“(ommmv'
A Romance of ihe Horih Atlantic
8YN0PSIS.
CHAPTER I—Robert Hollis, one-time
eea captain, who tells the Btory Is a
guest on Gerald Carrington's yacht Es
meralda. It la supposed to be a “stag"
party and Hollis Is surprised on discover
ing a woman, who evidently wishes to re
main unknown, aboard.
CHAPTER II—Hollis, the next night,
■ucceeds In having an Interview with the
woman. She merely tells him her name
Is Vera.
CHAPTER III—Carrington tells his
guests of the coming wgr, and that he
is engineering a copper pool.
CHAPTER IV—The yacht Is sunk In a
collision and Hollis saves McCann, mil
lionaire, arid one of the party.
CHAPTER V—Hollis and McCann res
cue Vera and leave the ship In a small
boat.
CHAPTER VI— Hollis and Vera become
friendly, though he Is unaware of her
Identity.
CHAPTER VII—McCann refuses to sub
mit to Hollis' authority, and the latter
enforces it.
CHAPTER VIII—The castaways are
Sighted by a ship, the Indian Chief, which
takes them aboard.
CHAPTER IX—The Indian Chief has
recently been struck by lightning und is
almost a wreck. All the officers are dead.
Hollis meets the owner, who tells him
the vessel has a cargo of ammunition,
consigned to the German government
CHAPTER X —Hollis consents to take
charge of ship and continue voyage. Vera
recognizes an old friend in Robert
Bascom, owner of the Indian Chief.
Bascom and McCann are deadly ene
mies.
e-n/vt-rKR XI - TMssatlsfactlon among
the crew qub-kly develops, and Hollis
selects his officers.
CHAPTER XII—MoCann wants to retu
to New York, and tries to corrupt crew.
CHAPTER XIII—Hollis finds himself
rorced to confine M't'ann to a cabin.
CHAPTER XlV—Vera and Hollis agree
that for Bascom's sake the ship must be
taken to Its destination. Hollis learns that
Vera Is Gerald Carrington's duughter
CHAPTER XV—The crew, realising
danger of capture by allied warships,
evince disinclination to continue voyage.
CHAPTER XVI—leaders of the crew
onarm Hollis and make him a prisoner.
CHAPTER XVTI—In a fight with the
mutineers Hollis Is badly hurt. On recover
ing consciousness he realizes that he must
submit, though, being the only navigator
on board, he is In position to make terms
with McCann. He Is made & prisoner.
CHAPTER XVIII—Vera pretends to
agree to McCann's plana, to Hollis’ won
der.
CHAPTER XX—McCann aucceeds In
deceiving commander of warship, which
goes on its way. Hollis la recaptured.
CHAPTER XXI—Vera and Hollis reach
understanding by which they will outwit
McCann.
CHAPTER XXII — Vera acknowl
edges her love for Hollis. McCann,
Hollis. “IJverpool Red,” and the lead
ers of the mutiny have a conference.
"CHAPTER XXIII—Hollis realise# that
McCann and his followers are preparing
to abandon the ship.
CHAPTER XXIV—Vera releases Hollis
and he frees the men loyal to him, who
had been confined by McCann.
'CHAPTER XXV—McCann seeks to
compel Vera to go with him In the small
boat, but the girl Is rescued by Hollis.
McCann and his followers escape.
CHAPTER XXVI—Hollis and the few
men who remained loyal successfully
navigate the ship through a storm. They
overtake the vessel's boats, in extrem*
peril.
"CHAPTER XXVII—McCann and his fol
lowers, after agreeing to recognise Hollis'
authority are allowed the freedom of
the ship. Dubois, a sailor, is found
murdered, stabbed from behind.
"CHAPTER XXVIII Efforts to ascer
tain (tho was the slayer of Dubois re
sult In the conviction that there Is a
maniac aboard. Another man is found
dead, and all realise Bascoin. who can
not be found, Is the murderer.
CHAPTER XXIX—While searching for
Hascom It Is discovered that the ship is
on Are.
"CHAPTER XXX—Hollis, Vera, and the
rest, escape In the ship's boats, but Baa
co'n. In insane rage, holds his enemy,
McCann, and both are destroyed when
the ammunition explodes. After a short
time In the bouts the party sights a ship,
apparently abandoned.
- - j^ llt '
CHAPTER XXXI.
A Death Ship.
It was God’s miracle that we lived
and kept afloat; that we were not
sucked under, or crushed Into drift
wood. To this day I know not what
occurred, or how we held upright.
There was a crash, n crunching sound,
a mad plunging of the tortured boat
under us. My hands gripped vnlnly at
the Steel sides slipping past—then sud
denly the wild rnce ended with n jerk,
with a leap of the boat through a surge
of water drenching us to the skin, and
we struck the schooner’s side u blow
which, It seemed to me must crush
every plank Into atoms. I held Vera
to me ready for the end, but Leayord
yelled wildly:
“That's it Red! make fast there!
make fust! Lively now, herore we go
down. The mlzzen chains. Olson! Up
you go, my lud—hy heaven! he made
it!”
t I was on my feet now, understand
ing It all. realizing the value of each
second, knowing that the shattered
boat musl he sinking under us. I also
got grip on the chains, and the three
of us held on desperately. Bed hauling
the single rope end taut, and looping It
about the thwart.
"Here, Olson; reach your arms
down; take the woman first there s
no time to wait for help. Now. Vera
quick, girl; the bout Is sinking under
us.”
She stepped onto my shoulders,
grasped the chains to steady herself,
ytpysd Qlsuu's luuuL fiunrns hfir
vrnrd, and was drawn safely in. I
turned to the others.
"Make fast, Ited. There is nothing !
. more to be done but get out. One at
a time now; here. White, you're crip
pled, go first—hoist him up, Masters ;
now ease In there, Olson—good enough.
You’re next. Masters.”
Leayord and I were the last, and we
left the dinghy swamped behind us.
dangling and crushed against the steel
side of the schooner, upheld only by
the strength of the rope. It was all
the work of a feverish minute, in
which thought was impossible because i
of the stress of action. But now, as I
clung breathless to those lower mizzen
ratlines, the seven of us jammed upon
the little platform, the green surge of
water below slushing against the !
wreck we had just left, the strange si
lence of this vessel which we had j
boarded struck ine with full force. In
heaven’s name, what could it mean?
It was broad daylight; if there was a
man alive aboard, he could never have 1
failed to see or hear us in this fierce j
struggle for life. Yet no one was vis
ible; no sound of voice wits heard; no !
face peered over at us above the rail, i
It was like n ghost schooner, and I felt
the very heart of me chill ns I stared
Into the blank faces of my huddled
companions, and along the shiny sides,
and the deserted rail.
“This Is a rum go, sir,” ventured
Leayord soberly. “Ain’t she got no
crew ?”
“I don’t know what to make of it,”
I confessed, “but we’ll soon find out.
Help the lady, Leayord. Olson, come
with me.”
We footed the ropes, and swung up
to the roll, clinging there long enough
to gain swift view of the deck beyond.
It was as clean as a millionaire’s
yacht, and had the appearance of one,
with brasswork glistening, and paint
fresh and bright. Kvery rope seemed
coiled in place, the sail gaskets firmly
tied, the planks spotless, the canvas as
white as though just out of the sall
loft. My eyes surveyed the whole fore
and aft—the low forecastle, the cook’s
galley, with door standing wide open,
revealing u tireless stove, the boats in
chocks, not one missing, the after
cabin on the deck level, its companion
door ajar, the wheel ustern, outlined
ugulnst the sky, swinging slightly to a
"My Heavens, Olson; There’s Not a
Sailor on Deck.”
lushing of rope-—and nowhere a human
being. I could scarcely believe the evi
dence of my own eyes.
“Heavens, Olson; there’s not a sailor
on deck," I gasped.
“No, sir; it beats me; I’ve been at
sea a long time, sir, but I never see
nothin’ like this—they ain’t left, fer
the boats are all there, an’ the wheel
is lashed. She’s Just a sailin’ herself.”
“There’s no sign of any trouble
aboard. Why, those decks are scrubbed
like a Dutchwoman’s floor. Hurry up,
Leayord; the schooner seems deserted.
Come on, mate, we shall have to clear
this mystery up.”
We sprung down on the deck, and
the others came tumbling over the rail
after us, each face expressive of mys
tification. Vera touuhed my sleeve,
her eyes searching mine.
“What can have happened?”
“I do not in the least know," I an
guess at. There has been no storm, '
no tire, no evidence of desertion, every
boat seems to be in its proper place. |
The only thing I can think of as pos
sible is drink. The whole crew may
be drunk, but that seems like a dream.
However, we can't stand here doing
nothing. White, you are not of much
use with that broken arm, so remain
alongside Miss Carrington. Keep your
eyes open. Leayord, you and I will
have a peep into that cabin; the rest
of you take the forecastle. Be careful,
luds, but don't miss anything—scatter
now."
I slid back the companion door, and
entered slightly in advance. The cabin
floor was on a level with the main
deck, and its glass front flooded the
Interior with light. A glance revealed
everything, and I stood motionless, my ^
breath caujjbt In my throat, my lynnd
still gripping the edge of the door.
I was aware that Leayord peered in
across my shoulder, and heard his
startled lips utter one muffled exclama
tion. It was a low-ceiled apartment,
painted white, with ports along the
sides, the only staterooms being aft.
A bright-hued rug covered the floor,
and there were leather divans under
the ports. The table In the center was
fully set for a meal, covered with a
white cloth, and glistening bravely
with china and glass. There was food
In abundance, partially eaten, and
wineglasses half filled. I snw all these
details; I recalled them afterwards,
yet In that first Instant of horror, the
Impression left upon me was merely of
those silent, motionless figures sitting
upright In their chairs. It was a grew
some sight! A great monster of a
man faced me. his white, ghastly face
appearing above a shaggy gray beard,
his sightless, open eyes, staring full
Into mine. A wineglass had fallen
from his opened fingers, and lay bro
ken on the deck. Indeed, everyone
had apparently died ns by a stroke,
retaining exactly the posture last as
sumed In life.
To the right of the broad-shouldered
riant was a thin, young fellow, senree
y out of his teens, but with a hard,
repulsive face, and at his left a dark
raced man almost a negro, grinned hor
ribly, as though death had stricken
liitn even us he laughed. Nothing
•ould be more awful to look upon than
lie glentn of his teeth, beneath the
hintastic curl of his mustache. There
vere six altogether, five sitting upright
n swivel chairs, screwed to the nock, !
ir leaning forward with heads resting j
m tlie table. The sixth, gray-haired j
ind partially bald, had fallen side- j
ivays, and lay in a shapeless heap on |
he rug. They had the look of sea
nen, and were roughly dressed, three
if them plainly foreigners, one with
•Ings in his ears. The big man alone
possessed the appearance of leader
ship.
I saw all this in that one swift
dance. Breath had not come sobbing
lack to me, when Leayord’s hand
■rushed my arm and his voice rumbled
n my ear:
“See. captain ! they’re dead ; they’re
ill dead!”
“Yes,” I answered, choking over the
vords, “there is no doubt of^thnt.
Something terrible has occurred here,
'all—call the other men.”
T heard him stumble out through the
•ompanion door, and the roar of his
,'olee as he shouted to those forward;
could distinguish the sound of their
'eet on the deck, hut eould not remove
ny gaze from that awful sight In the
;nhin. The eyes of that giant dead
nun, staring at me so fixedly across
he table, held me its in a vise—there
vas something so ghastly, so terrible,
ibout their expression, as to rob me
if all sense, all courage. The men
joined me, Liverpool entering in ad
vance, and pushing past where I
stood. I have no recollection of seeing
he others, although I felt and heard
heir presence. But I saw' him—
narked his sudden stop, the quick
danching of ids face, and the sharp
lath which burst from his lips, the
;w!ft. Incredulous look of surprise, of
ecognltion, which leaped Into his eyes.
Te was staring straight Into the ghast
y face of the giant opposite. I doubt
f he even saw’ any of the others.
“Heart of the devil!” he shouted.
If it Isn't Gaston de Lys! So you’ve
;ot It at last, you old hound.”
He leaped forward, circled the table
idth a single stride, hate, memory,
vhatever the Impulse might be, con
luerlng all fear, and gripped his hand
mrd on the dead man’s shoulder. And
hen he stiffened, every muscle of his
iody stricken; I could see death strike
dm, his jaw set, his eyes fixed—an
nstnnt he stood rigid; then his whole
orm seemed to contract and he fell
Ifeless to the deck.
I sprang toward him, but Masters
:rlpped me, and hurled me back.
“Hands off — all of you!" he
creamed. “Wait! Don’t lay a finger
m any of them; you are dead men If
■oil do.”
“Wlmt do you mean? What Is it?”
“The most diabolical hit of deviltry
>ver contrived," he answered. “These
lien have been killed by electricity;
he current Is still on. I heard the
,vhlr of the dynamo as I came aft.
">on’t move until I find the switch and
llsconnpct; for God’s sake stand where
rou are.”
Perhaps he was gone five minutes;
r could never tell; I saw nothing hut
hose dead men; heard nothing but
lie heavy breathing of my mates In
he doorway. No one spoke; hut once,
t seemed to me, I caught the throb of
that deadly dynamo, yet even as I
leemed to distinguish the faint sound.
4 olmiinfU' Xfocforc niichiiil In
rinst dip.
“Ay, thnt was the truth," ho said,
‘hut It’s safe enough now. Lord; did
you over hoar of such a d-, cold
blooded crime. See here, men, the Vil
alii planned his job well—here are
Ihe wires along the dt'ek. pressed into
i seam, and connected to each swivel
■hair. See. the circuit Is complete, and
no on<* would ever suspect. All he hud
to do was stand hack there In the stew
ard's pantry and press the switch.
Those six men died before they could
wink an eye.”
“But the fellow who did It? What
has become of him?"
Masters shook his head.
“I don’t know, sir; but there must
have been one; there ain't none o’
these dead men could have turned the
trick.”
"Perhaps It was that cuss dangling
over the side, cnptaln,” said White's
voice, from hack behind the others.
“What Is thnt?”
“There's a fellow got jammed In a
small boat alongside, sir. I just hap
pened to look over, and saw' him u
liangln’ there/’
We were glad enough to escape thai
cabin of horror, and I slid the com
panlon door to, and bolted it, before
following White across the deck t<
the starboard rail. Excited ns T was
obsessed by this awful tragedy, rm
mind yet grasped every detail—tin
shining brasswork, the spotless decks
the white boats in their davits, the
snowy canvns aloft. The very ini
ninculateness of the vessel seemed tc
add to the horror, and it was a shock
to even rend the schooner’s name
painted on a lifebuoy—Rose of Gaspe
A glnnce below revealed the whole
story of the accident. It was clear
enough to be rend Instantly by a sail
or’s eyes. The man In bis efforts at
escape had chosen one of the smaller
boats, but one staunch and well
equipped. No doubt It had been secret
ly prepared in advance, 'or the lock
ers contained food, and a bevker of
fresh water was securely lashed to a
front thwart. There was also a spar
nnd sail aboard, snfely secured, to
gether with a pair of serviceable oars.
What had happened, as seemed clear
to us, was this: a heavy brass-bound
chest, of odd workmanship and dingy
appearance, bad been stowed away in
the bows. It must have been placed
there with rope and pulley, for no
single pair of arms could ever have
lifted It over the rail. Then the fellow
had clambered in, enger to he off, no
Mount, nnn unnerraken to lower the
bo.it, standing probably amidships,
where he could manipulate both ropes.
Rut the forward rope must have
jammed in the pulley, permitting the
stern of the suspended hoat to sag
suddenly enough to send the heavy
chest sliding aft. Before he could
check the fall, or snve himself by leap
ing overboard, It had pinned his legs
against the stern sheets; and there he
dangled still, his face buried In the
green water alongside, hts knees
crushed helplessly beneath the weight
of the chest—an inert dead body.
“The fellow got his, sir,” said T.ea
yord solemnly. “Likely enough killed
by the very thing he was tryin’ to
git away with. What shall we do with
the boat and what's in it, sir?”
“Untangle that pulley slowly, and
hoist up even with the rail.” I an
swered. “We’ll have a look at the man.
and find out what’s in the chest; it’s
nn odd-looking affair.”
I helped balance it, and with White
using his uninjured nrm, we drew the
lead man’s body in over the rail. The
two mates released his limbs from the
grip of the chest, and we laid him out
on the deck. TTp was an ill-looking
fellow, deeply tanned, with a livid scar
across one cheek, and nn anchor tat
tooed on his forearm. I.eayord drew a
paper out of the inner pocket of his
'•Do You Agree to This, Mr. Leayord?"
dilrt, and passed It over to me. It
>vas a letter with no dateline or slg
lature, and had been so soaked in salt
■vnter as to he almost illegible. The
inly connecting words I could study
>ut were: “De Lys has all his men hut
1 cook; try to get on! He’ll never
snow you after these years.”
“Does It tell you anything, sir?”
isked Olson anxiously.
“Not much; only this fellow sailed
is cook, and got the job for u purpose.
He had known De Lys years before."
“Do Lys?”
“Yes; that was the nnme of the big
fellow in the cabin; be must have
ieen at the head of the pnrty; the one
Liverpool knew us Onston'de Lys. Oet
flint chest onto the deck; no doubt
fhe secret Is there.”
CHAPTER XXXII
A Secret of the Sea.
We wore compelled to resort to rope
nnd pulley, nnd then sen roll through
[he dead man’s clothes to discover the
key. Even with that found, It required
the sharp edge of a hatchet to force
>pen the cover. As It lifted, the sight
was greeted with cries of astonish
ment.
“flood Lord, sir, It’s money, and a
Btack of It I”
“English nnd French coins I”
"Aye, and Spanish!”
White’s voice broke In above the
babble, the old harsh croak I remem
bered so well:
“Well, see here, lads," he shouted,
"whose Is all this gold, anyhow?
Ain't It just naturally ours? It’s sure
no good to these yere dead men, an’
there wa'n’t nuthln’ else good aboard
when we come. Then why ain't it ourn
now to divide share an' share about?”
“We undoubtedly have a claim,” I
answered, “for salvage; and If the
heirs of the rightful owners are un
able to prove themselves Justly en
titled to the gold, perhaps we might
hold the entire uiuount."
“I'iftle I” snorted White, “whut’s the
use o’ all that poppycock! These fel
lows likely enough stole the money, or
else dug it up somewhere. It never be
longed to them eny more’ll it does to
us. Nobody knows the stuff even ex
ists. Why should we go around tellln’
about it? I’m fer dividin' it up square
between the five o’ us—no, by heav
ens, I'll count the girl for a full
share—the six, and never su.vln’ nuth
in’ about It when we go ashore. Ain’t
that the best way, mntes?”
“Do you agree to this, Mr. Leuyord?"
I asked suddenly.
He lifted his eyes to mine In be
wilderment.
“I don't just know, sir," he stam
mered. “It doesn’t seem exactly the
square thing—is it, sir?”
“No, it’s not,” I answered firmly, and
I slammed down the cover, locked it,
and put the key in my pocket. “Now
look here, men, and you particularly,
•Tim White—this isn’t our gold. I do
not know who it belongs to, or how
I these dead men ever came Into Its pos
I session. Rut there is a curse on the
stuff, which has already cost the lives
of eight men that we know of. No
one has touched It hut to die. I’ll tell
i rou fellows plainly Just what I'm going
to do. I'm going to sail this schooner
straight into St. Johns hnrhor, with
(hose dead men locked In the CRbln,
ind this chest of gold here unopened
on the deck. It Is going to he Eng
lish courts which will decide the own
ership of this chest and Its contents—
not Jim White. Are you with me, Lea
yord ?”
“Aye, aye, sir!” f * |e*
"And you, Olson?”
■ “I suppose thut's best, sir,” reluc
! tnntly. "I don’t want any trouble.”
I thought not; now fall to, nil of
; you, hncl shake the reefs out of those
j topsails. I'll take the wheel, and we’ll
I point the how toward port.”
The morning of the second dny the
I speeding Hose of Gaspe rounded the
1 northern head, and swept like a fair,
white bird into the beautiful harbor of
^ St. Johns. We tied up at Long Wharf,
j and. within an hour, I had told our
story to the port captain, and officers
of the marines had taken possession of
the vessel. That very afternoon the
five of us gave our testimony before
the maritime court, and were permit
ted to go free. Before leaving the
eourtroom the judge spoke with me
privately.
“This is indeed a strange case. Cap
tain Hollis.” he said, “and. perhaps,
(lie truth will never be learned, yet It
Is evident that you and your crew had
nothing to do with the death of these
men, or the possession of this chest of
money.”
“May I ask. Judge, if anything has
teen discovered tending to explain the
royage of the Rose of Gaspe?"
“Nothing satisfactory as yet. There
were no papers of value found to the
cabin—an excellent chart of the Lab
rador coast, a memorandum In French,
?o discolored as to be almost unread
ible, accompanied by a rudely drawn
tunp. and a list of the schooner’s crew.”
“What was the name of the cook?”
"He shipped as Gustave Montaln of
St. Clair. There is no such man known
!n that village.”
"And the leader, Gaston de Lys?”
“We And trace of him only for a few
months, Mr. Hollis. Where he came
from, and whither he went are thus far
unknown. Gaston de Lys appenred in
Placentia some two months since, ac
companied by one of the men who died
with him In the schooner's -ahln—the
one dark-faced-—like an Indian—and
sought among the fishermen there for
a certain type of boat. They were very
particular, stating they wished to leave
for n voyage of three months, repre
senting themselves merely as travelers
for pleasure who desired to cruise
nlong the Labrador coast. At last they
leased the Rose of Gaspe. from n man
of wealth, Richard Martin, who had
previously used the schooner as a pri
vate yacht. It was refitted and pro
visioned. and the crew arrived from
Halifax. None among them v>as known
In Placentia, but the inhabitants say
that only two or three among them had
the appearance of sailors. They put to
sea seven weeks #go. Beyond that we
know absolutely nothing.”
“But tlie chest of coins? have you
no knowledge as to where It came
i rom
“No more than a mere guess; there
is no guide. Beyond doubt this Gaston
do I.ys learned of its existence some
where in Labrador, and planned Its
recovery. The men with him also
knew what it was they sailed to seek,
in my judgment this must be n treas
ure of flic old Hudson’s Bay company,
lost and hidden a hundred years ago,
yet we can get no trace of such a dis
appearance of coin in the records. We
cannot deny its existence; it Is here
now in our custody, hut who its right
ful owner may be, will probably never
oe determined.”
“Then what will become of it?”
He smiled.
“That is rather a fine question of
law. I should say that you men who
recovered it at sea, have the best
claim, although it must be held Intact
for a certain length of time to give
any rightful claimant opportunity to
furnish proof of ownership. Of course,
In case no such claimant appears, the
government tnkes its shnee.”
“And the amount contained In the
chest?”
“Exceeded seven hundred thousand
dollars.”
I rejoined Vera at the hotel, stand
! ing beside her in a window' looking oitt
upon the harbor. Below us was thf
white schooner in which we had ended
our strange voyage.
“We are all free to go now, dear,” 1
| said. “The examination is all over.
“Have they found the owner of the
money?”
“No; they havtt noteyerythe slight
eat conception as to whom It originally
"We Are All Free to Go Now, Dear.”
belonged, or where It came from. The
law compels them to hold It intact for
the present.”
“For how long?”
“Two years, I think, then the greater
proportion Is given to those who recov
ered It—the state retaining a certain
share.”
Her eyes met mine.
“I wonder If you know where my
share will go, If I ever receive it?” she
asked softly.
“I think I do, and mine will be added
to It—to the mother and sister of
Philip Baseom.”
“Yes; and—and we may never know
who these men were, or the story of
their quest?”
“Most likely not; It will remain a
secret of the sea. Who was Gaston de
I.ys? Where, and how did he learn of
this hidden treasure? From where In
the Seven Seas did he gather togethty
the men who went with him? To \fhat
strange coast did the peaceful Rose of
Oaspe sail? What motives of hate, or
cupidity, led to the murderous crime
of Gustave Montaln? and how much of
the truth did Liverpool Red know?
had he lived, could he have lifted the
veil?”
She was silent a long while, ner hand
clasped In mine; then she lifted her
face, and smiled.
“It—it has been full of hardship, of
sorrow, yet, Robert, I love the sea.”
“And I, sweetheart,” I answered
earnestly, “for out of Us mystery Into
my heart has come the one woman.”
(THE END.)
MAN NOT DESCENDANT OF APE
Scientist Points Out Differences Be
tween Two Which He Defies The
ory of Evolution to Explain.
Dr. Mattoon M. Curtis, professor
of philosophy in Western Reserve
university, pro testa in a letter to
Science against the assertion, si ill
’ommon in current scientific litera
ture, that man is a descendant of
he anthropoid apes. He quotes Pro
fessor Duckworth, the leading au
diority in this field, who wrote in Ilia
‘Morphology and Anthropology:”
“We must conclude that the exist
ing anthropoid apes, constituted as
hey now are, did not figure in the
incestry of man.”
And he points out some of the
'undamcntal differences between,
nan and the apes, differences which
]efy any theory of evolution to ex
plain. Among these differences are
:hose in the form of the skulls, the
diape of the most ancient skulls that,
inve been found being substantially
Hie same as the shape of the skulls
)f today.
Professor Curtis pleads that sound'
science and sound education be based
upon actual facts and such theories;
is grow out of them, rather that*
upon mere speculations:' '' ”
CATTLE GET BEST OF GRAIN!
Grandparent* of Proaent Generation;
Were Stronp Becauae They At*
Whole Wheat Bread.
That there is a campaign asnong
the millers of wheat ami interests
allied to them to discredit efforts to
pcrsuade people to prefer whole
wheat hread to white bread is as
serted bv Dr. Charles E. Banks,,
-enior surgeon of the United Static,
public health service.
He says that present methods oC
milling utilize T5 per cent of the'
grain, and this is almost exclusively
ilie starchy part; the other 25 per
ent, containing the phospljorus,.
mineral salts, vitamines, etc., is sold
by the millers as feed for ho®fS and
atlle. These grow fat on it. for they
»re getting the best part of the;
wheat.
Doctor Banks says the diet of
while bread is responsible for Amer
icans of today being pale and anemic
in youth and fat and flabby at forty*
whereas their grand pa rents, who ate*
whole wheat bread, were strong and
milletie.