Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 4 March 1938 — Page 26

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~ pistol before him, he could of no more suitable exit than to

sailors

CAST OF CHARACTERS POLLY CHELSEY, heroine; siranded in London when war breaks out. ‘ JERRY WHITFIELD, hero; the Yankee who sees her through. CABELL BANKS, privateer captain.

Yesterday: At sea, Jerry and Banks attack a British merchantman, their first chance at a prize of war. And at home, Polly bears a son for Jerry.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN HE Gray Gull, by means of the sweeps, was held poised like a restless bird in the darkness while the long boat was lowered away. In the boat were Jerry Whitfield and 12 volunteers, hastily chosen. He had said to the crew, “Those that go with me will get no more in prize money than those that stand by in the Gull. Let that be understood.” * Yet many had clamored to go. It was very heartening. These 12 who accompanied him were Americans, alk each with a crow to pick with England. Revenge, it seemed, could flick as keen a whip as greed or patriotism

According to plan, the Gray Gull again ran out to sea a distance and stood by. The long boat was rowed to the merchant ship’s stern. Now the great hulk loomed and towered above them. The oarsmen held

the boat pressed to the hull’s great |.

timbers while Jerry Whitfield stood on a thwart and grasped a piece of loose tackle that hung from the ship’s stern like a ribbon on an untidy woman’s bonnet. By means of this he hauled himself aloft, gaining foothold here and there by any means afforded. . . . His moccasined feet came silently over the taffrail, and now he stood on the quarter-deck behind the slouching helmsman. It was true, that thing they had observed from the Gull: the quarterdeck was deserted except for the man at the wheel, and he was none too keen. A rum bottle stood beside him on the deck. . .. 2 2 8 ERRY Whitfield seized and bound this man, gagging him against outcry. He felt no pride in his achievement, for the fellow had forfejted half his strength and wits to rum. Jerry doused the lantern and looked dewn onto the main deck. He counted a score of sailors prostrated from drink and possibly 10 that were still active. The watch was a late one. All others had evidently gone below to forecastle quarters. No officer was visible, either. Armed with this knowledge he went astern and signaled his men to come aboard. This they did, each man drawing another after him like stealthy Indians taking a stockade. As the last man left the long boat it bobbed away in the darkness, the symbol and the reality of a retreat now beyond reach. Jerry, seeing it go, uttered a smothered exclamation of concern. And yet, what matter? They must take this ship or fail. . . . Delay would be deadly. Jerry put one of his men at the wheel. With the others he stood for a moment at the turn of the quarter-deck, while they picked their opponents on the main deck. The events that followed were as swift as vengeance and as brutal as warfare. The 12 Americans rushed upon the English sailors, overpowered them and herded them into forecastle quarters like so manysacks of meal, throwing them, shoving them, pitching them with a sort of gleeful exhilaration. This accomplished, they closed the hatches and secured them with the locks that they found there. The locks were stout, as English locks were always stout against the chance of mutiny at sea.

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O shot had been fired, no call piped. There had been only the subdued, repressed noise of men in bodily combat, scuffling, thudding, falling. Jerry ran up to the quarter-deck and stood at the opening of the companionway. He had not long to wait, and it was no hero’s work that followed. Several of his men had joined him; as the officers emerged they were overpowered and herded down the ladder they had just ascended. There were but four of them, and the captain was their spokesman. “Who are you?” he shouted at Jerry. ; “First mate of a privateer, sir. American.” ' “Pirates!” “I disagree, sir. We carry a let} ter of marque from President Madison. This is an old custom in warfare. England helped make the rules. A good game if you know how to play it. We're learning.” They were divesting the infuriated officers of their weapons. “We bid you good night, sirs,” Jerry said. “My men and I bid you good night.” He spoke without malice or triumph, but with satisfaction. “This is preposterous,” said the lieutenant who was second in command. “It’s beyond reason. We're Just off the coast of England. We're part of a convoy. We've two gun brigs to guard us.” The captain’s gloomy face brightened. “You're quite right Mr. Carter. You're quite right. It couldn’t happen. Qur men won’t allow it. Some of the convoy ships will discover this outrage—" ~ “Americans have devilish good luck,” spoke up the officer who wore the insignia of a third lieutenant. ay not be surprised if they pull it oO. Sid y » = ® 3 HZ Cabell Banks been there : he would have made some] Jerry had a sudden that the occasion warranted it, that a small but vital bit of history was being” enacted here without benefit of repartee or quip from the one who had accomplished it. But he was an inarticulate man, and when he had sent his sailors out wnd had started to back out himself, his think repeat earnestly, “My men and. I bid you good sirs.” His were used. Especially

‘one young giant of Irish

E ancestry ‘who guffawed aloud in spite of

pages of the log were devoted to a

listing of Chinese porcelain vases at unbelievable appraisement. “It’s enough to knock yer eye out!” said the Irish giant, reading over Jerry’s shoulder. : : Though all this had taken only a half hour of time, Jerry hastily put aside the long book and gave orders for running the May Queen out to sea. His reaction now was an urgency for flight, and his tenseness all but tortured him. This rich ship was only half theirs until they had plucked her from the convoy and hidden her in the vast darkness to larboard. . . .

2 8 =

N hour later they came upon the Gray Gull and spoke to her. On the Gull’s deck her 60 seamen crowded the forecastle head to hear. . . . “Captain Banks!” Jerry sang out. “Our compliments, sir! Jerry Whitfield commanding the prize brig May Queen 90 days out of Canton, formerly bound for Bristol!”

trolling his voice. “Well, you fool!”

he shouted, “you’ve done it! Any dead or wounded?” : “None. Will you come abroad?” “Aye, aye, sir! At once!” .answered Cabell, remembering to be nautical. : An interval passed. A boat was

Another interval, and Cabell Banks came over the side of ‘the May Queen, followed by a dozen men. “I've brought you some hands, Capt. Whitfield. They're willing. You'll need them to handle your prisoners. If you need more, ask for them.” He spoke gruffly, for the occasion was charged with em tion. ’ Jerry grasped the long thin Hand of the elegant young man from - ton. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for all of it.” “Nonsense!” said Cabell. “You owe me nothing.” He was a small man in stature, but spiritually he was measuring with the giants and

stint in the success of a friend. To Be .Continued)

Cabell Banks had trouble con-|

ts, mes and characters in Al ‘wholly fictitious.)

Daily Short Story

* PERENNIAL—By Cyril Plunket

FTER the funeral, I drove Margot home in my car. “Poor dad,” she sighed. “But you've been grand, Pete.” “About the will,” I said. “I'm the administrator.” “But you're so young!™ “Twenty-three—young!” I snorted. “The old gent had confidence in me, Margot. Anyway, the estate, valued at six millions, is practically all yours, so I've been wondering—" “Please don’t tell me what to do, Pete.” Her eyes were very, very misty, and very, very wide. “I'm going to Europe. A month, two months. To forget.” I didn’t like the idea. I didn't like the speculative “Now I can live as I've always wanted to” gleam in her gray eyes. She'd had one unfortunate marriage, at 17— an elopement—and the old man had ruled her with an iron hand thereafter. I made up my mind that I'd do the same, once she got back. “You'll be careful, Margot?”

“Darling,” she smiled wanly, “of course I'll be careful!” . She went to Europe, a new sprig of fern, a little green, a little shy, bewildered. She returned three months later languorous and aware. A new Margot. I told her at the boat she was looking fine. I told her I could see that she had found a new interest in life. “Indeed I have!” And she called Ginny Reese over. “Such a sad boy, Pete,” she confided later. “He needs me.” “You or the six million?” I grunted. Thirty, and he looked fifty; a drink-an-hour man, with plenty of overtime. “So you're going to

surprised. darling, shouldn't I?” _ Later I went over to Ginny's hotel. “You're a bloody no-account,” I said, “and there’s a bloody boat to

Mind Your Manners

Test your knowledge of- correct social usage by answering the following questions, then checking against the authoritative answers below: 1. How should club sandwiches be eaten? 2. Should small children be allowed to eat with the guests when their parents are giving & dinner party? : 3. Should one visiting a patient who is convalescing stay away from personal talk snd arguments? ‘ 4. May a woman wear gloves to a lunch table? 5. Is it a good idea for a girl to talk and giggle while she is dancing?

. What would you do if— You live very simply on a small income and you are having dinner guests who have a nungpber of servants and do things on a much more elaborate scale— A. ih to Jats So ends’ way o oing things? Keep to your own simplicity and - don’t apologize for it? C. Tell them that you are sorry you can't have dine ner served as beautifully as it is done in their house? ii :

s. 8 8 Answers

1. Cut with knife and ehten with fork.

“But | 4,

bloody Europe in three bloody hours.

It’s that or a bloody nose. Your.

choice old chappie.” “So you're’ after the six million, too,” he sneered. He got the boat and. the nose, and Margot was in tears for days. She

“So You're After the Six Million, Too.”

seemed to think it was all my fault.

—another misfit. In fact, she seemed to have the not-so-strange faculty of gathering unto herself men who “needed” help. And finally she met Jerry Austin—a week after Glenda Stewart, the actress, had thrown him over. Jerry, young, wistful, usually drunk, had written a successful play the year. before but

her she was an angel. 2 8 8

“Y)LEASE, Margot, don’t lose your head again,” I pleaded. Margot smiled. Her eyes were like stars. . I had to go to Chicago on business. The pater lived in Chicago and of course I talked things over with him. . “My advice, son,” he told me gently, “is to: take a vacation—in China. We both know Margot ‘is ever perplexing.” “That’s not advice; that’s insan ity! She needs me.” “Then why fool around Chicago?” he replied reasonably. I took a plane back East, determined to make her realize my devotion, and ‘had barely got back when she phoned. ” ;

begged. “It’s important.” We went to lunch. : “It’s about Jerry,” she said after

awhile. She was flushed and nervous. “He—he’s asked me to marry him.”

“Do you love him?” = “Pete, you ‘don’t understand. Jerry —oh, I don't know how to say it— he’s lost without me!” “Listen, we’ll go home -and talk this over.” “But what can talking do?” : “We'll ‘see about that,” I said

grimly. We got into a cab. We started up-

wn, “Pete,” she said, then, suddenly, “let’s stop some place.” “Okay.” I rapped on the glass. “The Avalon.” . We went to the Avalon and I-or-dered two double Manhattans. “Oh,” Margot said finally, “if I only knew how Jerry feels.” | “The Stewart girl?” . She nodded miserably, and I or-. dered another grace of drinks. “Beneath the surface this Jerry might still be nuts about Glenda Stewart——" “Do you really think he is?” she asked naively. “I'm going to find out,” I snapped. “You go on home. I'll see you tonight and we'll settle this thing once and for all.” And meantime, I added to myself, Austin is going places—the way Ginny Reese did. 3 8 88 RAN all over town. Either the bartender hadn't seen Jerry, or

he had just left. I found him in Harlem, soused. You couldn't hit a

dsunken man, but you could put him on a boat for South America. I phoned ‘Margot from the pier. “She left with the Major a half hour ago,” her maid said. “The Major?” I had never heard o Bim, Cunningham “Maj. . They expect to be gone two weeks.” : I gasped. “Who is the Major? And where did they go?” : It seemed the Major was oldish, retired, and rather nice. And they weré motoring to Harrison—to be married. : So Jerry Austin had been a drunken little herring. The pater had been right. China—but Margot would .go- along with 1ne. Into the interior. where there weren't any sad, wistful white men. I was driving like the. devil himself, and presently the sign Harrison flashed past. I found the town clerk’s office . .. too late. iy Margot was radiant, if apologetic. “I didn’t dare tell you, Pete. You've

the Major!” she giggled, turned to her new husband, her second, hus-

2. No. id J] 3: Yes, 80 as not to tire the ? band: “This is Pete, my son. polient. “and Gi _ THE END . an e them off . ‘ ; there, ; A ay en thi alasiars in 5. No. =F 4 Se ———————————— —— ena || COMMO

yl, radi ya CEA at i

lowered away from the Gray Gull. |

the gods; he was rejoicing without | -

But in three weeks she had another}

seemed unable to repeat. Jérry told | .

“Take me to lunch, Pete,’ she |

been so determined about me. Meet

A BOWL OF

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