Today's Stichomancy for Dan Brown

batter and runner--that Lane in center-- isn't he just beautiful? He walks and runs like a blue-ribbon winner at the horse show. I tell you one thing, Connie, these Quakers are on dress parade.''

``Oh, these Quakers hate themselves, I don't think!'' retorted Nan. Being a rabid girl-fan it was, of course, impossible for Nan to speak baseball convictions or gossip without characteristic baseball slang. ``Stuck on themselves! I never saw the like in my life. That fellow Lane is so

The Redheaded Outfield

should like to know why old Lady Saint Ringan, and all that set, go about wasting their decayed lungs in puffing this foreign fellow."

"Ay--you had best set him down a Jesuit, as Scrub says." On these terms they parted.

The poor patient--whose nerves, from an extraordinary state of tension, had at length become relaxed in as extraordinary a degree--continued to struggle with a sort of imbecility, the growth of superstitious terror, when the shocking tidings were brought from Holland which fulfilled even her worst expectations.

They were sent by the celebrated Earl of Stair, and contained the

snowflakes were whirling thickly in the air. But Muller was not particularly anxious to recognise the stranger, as he had his head full of more important thoughts.

When Johann had given his new address and remarked that he would call for his coat soon, the men parted, and Muller returned to the police station.

The next day the principal newspaper of the town printed the following notice:

THE GOLDEN BULLET

It is but a few days since we announced to our readers the sad news of the death of a beautiful woman, whose leap from her