she faltei‘ed. comm) Chittenham leaned forward suddenâ€" ly and kis§ed the hand nearest to him that rested on the steering-wheeL on their left and gave a little startled exclamation. _ They could see nothing ’for the clouds which lay spread out I everywhere like an enveloping blanket. “One moment you pretend to make love to me, and the next you sneer ‘at meâ€"” “Would you like me to drive?” he asked quietly. She recovered herself with an effort. “I am not tired,” She insisted. “Nor going to faint?” he asked with irony. “It gave me a shock. I did not ex- pect to find such a dreadful corner." “I warned you,” he reminded her. “I know you did, but you do it in such a wayâ€"it only makes me want to defy you. I have never met a man quite like you before.” “m what way am I different?” Julie hesitated, biting her lip, then she told him. “It Will make it difficult driving back," said Chittenham. “I know these mountains rather well, and I know just what unkind tricks they can play on the optimistic traveller. I should slow down a little if I were you, Miss Farrow, there is a nasty corner here.1 It turns very sharply to the left and there is a big drop on one side.” I She only just pulled the car round in time, and her face was White. “And which do you prefer THE LIBERAL, RICHMOND HILL, ONTARIO ACCIDENTSâ€" AND YET MORE ACCIDENTS I Supposing sofnething happened to YOU. What provision have you made for weeks and perhaps months 'of medical attention with nothing coming in? Accident Insurance re- lieves financial and physical sufl’ering mafia-3"? _ v.“ «Mu-a “It looks as if we shall have to stay the night,” Chittenham answered un- compromisingly. She turned and looked at him, her eyes still wet With tears. “I suppose you think I’m a fool,” she submitted in a hard little voice. (Continued Next Week) With a great. effort she Controlfed herself. “I don’t know either,” she s tween little sobs. “It’s just I suppose. This hateful place “Do you think it’s any better?" Julie asked anxiously. Chittenham glanced out at the flying blizzard. “I think it’s worse," he said briefly. She turned on him angrily with flash- ing eyes. Chittenham looked at her silently, and then suddenly, to his utter amazement, she burst into' tears. “Julieâ€"" he made a quick move- ment towards her, then stopped, shru- . . ‘ ggmg hls shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re crying for.” he said shar- ply. . ' The woman for who: had gone to his death pulled himself together and moved away. He tried to open the window a little, but such a gust of wind and snow pel- ted into the room that he had to close it again. “Now we really are on the top of the world,” he said. “Just you and I alone, Julieâ€"I am sure even you have lnever had an experience like this be- fore?’ She shook her head. “No. And I’m not sure that I‘want it againâ€"” “Why? you are quite safe.” “I know but . . .” she laughed ner-‘ i “It it?” she laughed. “How funny when it‘s summer down in Montreux. Chitbenham got up and went to stand behind her. .more by the look of the sky. “What do you mean ?” “There’s snow colring sir.” Chittenham went to the door and looked out. “It’s snowing already,” he; said. Office in the Post Office Block TEL. 1 18 Richmond Hill Nine men shown in the illustration above have a total service of 391 years 5 ent at the Motive Power shop of the Canadian National Railways at Point St. Charles Montreal. This gives an average oi’ over 43 ars for each man, but the senior has t e amaz- ing record of 63 years, while the junior is a mere youth with 27 years behind him.°This oup was photographed outside the cor of the old she , now closed, through which they ha made their daily entrances and exits. The sho s are older than the men, dating bac to 1857, a period of 72 years. This shop has now given Way to a. __J-___ AAA . ulc- modern étructurer caBé-bfilgs Juiylealing A. G. SAVAGE Railwazi ShoE Workers Give Long Service ° ler,” she said be- “It’s just nerves, e sake Rodney Chittenham with an effort no... .uu .uun. arc. J. 1 Wigg, ‘20 years service; A. Lanthier, 44 years; Sandy Welch, 43 years; Thomas A. Bates, 50 years; J. C. Marchand, 27 ears; D. A. Rollo 30 years; Frank,0' eilly, 48 years. in the ’insert left, standing besxde one of a set of drivers, is W. H. Sargeant, locomotive‘ inspector, who has been 63 years‘ in the service, and continues active and alert. At the right, in the doorway, is W. H. Surgeon, erecting shop foreman, with 44 years efficiently with the heaviest tyfie of motive power, absolutely the last word in machine shop equipment in the Dominion. right thé the years. What infinite care and preparation were necessary to call it into being. From the far corners of the globe came silk and cotton while the earth yielded up its copper ore. Famous scientists, engineers of renown and workers skilled in their particular operations have all contributed to produce these connecting sinews of modern communicatiOn. In the Northern Electric Company’s great plant at Montreal the finest copper tinsel is covered with silk and cotton threads then twisted into cords of the necessary size and, passing through the most intricate machinery, is covered with a braided silk covering. All this must be done right, if the humble telephone cord is to carry the nation’s conversations; through Tho vnnra In the standing oup from {by the‘mgn ar‘e; . Iwigg, 4 Only 3.. Telephone Cord" but! STONE, GRAVEL SAND AND PEA GRAVEL Supplied on Short Notice. WIRE FENCING and CONCRETE CONSTRUCTION WALTER BfiNE & SON I‘vvigg, 43_7yéa_i-é Phone Maple 864 left to service. The O’Reillys, of which Frank shown at the extreme right is a sturdy representative, have had three gener- ations in the company’s service with a total of 108 years. Of the Surgeons, grandfather, father and son have been in the shops, and in the case of Mr. Rollo his father came from Scotland to work on the construction of Victoria. Bridge and afterwards entered the service. Throughout the shops at Montreal, and elsewhere, there will be found numbers of men who have spent thirty, forty and even fifty years in the service of the Canadian National Railways and its forerunners. PAGE SEVEN