Indianapolis Times, Volume 38, Number 332, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 April 1927 — Page 14

PAGE 14

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CHAPTER LI (Continued) Frankly looked dubious. “I don't know.” she said, ‘‘Joyce is sensitive. She might think that she wasn’t worthy—” “Franky!” “I didn’t meant that,” said Franky hastily. ‘‘No one believes in Joyce more than I do. But she might think all this talk had, well had cheapened her.” Deke stared at the fire. *‘l can’t go to her now,” he said. ‘‘l wouldn’t know how to write to,her. It isn’t a thing to write about unless she writes me first. I’ll just have to wait, Franky. Joyce will write, or come to me, when she's ready.” Weariness settled on him again and Franky yearned over him. They shook hands when he left. ‘‘We’ll stick, Deke,” she said. ‘‘Bless you, yes,” he answered with a touch of his old manner. ‘‘And when I hear from Joyce you’ll be the first to know.” CHAPTER LII. . News of Joyce Deke watted three days. Still no word from Joyce. He buried himself in work at the plant and felt that slowly things were picking up, that with a few weeks more of forcing through his reorganization scheme he would be able to weather the summer slump and look forward to a winter of prosperity. But all Ids grueling work at the plant did not deaden the longing that tugged at his heaft for some word from Joyce. He telephoned Franky daily. But she had heard nothing further and could only bid him be of good courage. On Wednesday just as he had settled down to his morning work Franky-4vas announced. ‘‘Hello, Deke,” she called. ‘‘Hello, yourself, Franky Starret. Don’t you know I’m a busy man?” But he went to her and took her hand. ‘‘Any news”” ha asked. Franky shook her head. ‘‘No, but I've come to give an order,” she said. ‘‘l want you to write to Joyce, today.” Deke looked at her doubtfully. “No, honestly, Deke. I haven't heard a thifig, but I’ve been looking at this whole matter and I think you ought to write to Joyce. I have an idea that she is waiting to hear from you, and I want you to write to her. Please, Deke.” “I don't want to urge her to come to me unless she is really ready,” he said slowly. "Oh Deke, you make me tired. Look here, I’ve got to go away for a few days with mother and father. And I want you to mail that letter before I go. Please. Write it now. I’ll run along, but I’m coming back to take you to lunch with me this noon and we're going to mail that letter to Joyce at the postoffice, together.” “Haven’t got a chance to escape, have I?” he asked laughing at her earnestness. “Nope. Better write It yourself or I’ll do it for you and sign your name to it and maybe say the wrong thing.” “Are you going to ask me to read my letter to Joyce aloud to you?” he teased. Franky made a face at him. “I’ll see you at once,” she said. “I’ll be ready, with a letter in my hand.” “You’d better, or I'll change that letter to a lily and lay you out cold.” She flashed out of the door, leaving Deke with a warm feeling of friendliness to her. “She’s a loyal soul,” he thought. Then he pulled a sheet of paper toward him. He stared at its blankness for a few moments. Then he reached for the telephone. I’ll be vefty busy for an hour,” he told the operator. “Don’t send in any calls or let any

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one come up. I’ll call you again when I’m at liberty.” Then he began to. write. “Dear Joyce,” too formal. He tossed the sheet in the waste basket. “Darling Joyce,” not formal enough. Another sheet went after the first. “Joyce” •—Sounded like a memorandum of his feelings. The third sheet fluttered to the floor.%^ “Joy girl:” Deke looked at the words. Yes, they would do. They were his old name for her. They would tell her tlte moment she looked at them that she was still enthroned in his l^art. “I have waited and waited for tvord from you and none has come. Won’t you write to me, Joyce? I want so much to hear from you. I want to see you. Will you let me come to you? You must notvbelieve for a moment that I have credited the gossip that, has reached me. I know my Joyce. And I love her. May I come, Joyce? Soon, please, for I must see you. “I knew nothing of your trouble until I returned to Cleveland Sunday. I had been constantly on the jump since the day I left and had been too weary and discouraged to Write to you even. Believe that if I had known you needed me. I would have dropped everything and come to you. I am ready to do that now, if you will say the word. “Franky, who also awaits anxiously to hear from you, tells me that you are with your father and mother. I am very glad, for I know how much it must mean to yod to have your home again. - ’ “Let me hear from you at once, Joyce. Remember that I love you as I always have and always will. “DEKE.” “Perhaps she'll write. Or maybe she will telephone me,” he thought hopefully as he read the letter. He was waiting for Franky on the steps when she drove up for him at noon. He flourished the letter at her. “Don’t you wish you knew what was in it?” he asked as he got ir beside her. “Oh, I know,” she said, tossing her head. “I got one from Johnny boy this morning.” “You don't think for an instant that your John Brent cares as much for you as I do for Joyce?” he asked, “Smarty. More than that.” And Franky hushed and looked divinely pretty. “We’re gong to be married in August. I know that’s an awful month to be married in, but .John is going to be the professor of something I can’t pronounce at Western Reserve this fall and we want a little time for a honeymoon before he starts lecturing to classes.” “Bon voyage, Franky,” said Deke, moved by her happiness and a little envious. Franky flashed him a grateful look. “Here we are,” she said and drew up before the postoffice. They went to the mailing window together. “Wait,” Franky commanded, glancing at the letter. She ran to the stamp window. “Careless boy,” she scolded coming back with a special delivery stamp. “I haven’t any street address just the little town. She’ll not get it any quicker,” he protested. |

“But it will look like you’re.in a hurry,’’ she answered watching the letter disappear into the letter slot. Then she took Deke's arm and led him off to a large and hearty lunch. When they parted she leaned out of the car to show him a key. “Do you know what I’m going to do? This is the key to Joy’s apartment. I’m going up to give it a good sweeping and dusting, so it will be ready when she comes.” Deke smiled at her buoyant faith. He hardly shared it, and as he turned back to his neglected work Joyce seemed far away. The telephone rang in the Daring home the next day. Joyce answered it. “This is Mrs. Elkins at the postoffice,” came a voice. “Got a special delivery letter for you. I can’t send It up but you can come down for it now if you want. It’s from Cleveland.” “Thank you,” Joyce said stiffly, "I’ll come down presently.” It was probably from Judge Perkins she thought. And Mrs. Elkins hoped that it was from Carter and that she could have something further to report of Joy’s conduct. She put on her hat and walked slowly down the street. She was leaving for New York at the end of the week, for several days she had refused to leave the house, anxious to escape the curious glances that

Daily Dozen Answers'

Here are the answers to questions printed on page 4: 1. The angel comforts Elijah in the wilderness. (I Kings 19:5 i 7). 2. The proper arrangement is: David harp player Paul tent maker Caiphas high priest Matthew publican p e t er fisherman 3. She was thrown to the pavement from an upper window. (II Kings 9:30-35). 1 4. Josiah. II Chronicles 34:1). 5. Ahasuerus the king put away his wife Vashti for disobedience and chose Esther from the virgins of the city. (Esther, chapters 1 and 2.) 6. He was hanged on the gallows he had built for Mordecai. (Esther 7:10.) 7. Judas Iscariot. (John 12:3-5.) 8. A Jew who led a futile insurrection in Jerusalem and was killed. (Acts 5:36.) 9. Tabitha, or Dorcas. (Acts 9: 36-41). 10. Cornelius. Acts 10:1-8.) 11. Two. Hobert C. Baltzell, Indianapolis. Thomas W. Slick, Soutii Bend. 12. The Prohibition Department, now the Bureau of Prohibition.

followed her wherever she went. Now she felt indifferent. Nothing mattered, since Deke had not written to her. She inquired for the letter and took it from Mrs. Elkins’ hands without glancing at it. “Maybe you’ll want to send an answer," the postmistiess suggested. “It’s got a man*B handwriting on the outside,” she added. Joyce made no answer, but walked out of the postoffice still holding the letter unnoticed in her hand. Halfway up the block she looked at the address. She stopped still and looked at it again. There could'be no doubt of it. It was from Deke. Her heart beat to suffocation. She felt that she must be somewhere alone, at once. She must know what Deke had written, yet she must be able to hide her grief if he had not renewed liis declaration of love for her. She flew home and up the stairs to her room. “Joy girl” then he still cared. She began to cry and read the rest of the letter through her tears. Deke wanted her. He would have come to her if he had known. He wanted her now. She had only to say the word and he would come to her. She saw herself meeting him at the station. And suddenly she saw too the curious glances, the whispers that would follow them. “I don’t care what people say,” she said passionately to herself. But she knew that she did care. Now she sat holding the letter, looking out of the window. If Deke had heard the story only from Franky he had heard nothing of the ugly side of it. Franky would be loyal, Joyce knew. Then would it be fair to send for him, or to go to him, when she knew that perhaps for years this vile scandal would rear its head and threaten their happiness. How would Deke’s mother, his sister, his failing father, feel a}x>ut his marriage to a girl from whom all their friends and acquaintances shuddered away, 'Perhaps Deke would have to struggle for years to get on his feet financially. Would he let her help him with the money that had come to her? Would that make up for the tarnished reputation she brought to him? Joyce did not answer Deke’s letter that day, nor the next. Her father and mother asked no questions. They left her alone in the evenings to fight her battle out, but her white face and troubled eyes haunted them. “I wish shp would come to you and talk it out,” John Daring said as they turned homeward from a walk to the village. “I do too. But those years when I was away so much I lost Joy’s confidence. It will be a long time if ever before I regain it. Our Joyce

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is a woman now and must think things out for herself. Joyce might have floundered in her slough of despond for many days more, but for a diversion which occurred when the station taxi lumbered up in front of the house and deposited Franky on the doorstep. Joyce sow her and ran down from her room to greet the visitor. “Franky!” “Joyce!” \ They were embracing each other, half laughjng half crying. Then Franky held Joyce off and looked at her. “Have you written Deke?” she demanded. t - Joyce shook her head and began to cry. “Joyce Daring, I could shake you. Deke’s eating his heart out for you and working his head off at the same time. Haven’t you got a grain of sense?” They went into the house and after a few words with Mrs. Daring who hurried to the kitchen to dress up the family supper, Joyce took Franky to her room. “How did you get here?” Joyce asked. “Mother and father are in New York, some kind of business jaunt father had to take and I came with them, just to see if you were here or had gone back to Deke or were expecting him. Now tell me, Joyce,

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why haven’t you Written to him? There’s only one real excuse.” “What would that be?” Joyce asked. “That you don’t love him.” “Oh,” Joyce protested, her face full of pain. “You know I love him.” “They why?” Franky began helplessly. “Don’t you see?” Joyce answered. “I’m not the same girl he loved a month ago. I’m a girl name has been dragged through the papers, whose reputation is shot to pieces. A girl people talk about. Why even here they point at me in the street.” Franky looked at her. “Well, of all the damned nonsense,” she said. “One would think you’d really done all the things they say you have. Get your pen, Joyce, your’e going to write to Deke now.” (To Be Continued) (Copyright, 1027) Famous Features Syndicate. Inc.

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