Walkerton Independent, Volume 62, Number 10, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 30 July 1936 — Page 7

Synthetic Gentleman By Channing Pollock Coxrrrlrbt Channing Pollock WNU Service.

SYNOPSIS The Duke, * pleasant, likable youth of twenty-three, jobless and broke, enters an unoccupied summer home in Southampton, seeking: shelter from a terrific rain storm. He makes himself at home. Six years ago his father had died in China, leaving the lad, Barry Gilbert, to fight his way back to the States. He did not recollect ever having had a mother. Dozing at the fireside, he is startled by the arrival of a butler, Willetts; a chauffeur, Evans; a cook and a maid. He learns that the son of the owner of the house. Jack Ridder, whom the servants had never seen, is expected. He decides to bluff it out. His supposed parents have left for Germany. Next morning he is given a letter for his “mother." He opens it and finds a message from the real Jack, saying he could not come, and returning a hundred-dollar bill. The boy’s father had pensioned him Into obscurity. Barry pockets the money. Intending to return it later. He orders Evans to take him to Montauk, intending to disappear there. On the way he assists Judge Hambidge and his daughter, Patricia, whose car had broken down. Believing he Is Jack Ridder, she Invites him to dinner the following Thursday. Barry returns to Southampton, deciding to stay a bit longer. Mr. Ridder, Sr., through his newspaper, the Globe, accuses Judge Hambidge of taking orders from Tammany Hall In a condemnation proceeding. CHAPTER ll—Continued On Wednesday—eighteen days after bls advent at Southampton—the Duke got a letter from Mrs. Ridder. •’My Own Dear Boy: I write this as we are leaving Cherbourg, and shall try to post it at Southampton. How I wish it were our Southampton, and that I were about to see you. Your radio message arrived duly. I understood, of course, and ft made me happier than I have been in years. Don’t laugh, but I have slept with it under my pillow. Think how long ft has been since I have had any word from you, save for that hurried, worried talk at the hotel. I wanted to write you at once, but It has been hard to get a minute away from your father. He really is very ill, and a little irritable, and the doctor says any shock might prove serious. Gs course, I want to tell him about you, but perhaps it’s as well that I can’t Just yet. We shall be away until the end of July, at least, and perhaps longer. By that time, I shall have had such good news of you as will enable me to win him over. He does care for you, dear. As much as I do. Perhaps more, and that is why his pride has been hurt, and he has seemed so hard. 1 do hope you have given up drinking. That has been your real enemy. And I do hope you will find work. Nothing else will go so far in persuading your father. And we must persuade him soon. He must change his will. It isn’t the money I'm thinking of so much as its bitterness. I could bear your being 'cut oft,’ but I have begged him for years to take out the paragraph forbidding me to help you. and giving his reasons why. I shall never forget the night he read me that. He has taken care of the household expenses at Southampton. (Did I tell you that we were going to open the place, anyway? We've had Willetts ever since we’ve had the house, and our agreement is that his winter lay-off isn’t to last over six months.) Your father gave him his check when he came to the hotel the morning we sailed, and will send him one every month, to pay servants, etc. I am enclosing another hundred dollars for you. Cash, because my bank account’s rather low now. That's all, except that 1 am counting the days to your letter at Nauheim. It's perfectly safe to write me there, as I shall arrange with the porter. I want that letter, dear. You can never know how much I’ve wanted it, and how long, and how I pray that nothing may happen now. One false step on your part—one foolish exploit like that at college — if he knew, would end everything forever. And he would know. 11l as he is, he still has his newspaper sent him, and he still reads every word. If I seem over-anxious, you will understand. You are almost all I have. Mother. P, S. Don't fall to write." For the first time since he had inserted his knife blade under the dry putty of that window, the Duke felt ashamed of himself. Deeply and thoroughly ashamed. "What can I do?” he said. "I can’t write. And what would be the use? One letter, and then silence. Some day, she’s sure to find out that her boy never came near Southampton. ... I wish to God I could find that boy 1”

Thursday's evening paper was full of Judge Hambidge. “Hambidge Decision Due,” the headline read. “As Civic Association Links Holding Corporation with Boss Kelly.” The link didn’t seem very strong. Kelly, who evidently was some potatoes in Tammany hall, had once employed one of the “alleged dummy directors” of the corporation that owned the property to be used in widening Jefferson street. “In the face of this sensational disclosure.” the paper asked editorially, “will Supreme Court Judge Hambidge have the courage to give these men the fabulous sums they ask for their rookeries? Judge Hambidge insists that he has never even met Mike Kelly. ‘I have never spoken a word to him in my life? Judge Harabidge’s decision is long over - due. When it is handed down, the city’s voters will know whether Boss Kelly has ever spoken to Judge Hambidge.” After that, Barry wasn't surprised to find the Judge absent from the next night's dinner party at his hou^» Evidently, the pack was in full cry. Friday's evening paper had a headline that ran clear across the street. Still unfolded, Barry had left the pa; et lying on the library table, with B -s Kelly’s name filling most of its vS’ble quarter-page. Naturally, Patricia was d:«t ;rt < I •‘Father spoke at a banquet i st nig! • at the Astor,” she ex: nod. “A- ; he wouldn’t let me stay in with bh . •I ll sleep in the hor*?. nvl • ’ - . train out In the morn? . i • < j. a hour ago, he phoned that bed been unavoidably det.-rm- * ” “I fancy he didn’t feel quite up to the tri; ['• r . tricia's apo’ ry. “i > s have taken It -it < afterward, he s -v a a taxi-cab ” “Oh—Peterl” I ■

"Yes. The Judge called me, early this morning, about his decision in this condemnation proceeding. He'd just sent it to the county clerk’s office. And his voice sounded rather shaky. He'd gone for a walk after the dinner was over, he said, and the taxi dashed out of a side street, Jus'; as the woman stepped off the curb. The driver jammed on his brakes, and skidded right up onto the sidewalk. The usual hit-and-run business.” "What did the Judge talk about at the dinner?” Barry asked, chiefly to change the subject. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen a paper today.” Winslow seemed preoccupied, Barry thought, but a mighty fine fellow. A famous criminal lawyer, but so simple and kindly. He was a big chap, loosely put together, and his graying hair was loosely brushed back from a face that was square In every sense. The two men clicked at once. Barry loved Peter’s manner to his wife—a soft, round, pink little woman, with worried eyes. Peter was always jollying her — gently, whimsically, protectively. "My yes-man,” he said of her. "Anything 1 do is right.” "That's only my move to make the decision unanimous,” smiled Mrs. Winslow. She had wit, in her own quiet way. "I never met your father,” the attorney remarked to Barry, in the drawing room, after dinner. “You work on bis newspaper, 1 suppose.” "No.” “Don’t you want to do anything?” he asked. “Very much.” “What?” "Anything.” “That won’t get you far. Can you write?” “Like the lady who was asked If she could play the piano, I don’t know —I never tried.” “You should be able to write—with your father’s gift of trenchant expression. You’ve got it, too, in conversation. My brother owns a big advertising agency. I’d like to have you meet him.” "I'd like to,” said the Duke. “I do want to work.” He hesitated. “I've been in town almost every day this week, looking for a job.” He caught Patricia's surprised glance. “Come in and see me,” Winslow suggested.. Just his damned luck! Here was a job—a career, probably—for the asking, and he couldn't take it. Not as Z/Sta'” rv T /A M 1/f f wWI IWA Wl “There’s a Lady to See You, Sir.” John Clarke Ridder, Jr. But Patricia’s eyes were still on him, so “I’ll be in Monday,” he said. When he had made his adieux to the Winslows, Patricia accompanied him to the door. » "I owe you an apology,” she de-

dared. “You’re not just a rich man's son. You’re something quite different. And I’m —glad!” “Some girl!” When he reached home, Willetts was waiting in the hall. “There’s a lady to see you, sir.” “At midnight?” "She got here around eight o’clock. And she wouldn’t go. She's upstairs, in the library.” “What kind of a lady?” "Sort of glittery, If you ask me,” the butler replied. “Did she come in a car?” “One of the station taxis, sir.” “How’s she going to get back? Never mind! I can rouse Evans, if we need him. You go to bed.” Very much on guard, he climbed the stairs to the upper rooms. Willetts was right; her eyes were "glittery.” And hard. A woman who knew her way around, Barry would have said. And yet there was something tender about her, too. She had hair, nondescript in color, escaped in

“Os course.” i She kept on staring. I “Somebody’s crazy,” she said. It had come, then. It was bound ■ to come. Was Willetts listening in the hall? What would Patricia say? • “Somebody's crazy,” the girl repeated, “and I don't think it’s me. Or somebody's a liar, and I don’t think it’s him!” And, suddenly, she began to laugh. “No,” she shrilled; “it’s you! It’s written all over your face! And It’s । funny, because you’ve walked into a pretty mess.” “I—?” “If you’re John Clarke Ridder, Jr., I’m your wife.” “My wife?” She stopped laughing, as suddenly as she had begun. "That's it,” she said, and her voice was harder than ever. “I’m your wife, and you’re under arrest for killing a guy!” “Under arrest?” Barry echoed. “What are you talking about?” For answer, the girl reached across to the library table, and handed him ! > the newspaper she had been reading when he came into the room. "That's what John Clarke Ridder did —last night,” she said. "Killed a guy. That guy. That damned skunk. I Mike Kelly. Boss Kelly, of Tammany ; Hall I” — CHAPTER 111 After all, she wasn’t such a “gilt- j , tery” lady. For, as Barry glanced at the news- : paper headlines unfolded before him, she crumpled suddenly, and dropped into the big chair. ! “Steady!” the Duke admonished her. j "Wait a minute; I’ll get you a drink.” , f He poured the girl a stiff hooker of j , brandy, and she drank about a third j of It. “Knew her way around,” un- : ( doubtedly, he thought, and yet there was something helpless and appealing j about her. “Finish it.” , “Thanks; I'm all right now.” To give her a chance to pull herself ( together, the Duke wont back to those , headlines. “Boss Kelly Murdered.” ( they read. "Body Found by Servants. Skull Crushed. Midnight Caller Hunt- । ed by Police.” "Was your husband the midnight caller?” he asked. The girl nodded, wearily. “And lie's John Clarke Ridder, Jr.?’’ She nodded again. For some reason he never quite understood, the Duke had stopped wondering whether Willetts was listening outside. Instead lie was thinking of a letter that lay in the drawer of the library table; a letter from a hearthungry old woman, who had written to tills boy, from three thousand miles away, "1 am counting the days to your letter. You can never know how much I’ve wanted it. and how long, and how I pray that nothing may happen now.” Well, something had happened. Something that would end that old woman’s efforts to make It up with the boy's father; something that might well be the end of them both. “Why did your husband kill Boss Kelly?” “He didn't.” “You said—” "I said, ‘That's what John Clarke Ridder did.' Well, that's what they say he did. and it isn’t going to make much difference whether he did It or not.” “But you don’t think he did it.” “I know he didn’t. He had reason enough, and he's done a lot of crazy ■ things, hut Jack wouldn't hurt a fly.” “Why did you come out here?” "For 1. Ip.” “Well,” ‘he Duke said, “maybe I can help you. God knows. I'd like to. Anyway, let's see where we stand.” He crossed the room, and sat oppo- ' site her, on a little library chair. "Go on,” he urged. “What’s your name?” “What’s yours? Your real name?” “Barry Gilbert. I'm a bum. I took shelter In this house, one rainy night a couple of weeks ago, and everybody thought I was young Ridder, so I let ’em think so. That’s my story. What’s i yours?” She actually smiled. “You’ve got your nerve,” she oh- i served. "Well, that’s what we need now. My name's Peggy O’Day.” "Actorine?” "Sort of. I was a chorus girl In ‘Blossom Time’ when I met Jack In Florida. He was a bum, too. Living under a fake name. We still live under that. Jay Rogers. Everybody calls him ‘Jack.’ The old man paid him fifty dollars a week for not using his name. We’ve got a little hoy, now, | and he doesn't even know his name's I Ridder. He thinks he's Jay Rogers, ' Jr. The old man doesn't know what name we took, and he doesn’t care.” (TO BE CONTINUED) When March Wai First Month Until 1797 Venice began the year on March 1. March was “the first j month” to the early Christians. ! ferent places, and styles of reckoning i took their names from towns. In many ! Benedictine monasteries the year was reckoned from < hristmas as late as the I beginning of the Fourteenth century, ’ and this custom persisted even longer

IMPROVED UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL SUNDAY | chool Lesson By REV. HAROLD L LUNDQUIST, Dean of the Moody Bible Institute of Chica © Western Newspaper Union. Lesson for August 2 PHILIP’S MISSIONARY LABORS LESSON TEXT—Acts 8-5-40. GOLDEN TEXT—Therefore they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the word.—Acts 8:4, PRIMARY TOPlC—Philip Tells the Glad News. JUNIOR TOPlC—Philip Tells the Glad News. INTERMEDIATE AND SENIOR TOPIC —Pioneering for Jesus. YOUNG PEOPLE AND ADULT TOPIC— The Gospel Crosses the Frontier. Evangelism is the work of every follower of Christ, and primarily the work of the layman. This duty cannot be delegated to the church as an organized body or to its official servants. Philip was a layman, a deacon in the church by office, but an evangelist by the gift and calling of the Holy Spirit. His experience in leading the Ethiopian eunuch to Christ demonstrates that cne who is yielded to the Spirit— I. Will Find Opportunity for Soul Winning (v. 26). Most unexpected places will afford opportunities. Philip was in the midst of a great revival in Samaria when the angel of the Lord sent him toGGaz a desert place. Who would he meet here? Remember that the great world-evangelist, Dwight L. Moody, was converted in a humble shoe store by the earnest approach of a Sunday school teacher. 11. Will Respond Immediately to the Spirit’s Leading (vv. 29, 30). The Spirit said “go.” Philip "ran.” The fundamental of fundamentals in God’s children is obedience. The opportunity, the inquiring soul, the equipped personal worker, all were prepared bj’ God for just that moment. All would have been lost had Philip failed to obey. 111. Will Find That Men and Women Are Ready to Receive the Truth (vv. 28, 31-34). God prepares souls, and more are willing to be saved than we think. Whether i. was through his experience at Jerusalem, his spiritual hunger before he went up, or the reading of the Word, or all these together, the eunuch was ready. Neighbors, schoolmates, .radespeople, fellow workers—they may present God’s opportunity for us. IV. Will Find That God Honors Men by Using Them to Win Others. He could "save a man all alone on the top of the Alps.” but he doesn't ordinarily do it. Remember it was "the sword of the Lord and of Gideon” that wrought a victory. The eunuch needed an interpreter of the truth. Philip was God's man. V. Will Know God's Word (v. 35), We cannot interpret what we do not know. One who is not personally acquainted with the Living Word by regeneration, : nd the Written Word by diligent study, is not able to help others. Could you begin (as Philip did) at Isaiah 53:7, and lead a man to Christ? If not. should you not begin to study your Bible with such an end in view? VI. Will “Carry Through” to a Decision (vv. 36. 37). A salesman may be brilliant, cultured, and persuasive, but what counts is the signature on the dotted line at the bottom of an order. Philip pressed for and obtained a decision. VIL Will Follow-up His Convert (vv. 36, 37). Much so-called evangelism fails to go beyond a mere profession—a declaration of faith. The eunuch and Philip both knew that an inward faith declares itself in an outward act —and he was baptized. VHI. Will Recognize That the Message Is Important. Not the Messenger (v. 39). When the work was done the evangelist was carried away by the Spirit. God’s work goes on. His workman we set aside. As an advertising company has wellexpressed it. “The purpose of advertising is to impress the product upon the reader's mind, not the medium.” It is a fine testimony to the effectiveness of Philip's ministry that although he was gone his convert went “on his way rejoicing.” His faith did not rest on the evangelist nor any human fellowship—he knew God. Let us be sure to win souls to God and not simply to a personal allegiance to us or to a religious organization. Why not be a Philip? Any man or woman who knows the Lord Jesus Christ as personal Savior can be a winner of souls. It has well been said that all that Philip had was “a love for souls, a knowledge of the Word and a sensitiveness to the leading of the Lord. That is all we need. If every Christian were a Philip the world would be won for Christ in ten years.” Among the earliest utterances of Christ was the commission, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of Feeling of Sympathy which man should learn. It will be ther; if his emotions are but excited to roll back on his heart, and to be less he learns to feel for things in Count Your Blessings

A Comfortable Culotte

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Minister’s Son Invents Invisible Ear Drum The Invisible Ear Drum invented by A. O. Leonard, a son of the late • Rev. A. B. Leonard. D D for : . iA ■ years secretary of the I:. ■ lof I ..fI eign Missions of the Metuxiisi f. .jscopal Church, for his i.wn from extreme deafness and he id noises, has s<> greatly improved his hearing that he can join in any ordinary conversation, go to the theatre | and hear without difficulty. Inexpcn- ■ sive anil has proved a files- • to many people. Write for booklet to ! A. O. Leonard. Inc., Suite 202, 70 Fifth avenue, New York city. Advt. Sfrange Hobby An Australian, at Sydney, Australia, has a queer habit. He buys up barrow loads of fruit—then takes delight in selling out everything at a penny a dozen. This light-hearted philanthropist says that he has been wanting to do this sort of thing ever since he was a child. He has been the center of attraction. “I don’t know why I do it, except that I feel happy,” he says. “Sometimes I’m walking along and see a fruit-barrow, and before you can say ‘How’s your uncle?’ I've bought the lot.” High Dignity One of the sublimest things in the world is plain truth. l EIF VQ A \ i\ Vs \ Just sprinkle " •eman’s Ant Food along window sills, doon, any place where ants come I and go. Peterman’s kills them — red ants, black ants, others. Quick. Safe. Guaranteed effective 24 hours a day. Get Peterman's Ant Food now. 25c, 35c and 60c at your druggist’s.