Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 October 1936 — Page 28

BEGIN RERE TODAY Kate and Careline Meod live on a ran-down Hine Grass farm with their grandfather, Major Sam Meed, and two old Negro servanis. Althy and Zeke. Kate is engaged te handsome Morgan Prentiss, whe neglects her for Eve Elwell, beantifel and wealthy. In Lexington, a rich and bitter young mountaineer, Jeff Howard. instructs his lawyer te foreclose a merigage on the Meed farm and announces his intention of settling there as soon as he ean obtain possession. When the meorigage is foreclosed, the Meeds decide to move to a Aflapidated tenant house which they own. On the day of the move Jeff Howard comes to Meed Meadows and encounters Kate, packing dishes. In her resentment she treats him rudely. His pride Is hurt and he responds by inseolently boasting of his meney. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

CHAPTER EIGHT N Monday morning Zeke and a man hired for the occasion began to load the Meed belongings on the two-horse farm wagon. It was surprising how much they had in spite of the fact that the

ing left behind. There had been left to them the dilapidated furnishings of one bedroom—the room over the kitchen—and all their cooking equipment. Added to this were innumerable pieces from the attic, once discarded but still usable. With these they planned to furnish the stark little house that awaited them. Kate and Caroline made a wager. Kate said, “I'll bet you cry before you leave here!” Caroline, who had more starch in her make-up than she appeared to have, answered defiantly, “I'll bet I don’t! J'll bet you 50 cents I don't.” She took the silver piece from her pocketbook and put it in a cigaret box. “If 1 cry before the day's over, it's yours, smarty!” They avoided all roads that led to sentiment. They left the big grand piano open, knowing that to lower its lid would be like closing a coffin for the last time upon a beloved body. They refrained from making a last tour of the rooms and the grounds. They did not go about touching beloved walls, caressing beloved furniture. They knew what they could bear and what they could not bear.

» » » HEY had begun to work like mad at sun-up. During breakfast, the final meal in the beautiful old dining room, they kept up a running fire of conversation with their grandfather about the move. Kate suggested: “Althy can drive the spring-wagon, Gran'dad. She can follow Zeke. You and Caroline can take the sedan filled with some of the smaller stuff. I'll follow in your coupe with whatever's leit over.” The old gentleman agreed. He agreed to everything they proposed, ‘ which distressed them a little. It was as if all his former peppery self-assertion had melted. At mid-morning he diverted them by dropping a stepladder on his foot and injuring his gouty toe. He had been taking down the pictures in the front and back parlors and, in moving the ladder after his last triumphal descent, he had dropped it with a crash. Kate went running when she heard the clatter and the gentile stream of profanity which followed. “Gran'dad, are you much hurt?” she called. : “Not. hurt at all!” the Major snapped, but an escaping groan belied his words. Caroline and Althy ran toe him, too, and they immediately prescribed a hot footbath. He submitted with an exasperated sigh. Se ” ”n » E sat on the elegant old Empire divan in the front parlor with his foot in a basin of steaming: water. It was a little ludicrous. Kate and Caroline giggled as soon as they were out of earshot, grateful for the touch of comedy. They kept him there for an hour or more, giving him for entertainment the daily newspaper that Zeke fetched from the mail- - box. When the last box and barrel and lamp-shade had been carried ‘ out and when the house stood neatly swept, strangely echoing, they began to lock the doors and windows. It was Kate who closed and bolted the great front door from within. She gritted her teeth when she did it, for ‘it was a symbolic act. She told herself, “I'm the strongest of them all. I'm the toughest, Let me be the one—" : ; She banged it shut and shot the bolt, not glancing at the gracious - fan-light above, not looking at the curving, gleaming bannister of the stairway as she ran from the hall. - = = HEY left by way of the side hall. Major Meed locked this door from without with its big brass key. He put the key on a ring with several others and handed the ring to Zeke. “Take this to Mr. Howard out

at the barn” he told him. He spoke gently and -calmly. Kate marveled. at his self-control. Or

was «it resignation? If so, she did not e it. Her eyes were hard and bitter as they rested on the big gray roadster parked in the lane. Was the man indifferently attending to business in the barn, she wondered, or was he concealed somewhere, watching their de- © parture? Both possibilities infuriated her. Caroline and her grandfather got into the family sedan and the ' insisted upon driving, in spite of his injured foot. When they protested he exclaimed, “I'll leave under my own steam!” And hey let him, pleased at his show

real furniture of the house was be- |

‘twas shaking out pale blond hair

and rich in doors. In one corner od a dingy filigreed stove, its flue near the ceiling. Caroline remarked timidly, “I think it must be the hall, Gran'dad—" But they investigated and found the old man to be right. Aside from this room, there w only a dining room and a kitchen downstairs, witk: a lean-to room beyond, which would serve Zeke and Althy as sleeping quarters. Upstairs there were two rooms and a storage space. The stairway was concealed behind « door opening out of the living roont, as if the queer little second story had sinister secrets to be guarded from the regions below. y They went outdoors and discovered the fowls already at home within the wire netting of the chicken yard, where Zeke had put them that morning. “Silly things!” Kate hissed at Caroline as they watched them pecking. “They don't care where they live. That's the advantage of having no sense.” » = F DISTURBANCE was. heard and Caroline exclaimed ‘with a giggle, “Look at our cavalcade arriving!” The two wagons presented a grotesque appearance, Especially, the smaller one, driven by Althy,’ for al its rear end sat a small and intent colored boy—Althy’s grandson, Butlierford—leading the girls’ two riding horses -by halters. Shep, the farm dog, brought up the rear. “Well, we're here!” Kate called out. “Critters and all!” There was a sound of relief in her voice, halfgay. This thing which she had heen dreading with terror—the uprooting—was over. It took them all afternoon to get the furniture in place. Kate, from time to time, would leave the confusion of the house and go to the barn lot to see if the horses were finding life endurable there. Caroline’s little mare, Queen, was getting old. Though her black coat was still sleek and her small feet still trustworthy, she had passed the time of high tension and jittery nerves, She was accepting this comedown in life as calmly as old Dobbin and the two work horses would accept it. “But you're different, Brown Boy, you devil!” Kate told her own riding horse. He was tearing about the lot disgracefully, kicking up turf, whinnying and making a display of his new-born homesickness. “You're smart enough to know

bilatk pipe mounting crazily to a him.

SOWARD evening, while - the girls were attempting to mend a broken chair in the living room, a florist truck from town stopped before the house. It driver spied Rutherford, peeping around a cor-. ner, “Boy,” he called, “is this whére Major Sam Meed's family moved to?” : : Sa At the boy's affirmation be got out, opened the rear of the fruck and took out three of .the most enormous: boxes imaginable, “Ain't, nobody died!” the little darkey told him. ; the driver, and he came up on the | porch with his long boxes and | pounded, on the door. : Kate answered. The delivery was for her. The man departed with grave respect and left her holding the enormous boxes dismayed. “Open them,” Caroline suggested. They did. Each box held a dozen perfect - American Beauty roses with enormously long stems. In one box there was a sealed envelope. - Kate took it to the porch to open it, unwilling to share the thrill of. the moment even wiih Caroline. ; : » » »

ATE darling,” her eyes read, : “You are moving today and these flowers are to help brighten the rooms of the new house. Their color is gay and courageous. Like you. I kiss your hand, my dear, Morgan.” : When Kate weit ifdoors again her bronze eyes were shining, her cheeks flaming like the roses. She seemed to Caroline to be in a sort of trance. ... There were no vases tall enough to hold the flowers, so they had to use a 10-gallon. milkcan. Caroline thought, ruffling her ashblond hair with tired and dirty fingers, “Of all the things we don’t need today it's three dozen American Beauty roses!” ,. . There flashed | into her mind the basket of heavenly food Morgan might have sent in place of them—a cake, potted meats, olives, home-made rolls from the Exchange, some of those attractive assortments of cheese. She was very hungry, for, like the others, she had had no lunch . The kitchen stove was not up yet. Supper was still only a mirage. . . . But Kate fed her soul on the flowers and did not know that she was hungry.

what it's all about. Home's gone. There's just this now.” He had

(To Be Continued)

OHN BURCHARD, movie and dramatis critic, stood in the theater lobby, glaring out into a night that was distinguishing stself with the worst storm in weeks. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and the rain came down in torrents. Rain—he hated it. He was debating whether to take a taxi to the office when the smiling theater manager approached him and offered him the use of his own small den in which to knock out a review of the show. A sardonic smile twisted John's mouth as he seated himself at the manager's typewriter and began clicking words ‘on ‘to paper, The picture had been all right—he could reward the manager for his accommodations by praising it. But the stage show had been hopeless, particularly that pale girl with the scarlet mouth who had thought she could sing. : “Perhaps ladies must live,” type John, enjoying himself, “but must they sing?” He tapped out two more cruel sentences about the girl—brief, but murderous.

» 8 '» T was still raining when he passed through the lobby again.

Groups of people were still lingering there. waiting for the rain to stop. Somebody jostled him." He turned to glare, then brightened as he saw the cheery face of a cub reporter. “Sam! office?” . “Sure. Take something in for you? Good show, wasn't it?” John was tugging the folded sheets of copy paper out of his

Say, are you going to the

pocket. “Swell. Especially the Singing Lady. Wasn't she a knockout, with

her songs about love and heart throbs!” Sam's young face beamed. “That's what I thought. Say, she was good, wasn't she? I'll take the review for you. Take it straight to the composing room?” John nodded, absently. He was calculating the chances of a dash to the nearest restaurant. Down the alley and in the back way, he could get there without getting soaked, and a- cup of steaming coffee could make even a rainy night endurable. He plunged.

® 8 ”

E felt better when he had relaxed into a chair in the brightly lighted restaurant. The coffee was hot and penetrated his chilled interior with a peaceful glow. He lighted a cigaret and leaned back in comfort. Then his eyes narrowed. That face at the next table—a pale face with a wide red mouth. He had seen the girl before, and recently. Of course! ‘The singer! “Marie Touraine—Songs of Love.” She had taken off her hat and that hung in twisted damp strands about her pointed face. And she was talking in a tense voice to the girl opposite her. ‘ : “It’s the rain,” she said, deject-

STORMY WEATHER

By Daphne Alloway McVicker Daily Short Story

“what I'll do!

gray eyes with shadowy lashes. The girl was speaking again. “And. of course, tonight. was such a test. "When Bob héard that this | manager was booking an occasional singer, he fairly bullied him into taking a chance on me. If only I get good reviews. . . . But it had to rain—and I was dreadful!” The other girl whispered something consoling, but the gray eyes

were desperate, staring into space. z = ” ; te ELL—maybe it wasn't as bad

as 1 thought. I'll know by the reviews in the morning. And if theyre bad—oh, I don’t know I've had so many disappointments. It will be the end.” Her eyes were bleak. “No, I won't listen, Mary. There's nothing left for me if I don't make good now. I simply won't stick!”. A coffee cup crashed to the ficor, and both girls turned in amazement. The tall, stern young man who had been sitting at the next table was dashing wildly to the door. - There was still time, perhaps, to | get back that copy, to tear up that | fatuous, idiotic~ review, to write | praise of the girl's singing that | would fairly lift itself from the dull type. He dashed across the street, and a taxi, suddenly rounding the corner, screamed wildly in a chorus of brakes and horn. He felt himself hurled to the pavement. Then, blackness. . . . » » » OHN opened his heavy eyelids J and found himself staring at the bare whiteness of a hospital room. He jerked his head and felt a sharp ain. i p A nurse was smiling down at him. “Youre all right, Mr. Burchard. But you were out a long time, with concussion.” : He glared about the room. Day- | light. He had been here all night. Swiftly, memory returned to haunt him. - Then, like an echo of his thoughts, he heard her name. The nurse was saying it to another nurse. “Miss Marie Touraine, the singer at the Globe this week. She was such a pretty girl—"

» = » HEN it had happened! She had seen his review—and been brought here to the hospital! He lurched up. The room whirled. Then he was looking into the face of Sam Blake, the cub reporter, who suddenly was standing over him. “Sam! The view—" - Sam beamed. “Oh, yes. I eame over to tell ; about that. Why— you see, the! wind tore it right out of my hand—and a car ran over it, and in that rain and mud, there jusg wasn't anything left. But I remember how swell you thought that Miss Touraine was, so I wrote her up big.” THE END

ight. 1936. by United Feature (Copyrigh Syndicate, Inc.)

review—my re-

TA { The characters in this stery are fictitious.

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W.. Washington, D. C. Legal and medical : : ~=B o 1336 by © etre Syadleats dvice can mot be gives, can extended “a : WE Seu " gmt : ml f resenreh be a I couldn’t afford to have my husband followed, so I started a rumor that he was in : br. 3 "La 3 i - wld bo J” : So i . % Q—Which Southern state led in ; re the market for insurance.” ~~ banking at the time the Civil War | w TE Ta ee — . i : started? expired, he was convicted on a State | complete he was deported to.Italy,| Q—How do deep sea fish differ A—Louisiana, probably on account | charge and was given a seven to Where he mow lives. ~~ [from other fishes? i nine-year - sentence in Mass : ; lection was| A—Deep sea fish are any of the