Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 281, Indianapolis, Marion County, 26 March 1926 — Page 32

PAGE 32

SA by ELENORE MEHERIN, Jfc Author of “CHICKIE”

"HAT has happenkd in the „ J STORY SO FAR sandy McNeil, in love with life, marries Ben Murillo, a rich Italian, to please 11/1"I 1 / 1 " impoverished family. Tryanny by Murillo and frequent quarrels follow. A son dies at birth. Ilob McNeil, her uncle, aids in plans for Sandy and her mother to take a trip to Honolulu. (here she meets Ramon Worth, saves her life in the surf. On the same steamer home he declares his love. Murillo says be will never release her. Judith Moore, a cousin, tells Sandv love is everything. Murillo overtakes her as she goes for a tryst with Ramon. He appears unexpectedly at a party she is giving for her friends. After the party he strikes her. She leaves his house and meets Ramon Worth, who drives her to his home, and overwhelms her wtih his kindness. JO ON WITH THE STORY FROM HERE CHAPTER LIX Sandy stood in a shadowed corner of an immense room. She Vouched the hooks on a shelf studerl the candlesticks before an immense Buddha. From her position >he could glance from the window framing that wind-blown cypress. It might have been the last, forlorn tree of earth so alone it appeared; so isolated there on the rocks against the vast, level waters. A tree on the very outposts of the world. She smiled imagining this—she and the tree and the dog the •bnly living things on a wayward shore. . Removed utterly from all human contacts—dwelling in elemental quiet. She drenched herself in this sense of isolation. She whispered into the pulsing stillness : “Alone —I'm here alone.” This filled her with a subdued, melancholy peace as though she were safe; as though nothing would happen now to infringe on the hush and calm. Sometimes moving about like this she would feel Ramon’s presence. She would open a book at some marked passage, then she would see his brown, laughing eyes turned on hers pleadingly; she would feel his hands; she would seem about to emerge from the shadows whispering: "I love you. Do you care? Will you care?” She walked more Quickly. Yet these images of Ramon were Unobtrusive. They came- and vanished. They did not alter the feeling that she was now cut off completely. with an utter finality from the whole world of her former life; the feeling that Murillo, his house, her friends, even her mother and Alice were now shoved utterly from the sphere of her life. * * * She wondered what had happened —what they were thinking. Yet she dreaded the moment of revelation. Down from the house was an immense field and this was now splashed with the first golden radiance of poppies. In an old coat of Ramon’s she walked through this. Quickly—because the flowers were so perky and bright like friendly little fairies—they made her feel the nearness of a happy world. Beyond this field were the rocks, j the white sands and the sea. Alone here, gazing exultant and sad at Point Bobos jutting into the waters, she said to herself, "I’m happy!”

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She took deep breaths of the stinging air, pretending to ignore the pinching at her heart. It was Friday. There would be a letter from Alice. Roman would forward it. Surely here now. He would direct it to his box under his name. She had the key to this. But she went reluctant. She took a long, farewell glance at the waters marching so blue and splendid to the shore. She thought, “I’d like to stay here always—always.’’ The letters were there. She rushed breathless back to the house. She said Impatiently, “Get down, Shaggy —down,” and put her feet lightly on the dog’s back while she tore the envelopes. He crouched on the rug, burrowing his head between his paws and, tying her with tolerant puzzlement. * * * The letter from Alice exploded with indignation and question. It was dated "Tuesday, midnight.” Through four pages Alice bristled and fumed. Finally wtjs this: Went to your former home the moment your letter came this morning and I’m still shaking with fury. I’d like to kill that Murillo shrimp. Needless to say I didn’t get your clothes, and I doubt if you’ll ever get them. The part that makes me wild is this....he came snooping around here Sunday., morning as though he’d been on a seven years’ bat. You can realize that I wasn’t in a mood to be very civil after his attitude Saturday night. Os course, I never dreamed what had happened after wo left. I’d certainly have knocked him for a loop and stepped on him. But he said, very casually: “Did Sandy drop in here? She said she might on her way from church.” I said: “Xo —but you’re welcome to wait.” He wiped his face, mumbled something and departed. I dare say he was scared stiff because you hadn’t spent the night here. I-never dreamed the real state o{ affairs, or believe me I’d have been panicky. Monday I phoned to know how you were. He answered and said you were out. Then I called again this morning before I got your letter. He answered again and said: “She’s out.” So I take it he’s been sticking close to home waiting for you to return and frightened into fits. This afternoon I went there, intending to grab your clothes and anything else that might be useful to you. Ida wasn't in. Your husband was. This is the conversation we had: “Where's Sandy?” Your husband white as a sheet, answers: "She's out.” Os course I had the goods on him so I said: “Seems to be out a great deal lately. Where is she?” “I don’t know.” I sat myself down, picked up a magazine: “I've got to see her. She usually returns about dinner time, doesn’t she.” “She doesn't do anything in the usual manner. I’d advise you not to wait. She may not come till all hours.” I nodded at him and before he knew my intentions I started up the stairs, calling to him: “I’ll leave a note on her bureau.” But your door was locked, Sandy. Think of it, he'd locked the door. Was he afraid you might come back and try to get your things? I bellowed at him: “Her door is locked.” He answers: “Is that so?” So I came down pretty mad. I said to him. "What’s the matter with you? Have you killed her 1 and locked her dead body up?” Gosh, I never say anything look sicker than he did -when I said that. His eyes got starey like the eyes of a dead fish. “She’s probably locked it. I have a key. I’ll open it for you and you can leave your note.”

So we went up, our heels clicking —very amiable-like. He opened it and stuck in the room, his arms folded, while I faked a message to you. Os course I couldn't grab your clothes then. So this evening at nine I phoned and at ten he got perfectly furious and shrieked; “She’s not come home!” I screamed back: “Well, where is she?” “I don't know!” “Hasn’t she come in since this afternoon? ' “She's not come in since this afternoon!” “Something may have happened to her.” “Nothing’s happened to her.’’. At 11 I phoned: “Has Sandy come home yet?” “She's nos come yet.” At 12 I phoned and before 1 had the “hello” out he yelled: “She’s not here!” I said: “What's thevmeaning of this. Ben Murillo? I'll notify the police. Has Sandy disappeared?” He banged up the phone. Now it's Wednesday morning and he’s just stalked out of the kitchen. He came through the grape vines a few moments ago, timing it so' that I’d be here alone. He walked right up and hissed in my face, \es, she's disappeared! Did you know about it? Where is she?” My cue was to look horror-strick-en. “Disappeared! What in the name of God do you mean?” He turned a sickly yellow. “Just that. She left Saturday nfght and hasn’t returned. You say she’s not here. I found out this morning that she’s not with May Arliss. Where is she?’' W ell, you can believe I gave him all he was looking for. I caught his shoulders and -shook him. the shiimp! I said: “She left Satruday night? Ben Murillo, did you do something villainous to her after we left? Did you force her to walk out? Admit it, or I’ll make it hot for you.” * * * He yanked himself free, almost I>OVT OVERLOOK A GOOD THING From Jas. Edwards, Montgomery, Ala., conies this letter containing a valuable suggestion.—“l feel like a new man since taking FOLEY’S HONEY AND TAR. Can sleep all night, soreness in my chest is gone, so is the bad cough. IVJy whole family use it for coughs, colds and croup, and it always helps.” Stops tickling in throat, nervous hacking, and puts a soothing, healing coating on a inflamed throat. D6n’t overlook HONEY AND T A R.— se^nent.

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OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

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choking with anger and alarm. “I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut if you’ve any regard for your sister. She’s not gone very far without hat or coat or money!” “You sent her out like that?” “I didn’t send her.” He said this and began clawing through his pockets. He brought out an envelope and nlropped it on the table. “I didn’t send your sister away and I suspect you’re in with her. She probably came here Saturday night. Where else did she go?” “Maybe she went into the ocean!” He gave a whining kind of laugh: “Not very likely! I’m leaving this letter for her with you. When you see her, I’d advise you to give it to hjer. If you know where she is, mail it to her. It will open her eyes.” So I’m enclosing the letter and I’m just bursting to know what he’s got to say. Please have the decency to let me know. I’m going to dash out to mail this now and I’m going to your house to make another trji for your clothes. Write me everything—” * * * Sandy tore open the letter from Murillo. She read it —a blaze wrapping her from head to foot. (To Be Continued) ’COUPLE WED 72 YEARS BALTlMOßE—Congratulations on their seventy-second wedding anniversary were recently received by Mr. and Mrs. Rezin H. Armacost at their home at llpperco, Baltimore County. He is 94 ! and she is 91.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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