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Show TRAILER GIRL By VERA BROWN WNUS THE STOKY THUS FAR Lvt. Morrow, beautiful blonde New York Klrl- ts strantlt'd 1" Piilm Bench in her batliiiiH sult wi,h onl-v 511 conls when her emplover. Mrs. Helen Warren, dis-' dis-' ,)(.a,s with car and trailer from a cimp where she, Buddy, her son, and Lvnn had been living. A note from Mrs. Warren advises Lynn to call at her New York attorney's otllce tor her rlothes and wages. She is rescued by Terry McNair, whom she met at the beach. She goes to his home, where he has a maid provide her with some of his sister's evening clothes. They then go to a beach club. His sister appears and a ouarrel ensues. Lynn accepts the help of a stranger to escape. He takes her to his home where he identifies himself as Raymond (Wild) Austin. He accuses her of trying to blackmail him. CHAPTER III Rene Bouchier drove his flivver on in silence. After another ten minutes min-utes Rene turned off the main highway high-way north, drove down a dirt road. "I park off the highways. Can't afford camps. Hope you don't mind kerosene lamps. I don't dare run my batteries down any more," he explained. Another 200 feet and Rene's yellow trailer loomed bright in their headlights. "Here we are. You don't mind roughing it a bit?" "I'm so grateful," Lynn began. "Cut it!" He unlocked the door of the little house on wheels. "Come on in and I'll show you how the bunks work." Lynn did not explain she was well "Where do you work?" he asked "I don't." "Where do you live?" More tears. "I'm stranded, here in Florida! If I only could get back to New York. I haven't even any clothes." "I say, that's bad." "Yes." "What are you going to do?" "I don't know. I've got just 20 cents to my name." "I haven't much more." Bouchier got out a vile-smelling pipe and lighted it. He pulled away meditatively. medita-tively. "I'm not much help to a lady in distress. I'm just a mug." He straightened his shoulders. "But I'll do what I can," he added. Lynn's sobs were quieting down now. ii juu stop crying, you can sleep in my trailer tonight. I'm out at the edge of town. I'm going north in the morning. By then, maybe you can think of somebody who can help you." Lynn looked at him doubtfully. He was a slim, dark, young man, but he had a kind face. "Trailer?" Lynn shuddered at the word. If only she'd never heard of a trailer. If only she'd never gone to work for Mrs. Warren and agreed to come South with her. At least she would feel better starving in New York than here in this strange country which was so beautiful, and so unsympathetic. "Sure, a trailer. Ever been In one? They're swell." Lynn did not answer him. "I'll do the handsome thing, turn over my bunk to you. I'll sleep in the flivver." He banged his hands aware of trailer living. The house was hidden among the palm trees, a pleasant spot. It was lonely here, but somehow Lynn was not afraid. After all she had been through nothing noth-ing now seemed terrifying. Rene went Into the trailer first. "Wait until I find the light," he called to her, leaving her standing on the step in the moonlight. He fumbled about for a while and Lynn could hear him strike a match. A sickly flame burned. "Come on in, it's a bit of a mess. I'm not much good at this sort of thing, I guess." Lynn stepped up into the doorway. door-way. Inside the oil lantern dimly lit the interior. It was decidedly a mess as he said. Paints, brushes, canvases, dirty dishes, left-over food cluttered the place. Lynn thought of Mrs. Warren's immaculate rolling roll-ing house and shuddered inwardly. At least she could clean the place up lor mm. Lynn suddenly realized she was completely exhausted. She made up the bed, slipped out of her dress and finally found the promised pajamas. She gave up about the toothbrush. In five minutes she had crawled into her bunk, another five she was in a deep sleep. It was seven hours later when Lynn opened her eyes. The bright sunlight blinded her and the motion of the trailer rocked her comfortably. comforta-bly. She pressed her face against the screened window above her head. The trailer was moving briskly brisk-ly through the Florida landscape. Bouchier had started north in the night, while she slept. She jumped out of bed and dressed hurriedly. She was very hungry and wondered what time it was. Rene's only clock had stopped, of course. If she was ever to get breakfast she must clear things up a little. Accustomed to working in a moving trailer, Lynn set about her task. She struggled with the stove, put some water on for coffee. There was a neat little gadget to hold the tea kettle in place. CHAPTER II Continued 3 The maid went off shaking her head at the ways of the young women wom-en of today. Lynn stood there for a long time after the maid left. Then she went to the clothes closet With sudden determination she chose a gingham dress which she was sure cost little and she found some white low-heeled sandals. She put on the simple frock and went over and looked at herself in the mirror. "There, Mr. Wild!" she said aloud sticking out her tongue as she spoke. That seemed to relieve her feelings feel-ings for a little, but soon she dissolved dis-solved into tears again. "I can't stay here!" She turned suddenly. It could not be so terribly late. Not more than midnight. She looked again out into the night. She could get back to West Palm Beach somehow. Then what? How could she get back to New York? And if she did? Lynn paced up and down the room for a while. It seemed to be smothering smoth-ering her. She opened the door out into the hall. All was quiet. No matter what happened, she was going! go-ing! She got the 50 cents out of Helen's Hel-en's purse, put it carefully in her pocket Then she went to the desk and wrote a note: "Please see that this frock and bag are returned to Helen McNair. Thank you." That was alL She put the note and the garments on the bed, walked to the door and tiptoed quietly out. When she got to the street she felt quite forlorn. She began walking. walk-ing. It would be a long hike across the bridge. On that long promenade toward Royal Palm Way many cars drew up beside the slim little blonde. Finally a taxi came along. In despair de-spair she hailed it "How much to take me across the bridge?" she asked. "Twenty-five cents across, 25 cents in West Palm Beach," he said. Desperate, she got in. Once she thought she saw Austin's car drive by. Then she decided she was wrong. What a horrible person he was! She shut her eyes and tried to rest a little. It took the cab only a short time to get across the bridge. "I haven't enough money for you to take me further," she called to the driver. "I'll be a good sport and drive you home, girlie, just for luck," he retorted. "No, thank you!" But she was touched-at his kindness. Home! If anybody else said that word to her she'd break down completely. The driver let her out near a street car. She paid him, and kept her precious quarter. It was now well toward one o'clock. Lynn felt uncomfortable un-comfortable on the street when she passed a police officer, who looked at her curiously. So alarmed was she, she bolted into the first restaurant restau-rant she saw and sat down at the counter. "Coffee," she said. Here would go another nickeL That left 20 cents. She could go from one restaurant to another, then maybe when daylight day-light came she might have courage to go to the Y. W. C. A. and tell her story. But who would believe it? The waiter brought the coffee and waited for his money. Lynn tried to drink the scalding stuff, but it choked her. Briskly she made up her bed, began be-gan piling up canvases. In half an hour, she had the little trailer looking look-ing fairly tidy. "I can't scrub with the thing moving," she decided. Lynn hunted about for some means of signaling to the driver. Mrs. Warren had such a contraption, contrap-tion, and -at last she found Rene's. A wire came through from the front. She pulled on it vigorously. The trailer began to slow down. Rene pulled over to the side of the road. Rene got out stiffly, and came around to the door. "Good morning," morn-ing," he called. "Breakfast is almost ready," she replied as she put some eggs on to boil. Rene came into the trailer. "Whew! You have been working! The place looks swell!" He grinned. Lynn had set the little table, the coffee was sending out a delectable odor. At that moment, Lynn was squeezing oranges, and her blond hair curled about her warm flushed face. "This is going to be great." He paused. "I hope you're not mad because I started last night. I got They sat down to breakfast, the strange young painter and the girl. down on the steering wheel. "We down-and-outers have got to stick together." Then he added by way of explanation: explana-tion: "I'd give you money for a hotel, ho-tel, but I've got just about enough to buy gas and grub to get me back in New York." He stepped on the starter. In a panic Lynn began to wonder. She couldn't go back to that tourist camp. Not with this strange man! "Are you in a camp?" "Lord, no, can't afford it. I'm out in the country." Then they both lapsed into silence. They hadn't gone far when Lynn remarked: "There's a car following us." "I thought that, too." He turned to Lynn. "Anybody likely to take a pot-shot at me?" "Oh, no!" the car was gaining on them. Lynn was suddenly afraid. It might be that Austin coming to demand the dress she'd stolen! "Oh, it might be a man I'm running away from," she said in a weak voice at last. "It might, might it?" Rene roared. "Say, what's the idea?" cold feet. Thought that guy might come back." Lynn nodded. "Where are we?" "I've done all right. We're about thirty miles south of St. Augustine. Nice going." He was scrubbing his face at the sink. , "You must be very tired," Lynn said contritely. "I won't miss one night's sleep. Can you drive?" "Indeed I can." "Maybe I can teach you to run this thing; then we'll get to New York quicker." They sat down to breakfast, the strange young painter and the Kirl, and as they drank their orange juice Rene laughed: "I don't mind telling you I'm glad to have somebody along. There was a guy came down with me and he did the cooking. But he met a girl in Florida and got married and sailed off and left me." Lynn smiled at him over her coffee cup. "If you'll consider that I'm taming tam-ing my way, I'm 'crew.' I'll really try to help." "You have already, and you'll really work unless you eat hot dogs all the way to Manhattan!" It was a gay meal, and Lynn was happier than she bad been for months. The weather was gorgeous, hot sun, white- sands, bright palms. (TO BE COATAXED; "No, no! I don t even Know mm, but I ran out on a party I didn't like. Please believe me!" "All right, crawl over in the back seat and pull my coat over you, quick." Lynn had hardly got settled on the floor in the rear of the car when Austin's fast automobile overtook Rene and he blew his horn. "Hi, there! I want to talk to you," Wild called. Rene slowed down. "Seen a stray blonde any place?" Austin asked. "They told me in that restaurant she left with you." "Yes, I dropped her at the Y. W. C A.," Rene called back. "0. K. Thanks." Austin, with a screech of brakes, swung his car about and was gone down the road again in a flash. "You can come out now, Rene yelled above the rattle of his car as he hurried on in the opposite direction. di-rection. Gingerly Lynn climbed back over into the front seat. Not that I'm curious, but you might tell me what this is all about, Rene remarked. "It's a long story" So I should imagine. But is this guy likely to turn out the gendarmes? gen-darmes? I don't mind helping a la"How can he come back? How can he find us?" Lynn asked "He found us once, didn t he? I m not interested in getting shot! Tears began to run down her cheeks, and her fatigue made it impossible for her to control herself. She had not noticed a young man in a turtle-necked sweater who had j come in and was sitting beside her. "What's wrong?" he asked. Lynn could not answer. The tears came faster. "Better drink that coffee and get out of here. Come!" he said in a matter-of-fact voice. Hypnotized, Lynn walked out, beside be-side the strange young man, deeply grateful to have somebody to walk; along the street with her. "Sorry, are you in a jam?" "Yes." "Why don't you go home? I'll take you!" "Oh!" Lynn stopped. "Please don't say that!" "Here's my Lizzy. Get in. You can sit there until you stop crying. can't walk around West Palm Beach weeping all over the place without people noticing it." That seemed logical enough. Lynn was grateful for the dark and the quiet. "My name's Lynn Morrow. I sup-Pose sup-Pose I ought to tell you that," she managed between her sobs. "Mine's Bouchier, Rene Bouchier. 1 Paint." "Paint?" "Pictures." "Oh." |