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"HE THAT RESTRAINETH HIS LIPS."

young and poor, and he pitied meand wanted to take me away and take care of me. He thought I was too good for the life I lived-I reckon good men always think all girls are good-but he didn't know how I had been raised. Oh, none of you here, in your safe, God-fearing homes, can ever know how some people are raised! When he first brought me here, I never even thought of trying to be good-not until my children came, like angels knocking at the door of my soul. And when I got to know what a good man Lem was-I had never known any good men before-and what it was to have a good man like him, and little children to love, it made me want to be good, too. And I hated the thought of what I had been. I was sorry, and ashamed of how I had deceived him, and all of you, and I tried with all my strength to make up for it in every way I could. But I had not fooled GodI could not deceive Him-and when He put forth His hand and took back the children He gave me-took them back one by one, as the blood was wrung from my heart drop by drop, I knew then that He was paying me the wages of sin. I saw myself just as He saw me the liar, the cheat, the unclean, the false wife"

Lemuel started, and caught her arm, white to the lips:

"Stop, Elizabeth! You are beside yourself. You don't know what you are saying," he said, in a low, choking voice, his hand trembling upon her

arm.

Joe Bailey's wife gave her husband a quick glance as she noted that half the people looked at him, while the rest stared at Elizabeth-and Joe caught his lip between his teeth and his face turned red.

"Yes, I do, Lem. I know what I am saying, and I know what it means for me, but the time has come when I can no longer lie to God and man. And I will wear the mask of deception no more. For twenty years I have known that the day would come when the bars would be let down and my spirit

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would come out into the open. For twenty years I have been struggling and fighting with the fear of the knowledge and praying for strength against the day to come. And when Brother Rumble said we must confess our sins and lay bare our hearts that they might be cleansed of evil, I knew that the message was for me. I knew that the day had come at last when my soul must be stripped of its stolen garments and stand before you all, naked and ashamed. And now I have laid down my burden at the feet of the Lord, and whatsoever cross He bids me take up in its stead, that will I do gladly. My faith is in Him, and though He slay me, yet will I trust Him forever!"

"Amen!" cried the preacher, somewhat huskily, and without looking up. There was a moment of tense silence

during which the people sat shocked and astounded. Some looked uneasily at the preacher's averted face, but the most of them stared at Elizabeth, still standing with outstretched arms, her face uplifted, in her eyes an indescribable expression-one in which the rapt look of spiritual exaltation was strangely blended with one of yearning human appeal.

"Amen!" cried the preacher again, and seemingly arousing himself with an effort. "Yea, my sister, the Lord heareth the cry of the penitent soul, and His mercy endureth forever! Take up the cross and follow Him!"

Old Brother Dobbin's quavering voice broke forth:

"Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow thee.
Naked, poor, despised, forsaken,
Thou henceforth my all shall be!"

And the congregation, with evident abstraction, took up the solemn hymn, while Elizabeth sank down beside her silent husband and laid her shaking hand upon his. "Lem," she said, imploringly, in a panting undertone, "oh, Lem!"

But Lemuel gazed straight in front of him, and his hand did not move un

der hers. And a sudden terror fell upon her, as one who wakes alone in a strange, dark place. That night Lemuel Gale died suddenly alone in his room. His wife could only say that when they came home from the meeting he had gone straight to their room and laid down upon the bed, complaining of a pain about his heart. She had gone out about some domestic duties, she said, and upon her return, had found him lying just as she had left him, his right arm across his face.

Thinking he had fallen asleep, she had put her hand on his head and found that his was the sleep that knows no waking. The Gales had weak hearts-his mother went just that way, some of the neighbors remarked. And some others remarked that they noticed a bottle marked "poison" on the mantel shelf right over his head-and Lem was always a proud sort o' man-and who knows? Anyhow, it was curious, and nobody knows. No, nobody knew, but they all knew enough, they thought, to agree fully with poor, distracted Elizabeth, that the blow was dealt in punishment for her sins by the God she had tried vainly to disarm by confession. Also, they agreed fully with God that she deserved it.

But it was her death blow. For one year she lingered among them, though not of them, dwelling alone in her desolate home, a leper, a shunned pariah, shut out from the fellowship of those godly people. Then she died, humbly hoping to find Lem somewhere in another world, and win from him there the forgiveness he refused her in this.

And some of those godly women, when they saw her hands folded so peacefully upon her breast-such little white hands they were when she first came among them-tried hard not to remember how stained with sin they were, and some tried still harder not to remember how tenderly those same little, thin hands had always ministered to the sick and laid out the dead -how capable and willing and gentle they had been with all the erring, the troubled or the suffering.

Remembrance is a two-edged sword, it cuts both ways.

And Joseph Bailey is now a deacon in his church, and is regarded as an authority on the sinfulness and danger of levity and worldly pleasure. He is a rigidly righteous man, very strict in all his views, and very much given to calling himself a brand saved from the burning-a sinner saved from the jaws of hell!

A PACIFIC SUNSET

Up from the depths of the sea where the coral caves encarmine
Limitless leagues of light that filter from above;

Up from the yellow beds where the amber glimmers dimly;
Up through the mingling flood of blue and amethyst;

Straight from the pearl and the pink that pave his shell-strewn

pathway;

High on the crest of the wave great Neptune, smiling, springs;
Swift with a sweep of his arm he draws his dripping trident,
Striking the dull gray clouds with a painter's subtle skill.
Then in a nuance soft all ocean's mystic symbols
Blend in a pageant frieze in the tints of the sunset sky.

LANNIE HAYNES MARTIN.

The Infallible System

By Captain Leslie T. Peacocke

Author of "The Turning of the Worms," "Soft Snaps," etc.

T

HAT'S an easy combination -12345. Any fool can remember that."

"Yes: that's the way Chris Dalton gave it to me," said Roy Kent, relinquishing the sheet of paper heavily covered with figures, to his chum, John Raymond, and watching his face anxiously as he scanned it. "It was worked out by a professor of mathematics at Oxford University, and it's the same system that the fellow they called the Jubilee Plunger' broke the bank at Monte Carlo. It's as easy as pie, too."

"Sure. They're all easy until you come to play 'em," agreed Raymond, dubiously. "Has he ever tried to work it?"

"Why, of course; that is, he claims he has-up in Goldfield, when the boom was on, and said he was doing fine until they caught on he was working them, and then they cut him down to such a small limit that he couldn't win."

"How do you mean, cut down the limit?" queried Raymond.

"They limited his highest stake on the even chances-red and black, or odd and even-you can only work this system on the even chances, you know. Well, they limited any single stake to twenty-five dollars, and the smallest chips were ten cents, so you can see what chance he had if he came up against a run of bad luck."

"Well, we'd have the same difficulty, wouldn't we?" queried Raymond.

"Not if we work it right. You see,

down in Arizona they've been gambling at roulette for so many years, and have had so many darned fool systems worked against them that they'll only laugh at us. I met a fellow who was in Yuma the other day, and he tells me that they play with five cent chips there, and give you a limit up to $50 on the even chances."

"And would that be big enough?" "What, fifty dollars? Sure. We'd never reach that; not with five cent chips. Chris Dalton worked it out with me, and he's going to lend me a small roulette wheel he has, and says we can try the system out for a month if we like before we start in to work it in Arizona."

"Yes, we'd have to get it down good and pat," said John Raymond. "And I suppose he'd help to demonstrate the proposition?"

"Sure: he volunteered that himself, and said that if we can find a single flaw in the system that he'll refund the whole two hundred dollars. We can't ask fairer than that."

"Seems reasonable enough," agreed Raymond, marking down a fresh combination of figures on the sheet of paper. "As far as I can see, Roy, if you only win one out of three spins you break even. It's practically a two to one chance in our favor."

Roy Kent banged the table enthusiastically with his fist. "That's exactly what it is," he exclaimed. "Two to one on us every time. Here, I'll show you how it is again," and reaching for a sheet of paper, he moistened his pencil and put down the following

figures-12345. "There," he said, and his chum leaned over and watched his pencil closely. "That's the combination. Now, you take the first figure, which is 1, and the last figure, which is 5, and start your first bet. 1 and 5— that's 6. Well, if you lose that, you add on what you have lost-that is 6 chips-to the tail of your combination -making it 123456-see?"

"Yes," said Raymond. "I'm getting to see it, all right. You take the first and last figures all the time and add them together and make that your bet, and every time you lose you add on the amount you have lost to the tail of your combination. That's the idea, isn't it?"

"Exactly. Here, we'll start a fresh combination. Now, every time you win, you strike off the first and the last figures until you use all the figures."

"I see," said Raymond. "And then you start the combination afresh?"

"Yes; 12345, and go on as before; and every time your combination has been worked out, you will find that you'll have won 15 chips. It's just like clock work."

"Sounds like Monte Cristo with a dash of Rockefeller on the side," grinned Raymond, his eyes glistening at the prospect of untold wealth. "But suppose you're betting on the red, and the marble drops to the black a great number of times in succession? Supposing you have a big run of bad luck? How then?"

"Makes no difference, if the limit is big enough. Takes you longer to finish out the combination, that's all. You see, every time you win you scratch off two figures, and every time you lose you only add on 1 figure, so the combination has to work itself out. And the beauty of it is that you can be playing the red and I can be playing the black, at the same time, and we'll both be winning."

"I don't see how you can make that out," said Raymond. "It don't seem possible."

"Why, sure," cried Kent, delightedly. "That's the beauty of it. That.

is where we'll have them locoed. We'll both be working the same combination. One of us will be winning out quicker than the other, but we'll both be winning right along."

"Well, I'll be darned!"

"Yes, as far as I can see, it's great," said Kent, rising and stretching his long, athletic frame. "We can clean out every gambling joint in the United States and then hike over to Monte Carlo. I'll go and get that roulette wheel from Dalton, and some boxes of chips, and we'll work the thing out to a finish. Any fool can see it's the right dope, though."

John Raymond agreed with him, and after the other had gone out, sat figuring the combination with increasing relish, for strange to relate, the two somewhat impecunious young clubmen had unexpectedly come into possession of the unique but simple mathematical problem that had, some years before, been thought out by the scientific master of mathematics at Oxford University, and given by him to his wealthy and reckless young pupil, the famous "Jubilee Plunger," who promptly put it to account by testing it on the tables of the Messieurs Blanc, with the result that is well known in European gambling circles.

In less than an hour Kent returned, bearing a miniature roulette wheel and several boxes of chips. He was accompanied by Chris Dalton, a middleaged Spring street broker, who, for the sum of two hundred dollars, had sold them the secret of the combination, and who was, according to his promise, perfectly willing to demonstrate how in even-chance gambling the worker of the system could consistently win out.

At their request he took the bank and spun the wheel; the two young men each backing one of the two colors, red and black, and each working out their respective combinations, glowing with increasing enthusiasm as they augmented their stack of chips slowly but surely.

After some two hours' play the large

THE INFALLIBLE SYSTEM.

pile of chips with which the banker had started had found its way to the workers of the combination, and they then started afresh, and kept steadily at the game for the best part of two days, at the end of which time they declared themselves satisfied that the broker had parted with the secret of the combination at an amount far below its value.

Neither of them being particularly well in funds, they could not reward him as they wished, but promised him a reasonable share of the wealth which promised to be theirs in the almost immediate future. Dalton gravely thanked them, and told them that he would greatly appreciate the promised large sums of money, but did not appear to be unduly enthusiastic, nor did his eyes glisten as avariciously as did the others.

"What gets me is why you haven't gone on working this game yourself," John Raymond declared. "What was your reason for selling the secret to Roy for two hundred dollars ?"

"Well, in the first place, I'm not a gambler," replied Dalton, "and even if I was I couldn't go on playing that combination for long. It's too much like work."

"How d'you mean, too much like work?" queried Kent.

"It's too much of a sameness. You have got to play at least ten hours a day to make it worth while, and you've got to keep your wits about you every minute you're playing."

"You've got to do that in any business," argued Raymond.

"Yes, but wait till you strike a gambling joint and you'll see what I mean," returned Dalton. "You see, you have to play very small stakes so as to keep within the limit, and the monotony of winning the same amount every time you finish the combination gets on your nerves. I'd rather break stones than keep at it for long. The sound of the marble running around the wheel drives you nearly crazy."

"Oh, we shan't mind that," said Roy, cheerily. "As long as we rake in the dough, a marble running around won't

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worry us. What I want to know, though, is why that Jubilee Plunger fellow gave up playing the system, and how he ever managed to go broke the way he did."

"Because he was a born gambler, and the monotony of playing the system got on his nerves, I guess. He took to playing reckless, and ended up by keeping a bunch of race horses and shooting at the clay pigeons, and all the sharpers in Europe got after him. It's easy enough to make money if you know how," said Dalton, sagely, "but it takes a fellow with a level head to keep it. I don't want to discourage you fellows, because you've got a good thing in that system, but take my word for it, you'll soon get tired of winning."

The two optimists laughed at his fears, and again thanking him warmly as he took his final departure, set about preparing for their excursion to the gambling towns of Arizona, having pooled their joint available cash, which, in all, amounted to something over two thousand dollars.

It was evening ere they reached Yuma, and could scarcely control their impatience in their desire to test the infallibility of the system. After a hurried meal, they set off up the street in quest of a likely gambling place, which they reckoned would not be difficult to find, as every second house in the town boasted itself a saloon, from which the sounds of a jingling piano and the rattle of chips made inviting bids to enter.

"Now, the main thing that Dalton warned us against is to look out that we don't bump into an electric wheel," counselled Roy Kent, as they brought their steps to a halt outside the Red Dog, which had caught their fancy, it being the most prosperous and imposing looking saloon in the street. "He said he struck an electric wheel once and it nearly cleaned him out."

"How are we to know an electric wheel from one that's on the level?" demanded John Raymond. "All roulette wheels look alike to me."

"It's pretty hard to tell 'em, Dal

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