THE Thursday, November 2, 1939 By ova O MARTHA CHAPTER I 1 For one of those minutes that are not reckoned as time, but rather as a curious vessel to hold experience, she had stood still on the station platform, rapt and breathless and unmindful of the inquisitive glances that rested on her taut figure. The desire had been acute to fling out her arms to the circle of the mountains that rose from the valley like a prodigiously wrought gold and purple bowl filled with the wine of sundown in May. She had stood, aware of the cool star on the southern crest, and of the silver shallop of the new moon with its veiled and mystical cargo. Then the words had shaped themselves in silence upon her lips, words she knew now had paused far back in her childhood, waiting for her return: "You beautiful! Oh, you beautiful!" Only a few moments before, she had checked her luggage without giving her name, and the slight narrowing of the old clerk's eyes had brought a twitch of amusement to her mouth. She remembered him well enough, and although it was nine years since he had seen her she had been but fourteen then it was evident that some recollection stirred behind the old man's eyes. Perhaps, after all, she might have told him she was Autumn Dean, so that he might be the first to know that the Laird's daughter had come home. He was one of the "relics of Barkerville," as her father used to call them affectionately, those old men who had become as legendary as that field of gold. It would have been fitting to tell him first, this old man who was the essence of everything to which she was returning, this fabulous, romantic northland of her girlhood. But it amused her to keep her secret a little longer, to be to herself alone the daughter of old Jarvis Dean, the Laird of the "Castle of the Norns." That phrase brought an almost unbearable ennui for what had been when she herself had so named her father's house. The murmur of the valley town, like the warm sound of a human heart within the cool heart of the hills, lay below her now as she made her way quickly up the steep dark street to the bouse she remembered in the mountain's cleft. A few new dwellings had appeared, the shade trees had grown, there was a denser thicket of shrubbery flanking the street, but the curious upward climb of the way was unmistakable. There, where the gravel road took a prankish turn as though seeking greater seclusion under the brow of the hill, old Hector Cardigan's cottage peered through, half suspiciously as she had remembered it, as though it had made its way from the inner secrecy of the mountain and were of half a mind to return there. Her heart gave a little leap of delight as she saw the " "monkey-puzzletree on the tiny front lawn, and the two somber, meticulously clipped yews on either walk. The side of the shell-lineItalian lamp ancient wrought-iro- n hung as of old in the narrow crypt of the porch, but instead of the wanly flickering oil wick, a dim electric bulb glowed steadily behind the parchment Old Hector bad had his house wired, then! , Her impulse was to go' bounding up the steep little steps two at a time, as she had been wont to do, but she reflected quickly that Hector, grown older and more than ever given to solitude, from her father's reports of him, might be startled at such an intrusion. Instead, she ran lightly up the flight to the carved, narrow, oak door, and clutched her handbag to still the excitement of her heart as she lifted the heavy brass knocker. She remembered that the knocker had been level with her eyes when she was a reedy kid of fourteen. That was Hector's step now, quick and military still in Its precision. She could remember that long polished panel of hardwood flood of the hall within, polished to mirror luster by Hector himself, as no servant could do it, had the old man ever been able to afford a servant. The door opened quickly, boldly. In its old manner of brusque inquiry. And there stood Hector, erect and fiery, fastidiously groomed as of old, sehis gray bair verely grayer now but combed at ever Ha stood with sculptured nicety. very little above her own height, so that it teemed to her that the was smiling on a level with his cyet. At the waited for hit recognition, curious thing wat happening. She had matched off her hat and stood with her head flung back, her bair shaken vividly about ber cheeks. Hector's cyet wert fastened upon her face with a look that grew from strange. Incredulous amazement to something verging upon pain. His hand reached uncertainly out toward her, at though he expected her to vanish before hit eyet, then hit fingers grasped the door knob until the knuckles gleamed white. Hit face had become drained of all color, and although the taw that hit hand leaned heavily on the door knob for support. Autumn laughed gayly, stepped over the threshold, and flung her arms about hit neck. "Hector, Hectorl Don't you know mi, von old goose?" she demanded, OSTENSO $ 1 i WNU SERVICE shaking his shoulders as she smiled up at him. "Forgive me, child," he said. "You you startled me. I hadn't expected but here, come inside. My manners are abominable!" They proceeded into the low, shadowed living room, Autumn pausing just within the door to let her eyes sweep over the place. She wanted to make sure that the character of this extraordinary room had not changed. No, except for an added piece or two, it was the same as when she had last seen it a haunting medley of the centuries, the oak walls dim and secret with their tapestries, the Louis XIV Gobelin, the fragile and priceless Renaissance Grotesque with its quaint assembly vanishing irretrievably into the weave, vanishing back into the dead hands of the weaver, and the bold Francois Spierinx of Delft with its heraldry challenging Time. "But when did you get back, Autumn?" Hector asked, his voice firm now, with its old courtly inflection. "I've just come. I walked right up here from the station." "But your father didn't tell me you were coming home." Autumn tossed her hat and purse on the low Spanish settle, ruffled ber d d MARTHA OSTENSO "There's nothing wrong, my dear. It's just the surprise, I suppose. It has knocked me quite silly. How are you going out?" Autumn patted one of his brown hands affectionately. "I'm going to ride one of your hunters," she told him. "It wouldn't look right for the daughter of Jarvis Dean to go home in an automobile, would it?" Hector smiled. "One of my hunters? I have only one left, my dear, but you are welcome. Are you going to ride in those clothes?" "No. I'll telephone for my luggage. I have a riding habit handy in a bag. You see, I had it all planned. Where is the telephone. Hector? Isn't that frightfully stupid! It's the only thing about the house I have forgotten." Hector pointed to a low Japanese gilt and black lacquer screen that stood below a Seventeenth century brass lantern clock with single hand. "Back there," he said. When she had arranged for the immediate transfer of her luggage to Hector Cardigan's house, she returned to the fireplace. Hector had laid another log on the fire, and the pitch was snapping spiritedly. He had also brought out a remarkably cut old English decanter with a ruby glass snake wound about the neck. Two fragile wine glasses stood on the tray beside it and the liquid within them glowed with fixed and inviolate coruscation. On a Meissen porcelain plate were tiny frosted cakes and shortbreads. "Oh, Hector! You sweet!" Autumn cried, kneeling before the wine to look at the light flaming through it "I take back all I said about my welcome." She seated herself upon a battered hassock and took the glass he offered her. She sipped the wine and reached for one of the tempting little cakes. "Chablis, isn't it?" she remarked. Hector smiled at her over his glass, and it seemed to her that he was more his old self again, the surprising and eternally enigmatic old self that she had known. Puck and Pan and Centaur, all in one, and sometimes Ariel and sometimes Caliban all the naive and grotesque and impish legendary beings she knew. "Your education is complete, I see," he laughed. Autumn laughed too, and ate another cake in one "Your education is complete, v ? I see." fingers through her bair, and came over and stood beside him, her feet spread boyishly apart, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked at Hector with grave amusement "He isn't expecting me," she said lightly. "I want to surprise Urn." Hector turned slowly away. yes," he said, thoughtfully. "It will be a surprise to him." "Besides, you old fraud, I wanted to surprise you. Think of it Hector, it's nine years since you taw me mouthful. "Oh, when I went over," she said, "they were teaching children to drink so that they would stop begging for another war." Her mood changed then and she frowned down at the last drop that lay in the crystal hollow of the glass. "Seriously, though, that's why I wanted to come home. Hector. I had to get away from the constant reliving of a nightmare that my generation missed." "I know I know," Hector remarked. "The only real thing In the pampered life of Aunt Flo was the loss of her son my cousin Frederick, last." "Nine years! It seems impossible. you know. I don't know whether Well we're getting older. I'm ap- there it such a word or not there proaching my dotage, child. But you ought to be but Aunt Flo simply you are eternal youth itself. You voluptuated in her loss. I couldn't have the heritage of your mother." live with it any longer." "It isn't the same back home Autumn's laugh pealed out "But not her beauty, Hec"Oh, I don't mean they are all tor!" "That was what startled me when like Aunt Flo," she hastened to add. I taw you at the door. You are ber "But there is something smothery about England now, with all those image." women stepping on He moved to the couch that faced hungry-eye- d the fireplace, aeated himself, and each other's toes. Do you know what clasped his hands between his knees. I mean?" Autumn turned and looked down "Yes," Hector admitted. "I think upon him, and a wave of swift pity I do. You wanted room to breathe for him swept over her, obliterating in. Well, you are right too. Only for a moment the bewilderment and your father isn't the tame man eidismay that were growing upon her ther. You will find him very diffiat the strangeness of hit reception. cult at times. He rarely comes to Time, the merciless Invader, wat see me any more and you know storming the fine citadel of that gal- how devoted I have been to him." lant old soldier, and already had "Father has always been difficult. come an intimation of the ruin that Hector. But I've always loved him, wat to be. Autumn went quickly nevertheless and he bat alwayt and seated herself beside him, tak- loved me." ing his brown hand in her own. "Certainly. He lovet the ground "Is this all the welcome you give you walk on. I think, perhaps, that me?" she asked. "You look at if was one of the reasons he didn't I bad brought you the plague. want you to come back." What's wrong. Hector?" "Listen, Hector," Autumn said, He looked at her thoughtfully, then shaking a finger at him, "I know father wanted me to stay In Eng got to bit feet "H-m-- deli-clousl- as" TIMES-NEW- NEPHI. UTAH S. land. He wanted me to marry and settle down over there. Why?" Hector coughed lightly and took another sip from his glass. "If Jarvis has any reason for not wanting you back here," he said finally, "he'll probably tell you what it is better than I could, my dear. Though, for that matter, I am inclined to agree with him in this, I think." "What do you mean by that. Hec- PAGE SEVEN Istar howT ddids k Way Back in Movies k War Cramps Hughes J Hilts I Thomas in Screen Debut II Uy Virginia Vol tor?" "I mean you should not have THE current crop of come home," Hector said abruptly. IF young Americans doesn't Autumn got impatiently to her feet and stood before him, her hands on know all about American hisher hips. "Now, see here. Hector," tory it won't be the fault of she exclaimed, "are you going to be the movies. Producers are as unreasonable as father has been CUT STRAIGHTANolci about my coming back where I be- fairly falling over each other "W1DE.TURN AND PRESS EDGES; in to the a scramble stake THEN STITCH A4 SHOWN long? He has been perfectly ridiculous about it all this time. I've been claim to a slice of it; hardly fed up with Europe for two years." a day passes that another 'CTURDY and masculine." Al- Old Hector rubbed his palms ner' Red trimmings, please." historical picture isn't an- rhat so, vously together. "I know. Autumn, was the order for the bed I know. But your father is not a nounced. spread in the combination work- happy man, my dear. He he is given to moods of melancholy of of brooding. Moreover, he has never considered the ranch a proper environment for you. I'm afraid it will distress him very much that you have come back." Autumn flung her head impetuously upward. "That is simple nonsense!" she declared. "Is Monte Carlo my proper environment? Is Mayfair?" She reached for a cigarette on the low lacquered table beside the couch, lit it and waved it triumphantly. "I've put up with erudition and polishing and attempts to marry me off to anemic noblemen until I'm sick of it and now I'm home. I'm home because I belong here here in British Columbia here in the Upper Country here between the Rockies and the Cascades. Doesn't that sound dramatic? And here I'm going to stick!" "You'll probably stick, as you say," Hector commented. "You've got enough of Jarvis Dean in you for that. And if you hadn't there's still the blood of Millicent Odell. If you don't get what you want from sheer stubbornness, you'll get it because no one will have the heart to refuse you." "A very dangerous combination, eh. Hector?" Autumn observed. She refused a second glass of wine, although Hector filled his own once more. She moved to the mantel and examined one or two of the curios upon it, amulets, ancient dice, an Italian dagger with a jeweled hilt a string of laca beads hanging down over the Dutch tiles. Some of the things she could recall, others had been acquired by Hector in his travels since she had last seen him. Presently her eyes fell upon a strange brass object with a strap attached to its top. She picked it up. Instantly a sound xf unutterable purity pierced the fom with a thin, thrilling resonance that seemed to drift on and on, beyond the confines of the bedecked, walls. Startled and entranced with the beauty of the sound, Autumn turned to Hector and saw that he had risen and was coming toward her. "I picked that up in Spain on a walking trip I took one year through the mountains," he told her. "It is a Basque bell a Basque sheep-bell.- " "I've never heard anything so lovely!" Autumn exclaimed, turning the bell up to examine it more carefully. Hector looked down at it and whimsical wistfulness came into his face. "I should like you to have it Autumn," he said. "When you come in again, take it out with you. There is no one else I would give it to, my dear not even your father." She looked up at him in quick, pleased surprise, holding the bell so that it chimed again, light and clear as the echo of a fay song in some unearthly place. "Do you really mean that Hector?" she said softly. "I know bow you hate to part with your treasures and this one " "It's very old," Hector murmured, and his eyes narrowed with a strange absent dimness, as though he were looking into the remote past where bis spirit -- bode in a brilliant reality. "Some shepherd in the Pyrenees, perhaps heard that bell fifty years ago when your grandmother wat a girl here in these hills, just over from Ireland. When your grandmother was breaking hearts up and down the Okanagan, my dear, some shepherd boy was listening to that plaintive note on on the other some mountain-sid- e side of the world." (TO BE COTIUED Though it hardly seems possible, "Hollywood Cavalcade" is history too, the history of the movies, re- leased for the industry's fiftieth anniversary. The heroine, played by Alice Faye, is a combination of all those golden-curle- d girls who used to act before the cameras (and as a rule most of them and Don Ameche plays the hero, who is a number of those historic leading men rolled into one. But the hit of the picture, so faf as a lot of people are concerned, is the lads who show us how slapstick comedy used to be played. Buster Keaton, Chester Conklin, Ben Tur-piHank Mann, Eddie Collins, Jimmy Finlayson there they are again, throwing custard pies with vim and vigor, staging a comedy treat for over-acted- ), and-pla- room of a y lad. and tan predominated in the room. The clever mother made :urtains for the rather large square window: using lunch cloths 'n these colors one cloth making a pair of curtains. Blue denim with red gingham oands is suggested for the spread. The diagram may be used as a guide for cutting and making a material for spread of any a bed of any width. The amount of material needed will be three times the full width of the finished spread, plus two inches. Two Blue seams covered by bands run straight across the width of the spread. The two lengthwise bands may be close together or far apart according to the width of the bed. The corners at the foot are cut out as shown. The edges are then pressed to the right side and bands stitched over them. NOTE: Readers who are now using Sewing Books No. 1, 2 and 3 will be happy to learn that No. 4 is ready for mailing; as well as the 10 cent editions of No. 1, 2 and 3. Mrs. Spears has just made quilt block patterns for three designs selected from her favorite Early American quilts. You may have these patterns FREE with your order for four books. Price of books 10 cents each postpaid. Set of three quilt block patterns without books 10 cents. Send orders to Mrs. Spears, Drawer 10, Bedford HiUs, New York. NEW PACK! YOUUG TENDER 36-in- n, Cooked Wheat Cereal World's dependable breakfast food J for centuries still the best ... f "t "t pt . ff V , eyas : . Millions of Americans still demand a steaming bowl of appetizing cooked wheat cereal for the daily morning's repast why? Because, carefully blended like Cream of the West from the meaty and nourishing center portions of golden wheat grains it's the most nourishing the most easily digested for babies for children for grown-np- s. is tastier! CREAM OF THE WEST MONTANA CEREAL CO., Billings, Montana v.; VJ- - ALICE FAYE the who used to laugh at them and the new generation who never saw them before. All hail the Keystone cops! And be it said for Alice Faye that she can take a custard pie in the face and come right up for more. old-time- By burning 25 slower than the average off the 15 brands tested slower than other of the largest-sellin- g CAMELS them of give a smoking plus equal to any Howard Hughes is returning to the picture business, since the war has cramped his style where flights are concerned. And he wants a new boy and girl team. He has shown that he's a genius when it comes to discovering and developing talent; he launched Jean Harlow in "Hell's Angels," you'll remember, and made Paul Muni a motion picture star overnight in "Scarface." He's shown, too, that he knows how to make pictures. During the long stretch when "Hell's Angels" was considered just a rich man's folly, people who bad served their time at picture-makin- g predicted that he'd never get back of the money that be was pouring Into it. It's still being shown and still making money. round-the-worl- d . one-ten- th John Charles Thomas is going Into the movies. Remember the little difference of opinion he had concerning his radio appearances, because he wouldn't sing if he couldn't conclude with "Good night Mother"? He will sing in the picture in which he makes his screen debut "Kingdom Come," whose story deals with American folk music. It will be made by Producers Corporation of America, a new motion-pictur- e company. MORE PLEASURE PER PUFF MORE PUFFS PER PACK It'a going to seem strange to nave Nelson Eddy permanently ofT that Sunday night radio program; a lot of his admirers will never be reconciled to his departure. But he feels that what with concerts, recordings and work in the movies, he hasn't time for regular radio work. Edward O. Robinson Is all In favor of realism on the radio 'and In his pictures, but It was almost too much for him at one of his broadcasts not long a (to. The script called for the sound effect of a man being hit over the head with chair. The sound effects man was to smash the chair against the wall (try It sometime and see If It sounds like the real thing). The chair slipped, hit an actor over the head, and put him In the Hollywood emergency hospital. dinner-Jackete- A Dramatic, Moving Serial by MARTHA OSTENSO ttfn mini SERIALLY IN THESE COLUMNS ODDS AMD ESO After having It on and off the tchedule tincm V.Jft, Metro ha finally put "Mot Too Narrow, Sot Too Deep" into production, with loan Crawford and Clark Gable . , . Paramount i offering the public a firm romantic tenm in "Moon Over Iturma" they're I'airiria Morriton and Robert I'reiton , . , "I era ague," o) the Charlie McCarthy program, it played fcr Itarbara lo Allen, uhnm you hear at "Ueth llnlly" on "One Mnn't f amily" . . Watch for more and better (we hope) comedie on the tciern from nmv on; motion picture ore on the hunt for torie thai Of help the public to forget the uar. iHeieaMd bf Wcaiern Nrwttp per Union. , pro-dirr- In SALT LAKE CITY THE Uf,V.i B i HOUSE HOTEL 7 Here is a truly great love orv, written with the depth of understanding which characterizes Martha Ostenso. It is the saga of young love in the mountains of British Columbia; the story of two young people kept apart by a father's past. PROLOGUE TO LOVE is a story you'll like. It is the warmly human, intensely dramatic tale of people you might know. Don't miss a single installment, BEGINS TODAY i lbs. Mum :,( i i fpmjJXri Choice of the Discriminating Traveler 400 ROOMS L1Z:SZJ Rates: Our $200,000.00 mod 400 BATHS 2.00 to U.00 ramodaling and refurnish! n? program ham available 4h finest hotel accommodations in the West AT OUR SAME POPUIJIR PRICES. CAFETERIA DINING ROOM BUFFET MIS. J. H. WATIRS, rmidmt Monagort J. HOtMAN WATHSsntf W. 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