Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

114 Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section The Round-Up (Continued from page 54) WHY / USE A "NATIONAL BOB" "First of all, bobbed hair is fashionable. And then it does really make me look younger. But why sacrifice my beautiful hair ? I wear the " National Bob " and nobody knows the difference. It matches my hair perfectly and I have it on and off in a minute. Yes indeed, I bought it direct from the manufacturer for $10 postpaid. All I did was to send a strand of my hair. Believe me, it is the best little bargain I've bought in a great, great while. Certainly can, match your hair." Exclusive Agencies Open to Dealers and Beauty Specialists NATIONAL HAIR GOODS CO. 368 Sixth Ave., Dept. P. NEW YORK Flower Drops— the most concentrated and exquisite j'trfume ever made. Produced without alcohol. Asingle droplastsa week. Bottle like picture, with long glass stopper. Rose or Lilac $1,50: Lily of the Valley or Violet $1.75; Flower Drops Toilet Water, charmingly fragrant. 6-oz.bottleB $1.50; Flower Drops Cold Cream l&c: Flower Drops Talcum glass jars 50c. At drucgists or by mail. P E H F li«ME * toil|tAvater flbwcrttops Rieger's "Men Amour" and •'Garden Queen" high-grnde perfumes $1.50 an ounce. Rieger's "Alcazar/* a new Oriental perfume of mystic charm, $2.0() an ounce bottle, **Alcazar" Toilet Water— better than most perf u mes — 4 ounce bottles $2.00. •'Honolnlti Bouquet" — our latest perfume— $1.00 an ounce. Send $1.00 for souvenir box of five 25c bottles, different odors. PAULRIEGER. 154 First St..San Francisco VANITA Makes Beauty Vrnita, the newest, tjiostdeIiKhtful [(rt-naration. h^nishes wrinkles, climinatea blemishes, gives a Kioriou3 new complexion and hand, some figure. E[idor.--i'(i by dozens of refined Iadie». A semi-solid cream fur masBaKPandniirhtly use. COSTS BUT 75c a month. Send for a month's supply or free circular. C. PARK HUMPHREYS 1 recommend the use of Vanita to al) who are troubled with any facial ^q/.7u » t Dl.:uj„I-l,;* blemiahea. BuTH Stonebouse. 450/ Hazel Ave., rniladelphia Sagebrush looked at him curiously, then went to call Jack. Jack emerged and stood overwhelmed at seeing Dick standing before him. In a moment he recovered and planned. He seized Dick's hand and tried to seem cordial and joyous. Dick Lane read a message of perturbation in Jack's shaking voice. "What the matter, Jack?" he demanded. 'Where's Echo?" Dick started for the house. Jack quickly stepped before him and raised a warning hand. "You mustn't go in now — you see, she's not been well. The shock might be too much for her." "You are right. Jack," Lane responded. "You tell her I'm here and I'll wait in the garden. And say, Jack, I promised to pay up for that grubstake the minute I got back. Here's the money." Dick pressed bills into Jack's unwilling hands and turned him toward the house. "Tell Echo I am waiting." Buck McKee, sulking by the hedge, saw and overheard. At the door Jack paused and drew Sagebrush aside. "I want you to stand there and don't let anybody at all in. Echo's happiness is at stake." Dick, wandering in the garden, impatiently walked about the house until he was in range of a window. He stood frozen at what he saw. The wedding ceremony was in progress. He could almost hear the words. "For as much as John Payson and Echo Allen have consented in holy wedlock — " Dick turned and walked to his horse. His face set hard in the hour of his torture, he rode back into the hills from where he had come. WEEKS passed and no clue to the slayer of Old Man Terrill had been found. It was still the matter of gossip everywhere, more especially at the Florence saloon. Slim there overheard Buck McKee drunkenly declaiming: "Well, for my part, I think Jack Payson did it — he was the last man that saw Old Man Terrill alive — and where did he get that three thousand he paid off the mortgage on the Sweetwater ranch with?" "You lyin' halfbreed, I'm a friend of Jack Payson's," Sheriff Slim broke in. "You're coming with me and face him," Bud Lane accompanied the Sheriff and McKee. It was a curious group that gathered on the porch at the Sweetwater ranch. Echo and Sagebrush, standing by Jack Payson, facing the sheriff. "Jack, there's a few questions, I^" Slim cleared his husky throat, "a few questions I want to ask you. Where did you go by yourself that day you were married?" "I went to the express office and got my wedding present for Echo." Jack was firm and cool. "And where'd you get the three thousand you paid off the mortgage on this ranch?" Jack flushed, went cold and stood silent. "Why don't you tell them, dear?" Echo spoke ever so softly. "I— I can't." "In that event I'll have to put you under arrest." Slim spoke with evident pain at his official necessity. "Slim — I can explain this thing to you — but first I must have a few words alone with my wife," Slim nodded assent. Savage Buck McKee objected. "It's a frame-up, men," he shouted to the gathering cowboys. "It's a frame-up to let this guilty man escape. Let's take the law in our hands and have a little necktie party right now." A mob was born of the moment. But they did not justly measure Slim the sheriff. In a flash he covered McKee with a revolver and swept the crowd with its mate. "You'll deposit your shooting irons with Mr. Sagebrush there and leave peaceably or the sheriff of Pinal County will take action immediate." Slim's blue eyes blazed. He won. They left. Inside the ranch house Jack poured out his confession to Echo, of his duplicity about Dick Lane, of Lane's coming the night of the wedding, the payment of the money and all. "You must bring him back to me." Echo, dry-eyed in her grief, drew back from her husband. In the hard silence of his misery, forgetting quite the waiting sheriff, Jack Payson seized his rifle and saddle bags, stalked out and, mounting his horse, rode away, on the long trail in quest of Dick Lane. Echo was dumfounded in her 'emotions and grief. She ran calling into the yard. Sheriff Slim appeared. "Jack has gone — Jack has gone — I sent him away — please, please, bring him back." "That's what I'm sheriff of Pinal County tor," answered Slim. And shortly a posse was riding on Payson's trail. But Lane joined the posse. It was a long hot quest that led at last to Fort Grant, the outermost post of civilization in the lava bed country. "Payson outfitted here a week ago and struck straight into the Indian country," the officer in command told the sheriff. "Troop F is leaving tomorrow to round up a bunch of renegades out there. You'll stand a better chance of findng your man if you go with them." OUT in the hell-blazing rocks of the lava beds at the Apache spring Dick Lane lay unconscious, his life all but gone, when Jack Payson overtook him. Riding again at the head of his red raiders. Buck McKee crossed the two trails leading toward Apache Spring. An evil light came to his eyes. He reconnoitered and saw Jack Payson bending over Dick Lane with his canteen in hand. McKee read the story at a glance and grinned. Here, out under the desert sun in the wild waste, he had the two men of all the world whom he wanted most in his power. He signaled his waiting Indians and they closed about the spring in a circle. Jack leaned close to Dick as he revived. "I've been hunting you for weeks — to bring you back, Dick. Echo wants you. I lied to her — she thought you were dead." Dick, weak but hot with hate, flamed up. "Jack, I ought to kill you for this." Payson spread his arms in a resigned gesture. "All right, I'm ready." Dick shook his head. The men faced each other with their problem between them. "Dick — you'll find my horse there, and the pack mule, loaded with grub and water. You take them and go back to her — I'll stay here." "It's justice, and I'll do it," Jack answered and rose. Buck McKee peered over a rock, raised his rifle and fired. Dick fell with a bullet wound in his leg. Together, they took cover of the rocks at the spring and stood battle with the Indians. A lull came. Again Payson urged Dick Lane to go, while yet he might. "No, I'll stay and fight it out beside you." Every advertisement in PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE I9 guaranteed.