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Show SOUTH CACHE COURIER Thought for Youth Wntffin IBamomcBEPS JSvj lEMHILniE Emllie Loring. CHAPTER VII Continued 13 He crept to a window and peered in. Dark as pitch except for a white blur. That must be the cover of Aunt Mary Amandas old limousine. Why was the unused car directly opposite the door? He remembered now. Jed had told him that he had o. k.d an offer Henri Jacques had reported for the machine. Probably the butler had planned to drive it off in the morning. The man who had just made his had stopped here. Why? Had he hidden loot? The silver? But the silver had been in the storeroom only a few hours ago. A few hours! Much could happen in a few hours while the occupants of the Other House had been at supper at out-of-da- get-aw- te ay the Reyburns. Hed better investigate.' Lucky he still carried the key to his aunts garage on his ring. In the days when they had been friendly, she had insisted upon his having a key to the house as well. Soundlessly he slid back the door, squeezed in, closed and locked it. - the light in his torch dimmed, he tiptoed carefully between the automobiles. Brookes long, sleek town car. Sams convertible coupe. The white cloth cover of the old limousine was awry as if it had been hastily adjusted. Part of it lay on the floor. What was that mark? A footprint! A footprint faint but bloody! With With a childish impulse to clutch their coats and keep the men with her, Brooke Reyburn had listened to the closing of the door behind Mark Trent and Jed Stewart. They had pleaded an early morning start for the city, but she was sure that they had gone because they resented Jerry Fields sulky silence. She would have been glad to get away from his gloomy presence herself. She glanced at him as he stood before the fire. From the back of the house came the crash of dishes, a shout of laughter. Brooke sprang to her feet. "I wonder what went then. I suspect that Lucette and Sam started g and that Daphne was drawn into the scuffle. I should have known better than to let them wash the dishes. Come on, Jerry. Lets investigate. Id rather know the worst at once. Field straightened and thrust his hands hard into his pockets. Same here, Brooke. I want to know what you were doing in Mark Trents house while we were at re- Lucette frowned at Field. Cant you smile for the lady, Jerry? Ill tell you one thing. Id rather be a giggler than a gob of gloom. Goodnight! She dashed from the room. Daphne ran into the hall. Lucette, dont forget that Mark Trent is giving us a party tomorrow night at that swell new Supper club. Lucette hung over the mahogany rail. Forget! Not a chance. Think Ill forget a night off from rehearsing? Nothing short of an act of God will keep me away. Sam, the old tyrant, is giving us a break. Ill be seeing you. Jerry Field picked up his sisters coat. Come on, Daph, lets go. If Id known that we were to have a night off, I would have taken you dining and dancing, Brooke. Nice of you, but I think that a party will be heaps more fun. You would think that. I dont know why but this whole evening has gone haywire. Come O", Daph. Daphne Field snuggled her hand in Sam Reyburns. Good-nigh- t, Sammy. Dont love me much, do you, darling? Sam shook off her hand. Ill love you when you learn your lines, and whats moie, if you dont learn em, youll be tossed off the lot. You mean that Ill be fired? Daphne opened her eyes at their rough-housin- hearsal. Why should you think Her I had been in his house? Heart Mounted to Her Throat and Stuck There. I, fired, after Ive had gowns made to wear that will simply stop the show? Come on, Jerry. Nobody likes us here. From the threshold she threw a kiss to Sam. He grinned. Sam, do you like Daphne? asked Brooke. Shes good fun. Swell looker, isnt she? Didnt Stewart find a gardenia widest. outside his front door? So what? I suppose there couldnt be another woman in the world who might call on Mr. Trent wearing a flower, or did you corner the gardenia market today, Jerry? Fields expression changed from gloom to cheer. Theres something in that. Trent certainly is a wow with the ladies. I hear that he could dine out three times an evening if hed accept the invitations heaped on him. It gets me why he settled down in this burg. Dont be sore at me, sweet thing. Wasnt it natural for me to think the flower yours when Stewart produced the gardenia that he found at Trents front door when you werent wearing any? Eefore she could answer she heard someone approaching. She drew a breath of relief as Sam and the two girls entered. What smashed in the kitchen, Sam? I thought the chimney had fallen in. Nothing but a stack of those warranted unbreakable plates Clotilde And keeps things on in the did they crack up? The floor looked as if thered been a snowstorm. The sound brought Henri down the back stairs in n harry. Ever seen him in his robe de nuit, Brooke? What a giggler you are, Lucette! Of course I havent. Youve missed the laugh of your life. He was something straight out of a Cruikshank edition of Dickens. Night cap with tassel; night shirt, I believe it was called back in the dark ages; thin bow legs, and flapping slippers Was he embarrassed? He was not. He behaved more as if he were afraid wed miss the appeal of his costume. He ran around like this. She trotted across ice-bo- x. vthe floor. In the room she had made her boudoir, Brooke slipped out of the lace frock. If only she could shed with it the haunting sense of having said the wrong thing. She had been bitterly unkind when she had reminded Mark Trent of his divorce. If she could apologize to him and get it off her mind, it would help. Well, she couldnt. Perhaps if she wore the hair shirt of remorse for a while, it would teach her to guard her tongue. In a heavily embroidered Chinese house-coof vivid green, she pulled forward the chair at her desk and began writing a letter to her moth- ILflDIRHRKGi move. How still the room was! The silence of fear enveloped her like a cold mist and turned her fingertips to ice. Perhaps she was in a nightmare and could waken herself. Glorious thought. Shed scream. Her mouth remained open as a hatless man in blue denim slipped past the swaying hanging. His head was wet and sleek as a seals; his face below his eyes bad eyes was so thickly plastered with white as to be unrecognizable. He gave one furtive glance over his shoulder before he flitted in ghostly silence from the room. Brooke pulled out the drawer of her desk. It crashed to the floor spilling the contents. Maddening! It would do that when she was in a hurry. On her knees she scrambled after an electric torch which had rolled under a chair. She dashed to the hall. Who was the man? What was the stuff on his face? Shed never forget those wicked eyes above a smear of white. The house was dark and still. She ran toward Sams room. Stopped. Better not start him on a man hunt. He was so impetuous. How did she know that the intruder hadnt a gun? She must go Scotland Yard herself. The hall clock told the hour. The sound echoed through the house. Only twelve? It seemed hours since to Sam in she had said good-nigthe living-rooand years since Mark Trent and Jed Stewart had gone home. She tiptoed to the balustrade and listened. A squeak! She put her hand hard over her heart to stop its thumping. Was a window being opened cautiously? If only the wind would stop for a minute. Had the squeak come from the next room which was being used for scenery? It had a small iron balcony like the one which connected Lookout House and Mark Trents. A person might easily slide down the trellis. She tiptoed into the room and closed the door softly behind her. This must be the window that had squeaked; it was wide open. It had been closed this afternoon when she had come in to scatter green paint on the flats and to give another splash of red to the peak of roof on the backdrop. She flashed her light around the room then on the floor over which a sheet had been spread. A can of red paint had been overturned! It was sluggishly spreading. Tipped over recently! Slowly Brookes light traveled. A red footprint! Uncannily like a bloody one. The man must have stepped into the thick paint. Another! One beyond that under the window. Cautiously she followed the trail. A smooch of red on the window sill. He had gone that way. Was he on the balcony? What would she see if she looked out? She must look out. She wouldnt close her eyes tonight unless she knew that the man had gone where, she wouldnt care, if he were gone. She leaned out cautiously. There was nothing human in sight, only a one - eyed moon was watching through a maze of branches. Cold winter moonlight turned a towering hemlock to purple, shadows to amethyst, and scattered a shimmering trail of golden topaz on the dark water of the harbor. Had one of the shadows moved down by the ht tree? It had. That meant that the man was out of the house! She cautiously closed and locked the window. Pulled the hangings across it. That was that! She curtained the other window, turned to switch on the be. H he keeps faithf a each hour of the working may safely leave the final to itself. WNU Servlet. wall light. Stopped. The door was opening! A glare of light. Had the man come back? Had he a pal? Had her heart parked in her throat forever? She couldnt see, but she could still hear: Well, for the love of Mike! The wall light snapped on. Brookes blood, which she had thought frozen, surged through her veins. Sam was staring at her, Sam in pink and white pajamas which made him look for all the world like an animated stick of striped candy. His copper colored hair was on end; without his spectacles his eyes were big and dark and vague. He shook her arm. Hey! Snap out of it, Brooke! Have you got that darn scenery so on your mind that youre walking in your sleep to sling paint in here? Brooke swallowed the lump in her throat. ' I wasnt asleep, Sam, and I wasnt slinging paint. I heard something. Her voice sounded hoarse to herself. A window being opened? Thats what I heard. But how could you get here so soon? Breathlessly she told him of the man who had slipped through her room, of following him into the hall. Youre kidding! No? Then why didnt you yell for me? Youre so reckless, Sam, I was afraid you might be hurt. Thats the funniest thing I ever heard. How about yourself? Beat it back to bed. Sam the boy sleuth is hot on the trail. You mustnt go downstairs. Who says I mustnt. Ill snoop around outside to be sure the guy has gone. Beat it. If you go down, I go too. Oh all right, all right. I know better than to argue with you when you use that tone, Brooke. Got a flash? Well creep down the back stairs. Follow me. Well get into the front of the house that way. He switched out the wall light, opened the door and stood motionless, listening. Lets He can with t CHAPTER VIII The dusk about Mark in the peS certainty count on waking some fine morning to find himself one of the competent ones of hi, generation in whatever pursuit he may have singled out. Silentw between all the details of his bus? ness, the power of judging in alJ that class of matter will have built itself up within him as a posses-sion that will never pass awav William James. Famous Hymn The recent sale of the original manuscript of Onward, Christian Soldiers, recalls the manner in which that stirring religious hymn cae inmto being. Some Yorkshire (Eng.) pupils years ago, planned to make a Whitsuntide procession to a neighboring church. They asked their young curate, Rev. Sabine Baring Gould, to write them a marching song. He sat down, composed the hymn in a few minutes. Originally sung to a tune by Joseph Haydn, its music now is that of Sir Arthur Sullivan. He composed the music as the result of a sudden inspiration. Washing, ton Post. Ill I'LL NBVER GO TO DINNER WITH A BOY AGAIN UNLESS HAVE I SOME PHILLIPS' TABLETS IN MY PURSE go! Brooke nodded in response to his whisper. The hall seemed miles long as she tiptoed through the dark; the back stairs endless in number as she stole down, stopping at every creak, holding her breath at every sound which echoed as if amplified in the walls. Sam stopped at the kitchen door to listen. Crept on to the front hall. Brooke controlled an hysterical urge to laugh as she stole after him. The Reyburns go sleuthing, she thought, and chuckled. She felt Sams quick turn and glare, though she couldnt see it. The turn was catastrophic. He lurched into a chair. His muttered, was submerged in a Thunder! hoarse command: Dont move! Ive got you covered! ? result acid indigestion is diand offensive to stressing to you others. But now there is no excuse for being guilty. You simply carry your alkalizer and use it at the first with you of sign upset stomach. Simply take two tiny tablets of Phillips Milk of Magnesia when out with if at home you others. Or can take two teaspoons of liquid Phillips. Both act the same way. Relief is usually a matter of seconds. Gas, nausea, hearall respond tburn, acid breath sure make you ask Just quickly. for Phillips. Often ga- rage went black. A bloody footprint! Had the crime horror spread to this small point of land? Brooke! Had anything happened to her? The possibility stopped his heart. He had been so intent upon finding Jed, upon identifying the prowler that he had not thought ofdanger to the occupants of Lookout House. Sam was there. Nothing could happen to his si3ter with that boy near.1 Why was he letting his imagination loose? Would a man who stopped for a shave and a bath in the midst g of be guilty of a bloody crime? But the footprint? W WNU HOTEL BEN LOMOND house-enterin- (TO BE CONTINUED) at er. Suddenly she looked up at the mirror, and her heart mounted to her throat ard stuck there, beating, beating. Reflected in the looking-glasthe silver-shhanging between bedroom and boudoir filled and swung like the sail of a boat. What had set it in motion? Had a window been opened? She was too far from tha bell to ring. Suppose she rang? Who would answer? Henri and Clotilde were locked in their room probably. What should she do? She stared at the mirror. How could a person get in? From the balcony under the bath-roowindow? That meant that he had come through Mark Trents house. d man who Was it the had been in the attic this evening? She swallowed her heart. She couldnt sit here forever. She must s, ot m black-glove- P. Q. Not I. Q Called Real Basis of Success, by a University Authority Success depends upon a good P. Q. and not I. Q., says Mrs Beatrice Hunter Cahill, of Boston universitys department of student counseling. Mrs. Cahill says a P. Q. person- ality quotient is so important that is lost, without it the writes a Boston United Press correspondent. Future success can be assured only when personality for specific vocations is commensurate with abilities, capacities and aptitudes, she says. Mrs. Cahill believes a man must be master of himself before he can master others. The teaching field in particular requires social balance, because a highly neurotic teacher in the classroom is an incentive to lack of discipline, job-hunt- er the educator says. "A teacher should be emotionally and have a personality. Many doctors devote their lives to research work because they do not have the ability to make the social contacts necessary in general practice, she says. Personality problems start at birth and end at death, Mrs. Cahill says. The first adjustment is made when the pupil enters the public school system and adjustment continues even after a satisfactory life vocation is found. An important factor and cause of unhappiness in this world is the inability to make vocational adjustments, due to personality handicaps. well-balanc- ed self-confide- nt OGDEN, UTAH - Bath 350 Room-3- 50 Family Room for 4 person Air Cooled Grill Room , 2.00 to $4.00 - - 4 Lounge and Lobby Shop . . Tap Bx .. Coffee Home of Rotary-Kiwania-E- xtivM 20-3- U Exchange Optimus Chamber of Commerce and Aa HOTEL BEN LOMOND Gome aa you are T. E. Fitzgerald, MS1 |