Indianapolis Times, Volume 39, Number 283, Indianapolis, Marion County, 23 March 1928 — Page 32

PAGE 32

N V J Ji=f a

THIS HAS HAPPENED SALLY FORD is left at the State orphanage when she is four by a woman who says she is the mother, but who never returns. At 16 Sally shows a fenius for acting which sets her apart rom the other girls in the orphanage. She is “farmed out’’ for the summer to CLEM CARSON, a farmer. She meets DAVID NASH, a handsome young student who is working on the farm during the summer. PEARL, Clem’s daughter, hates Sally because David is plainly fond of the little orphan and determined to make Pearl and her crowd accept Sally as their eaual. One Sunday morning Sally is left alone In the kitchen while the Carson family goes to church. David sits on the back porch, book in hand, studying. They are surprised when Pearl returns suddenly from church and accuses Sally of having stolen her diamond pin. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY. a CHAPTER VIII SALLY stared at Pearl, color draining out of her cheeks and out of her sapphire eyes, until she was a pale shadow of the girl who had been glowing and sparkling under the sun of David’s affectionate interest. “I haven’t seen your diamond bar-pin, Pearl,” she said at last. “Honest, I haven’t!” “You’re lying! I saw you stoop and pick something up in front of the sofa last night. I was crazy not to think of my bar-pin then, but I remembered all right this morning, when it was gone off this dress, the same dress I was wearing last night. See, David!” she appealed shrilly to the boy, who was looking at her with narrowed, level eyes. “It was pinned right hefe! You can see where it was stuck in! Look!” David said nothing, but a slow, odd smile curled his lips without reaching those level, narrowed eyes of his. “What are you looking at me like that for?” Pearl screamed. “I won’t have you looking at me like that! Stop it!” Slowly, his eyes not leaving Pearl’s face for a moment, David trust his right hand into his pocket. When he withdrew it, something lay on his palm—a narrow bar of filigreed white gold, set with a small, square-cut diamond. Still without speaking, he extended his hand slowly toward Pearl, but she drew back, her eyse popping with surprise and—yes, Sally was sure of it—fear. “Where did you get that?” she gasped. “Do you realy want me to tell you?” David spoke at last, his voice queer and hard. “No!” Pearl shuddered. “No! Does she—does she know?” “No, she was telling the truth when she said that she hadn't seen the pin,” David answered, flipping the pin contemptuously to the kitchen table. “But next time I think you’d better put it away in your own room. And Pearl, you really must try to overcome this absentmindedness of yours. It may get you into trouble sometime.” Pearl shivered, seemed to shrink visibly under her fussy pink georgette dress. “Oh!” she wailed suddenly, her face crumpling up in a spasm of weeping. “You’ll hate me now! And you used to like me, before she came! You—oh, I hate you! Quit looking at me like that!” “Hadn’t you better go back to church?” David suggested mildly. “Tell your mother you found your pin just where you’d left it,” that contemptuous smile deepening on his lips. “You won’t tell Papa, will you?” Pearl whimpered, as she turned toward the door. “And you won’t tell—her?” She could not bear to utter Sally’s name. “No, I won’t tell,” David assured her. “But I’m sure you’ll try to make up to Sally for having been! mistaken about the pin.” “She’s all you think of!” Pearl cried, then, sobbing wildly, she ran out the kitchen door. “Guess I’d better not bother you any longer, or they’ll be blaming me if dinner is late,” David said casually, but he paused to pat the little hand that was clenching the table. Sally was so puzzled by the strangeness of the scene she had

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witnessed, so tormented by brief glimpses of something near the truth, so weak from reaction, so stirred by gratitude to David, that she was making poor headway with dinner when Clem Carson, who had not gone to church, came in from the barns, dressed in overalls in defiance of the day. “Got a sick yearlin’ out there,” l;e grumbled. “A blue ribbon heifer calf that Dave’s grandpa persuaded me to buy. I don’t believe in this blue ribbon stock. Always delicate —got to be nursed like a baby. I give her a whopping dose of castor oil and she slobbered all over me." He took the big black iron teakettle from the stove and filled the granite wash basin half full of the steaming water. As he lathered his hands until festoons of soap bubbles hung from them, he cocked an appraising eye at Sally, who was busily rolling pie crust on a yellow pine board. “Dave been hanging around the kitchen this morning, ain’t he?” Sally’s hands tightened on the rolling pin and her eyes fluttered guiltily as she answered, “Yes, sir.” “Better not encourage him. if you know which side your bread's buttered on,” the farmer advised laconically. “I reckon you know by this time that Pearl’s picked him out and that things is just about settled between ’em. Fine match, too. He’ll own his granddad’s place some day—next farm to this one, and the young folks will be mighty well fixed. I reckon Dave’s pretty much like any other young whippersnapper—ready to cock an eye at any pretty girl that comes along, before he settles down, but it don't mean anything. Understand?” “Yes, sir,” Saly murmured. “I reckon any fool could see that Pearl’s mighty near the apple of my eye,” Carson went on, as he dried his hands vigorously on the Sunday-fresh roller towel. “And if

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she took a notion that maybe some other girl from the orphanage would suit us better, why I don’t know as I could do anything else but take you back. And I’d hate that. You’re a nice, pretty little thing, real handy in the kitchen, but, yes sir, I’d have to tell the matron that you just didn’t suit. . . . Well, I got to get back to that yearlin’.” Somehow Sally managed to finish cooking the big Sunday dinner before the family returned from cnurch. Out of deference for the day she decided to change from her faded gingham to her white dress before serving dinner. Surely she had a right to look decent! Clem Carson couldn’t construe her humble “dressing up” as a bid for David's attention. In her little garret room she scrubbed her face and hands, pinned the heavy braid of soft back hair about her head, and then reached under her low cot bed for her small bundle of clothes, in which was rolled her only pair of fine-ribbed white lisle stockings. As she drew out the bundle she discovered immediately that other hands than her own had touched it; the stockings had been unrolled and then re-rolled clumsily, not at all in her own neat fashion. Then suddenly full comprehension came to her. The pieces of the puzzle settled miraculously into shape. It was here, in this bundle, that David had found the bar-pin. Somehow he had seen Pearl slip into the room that morning, had guessed that her secret visit boded no good for Sally; had spied on her, and then later had retrieved the bar-pin from the bundle in which Pearl had hidden it. If David had not seen—but she could not go on with the thought. Trembling so that her teeth chattered she dressed herself as de-

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cently as her orphanage wardrobe permitted, and then went downstairs to “dish up” the dinner she had prepared. Immediately after dinner David went across fields to call on his grandfather, a grouchy, sick old man who almost hated the boy because he would soon own the lands which he himself had loved so passionately. He did not return for supper, and at breakfast on Monday there was no time for more than a smile and a cheerful "Good morning,” which Sally, with Clem Carson’s eyes upon her, hardly dared return. Sally wondered if David had been warned, too, for as the days passed she seldom saw him alone for as much as a minute. Perhaps he was being careful for her sake, suspecting Carson’s antagonism, or perhaps, in spite of the shameful trick in which he had caught her, he really cared for Pearl. Evenings he sat for a short time in the living room or on the front porch, Pearl beside him, chattering animatedly; but he was always in his room studying by 10 o’clock, a blessed fact which made her own isolation in her little garret room more easy to bear. On Thursday morning at 10 o’clock David appeared at the kitchen door, an ax in his hands. "Will you turn the grindstone for me while I sharpen this ax blade, Sally?” he asked casually, but his eyes gave her a deep, significant look that made her heart flutter. Mrs. Carson, standing over her bubbling preserving kettles, grumbled an assent, and Sally flew out of the kitchen to join him.

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The grindstone, a huge, heavy stone wheel turned by a pedal arrangement, was set up near the first of the great red barns. While Sally poured water at intervals upon the stone, David held the blade against it, and under cover of the whirring, grating noise he talked to her in a low voice. “Everything all right, Sally?” “Fine!” she faltered. “I get awful tired, but there’s lots to eat —such good things to eat—and Pearl s given me some dresses that are nicer than any I ever had before, except they’re too big for me—” “Isn’t she fat?” David grinned at her, and she was reminded again how young he was, although he seemed to very grown-up to her. “She wouldn't be so fat If she worked a tenth as hard as you do.” “I don’t mind,” Sally protested, her eyes misting with tears at his thoughtfulness for her. “I’ve got to earn my board and keep. Besides, there’s such an awful lot to be done, with the preserving and the canning and the cooking and everything. Mrs. Carson works even harder than I do.” David's eyes flashed with indignation and a suspicion of contempt for the meek little girl opposite him. “You’re earning five times as much as your board and room and a few old clothes that Pearl doesn’t want are worth. It makes me so mad—” “Sal-lee! Ain’t that ax ground yet? Time to start dinner! I can't leave this picalilli I'm making,” Mrs. Carson shouted from the kitchen door. “Wait, Sally,” David commanded. “Wouldn’t you like to take a walk

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with me after supper tonight? I'll help you with the dishes. You never get out of the house, except to the garden. You haven’t even seen the fields yet. I’d like to show you around. The moon’s full tonight—” “Oh, I can’t!” Sally gasped with the pain of refusal. “Pearl—Mr. Carson—” “I want you to come,” David said steadily, his eyes commanding her. “All right,” Sally promised recklessly, her cheeks pink with excitement, her eyes soft and velvety, like dark blue pansies. (To Be Continued) Braving the wrath of Carson, Sally goes to meet David. In the next chapter. Sleeping Sickness Kills By Vnilrri I'riXK WASHINGTON, Ind., Marcli 23. The first case of sleeping sickness ever known in this city today caused the death of William E. Dosch, 44. Dosch had been suffering intermittently from the disease almost eighteen months, doctors said. Hip, Hip, Hurray! SPRINGFIELD, 111., March 23. Paul Baker, 20, dislocated his hip and was being taken in a taxicab to a hospital when the taxi struck a deep rut, bounced Baker to the floor and threw the hip back in place.

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