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Show LEHI FREE PRESS, LEH1. UTAH THE BU -- 8 CHAPTER I 1 The agent in the small, dingy station at Glendale was, obviously, a little hard of hearing. Jim Fielding repeated the question in tones pitched to command attention. "Can you tell me how to reach the Vaughn place?" he asked, conscious that the two or three stragglers in the waiting - room were listening with interest. The agent Lfted melancholy fea- - j tines. "Three miles back country." The agent peered through the narrow grating. "You expected?" he asked. I hey Jim answered '?so, fcien't expecting me." "I was going to suy," the agent continued, "there hasn't been anybody from the Vaughn place in here today." He reached toward a telephone on the shelf beyond the win-" dow. "If you should want to call "No thank you," Jim said hastily, forestalling complications. "Well, there's a garage across the rtreet." The agent was determined to be helpful. "They run taxi serv- ice." ly, A wink lightened, grotesquethe solemn cast of his features. "Don't let Joe Tanner overcharge you," he said. "He don't read the papers and nobody's told him there's a depression." The stragglers laughed. Jim 6miled. The warning, he thought, was an often repeated pleasantry. It was a compliment, too, perhaps, a compliment not entirely inspired by his own prepossessing appearance. His destination, he surmised, had something to do with the matter. The agent was disposed to be affable to a prospective guest at "Meadowbrcok." If- he knew the facts of the situation ! Jim's smile deepened. He thanked the agent again and walked out of the waiting-roo- The smile faded as the glare of early afternoon struck him full in the eyes. Three miles back country! Jim stood irresolutely on the narrow plank platform. The prospect was not encouraging. He glanced across the street where, in a forest of gas pumps, stood a sedan placarded TAXI. But the garage would charge him a dollar at least. He couldn't afford that extravagance. A fool idea anyway! Jim leaned dispiritedly against a post in the ehade of the jutting roof. Why had he thought that to find the would help him spiritually or materially? There was an answer to that. The MacPhersons were all that remained of the world of his early youth which had vanished so completely. He was fed-uwith his present existence, sick of trying to find a , job, of sponging on his of making himself agreeable to pay for his bed and board. The week-enjust past had been the proverbial last straw. He'd thought that to find the MacPhersons might restore, in a measure, his confidence and might help him, somehow, to carry out one or another of the drastic decisions he had made in the Calenders' guestroom last night. It wouldn't of course. A damn-foo- l idea! Jim's eyes glowered out into dusty heat from under the brim of his hat. He was as he was and nothing could alter the facts of the situation. There was no place for liim in this new world of He was one of the uncertainties. lost generation, the boys who had left college in 192!). There were no jobs. The contacts he'd made led exactly nowhere. So what? He was too mercurial, too impulsive, too what was the quality? Well, too romantic, perhaps. Kay, his sister, was a materialist. She'd stood by him like a soldier. But she had no patience with the vagrant impulses which led him, from time to time, in varying directions. Kay set her course and steered by it with no deviations. She lacked imagination. What of it? She'd done very well for herself. Kay was right, of course. A grim smile touched Jim's lips. Impulses were luxuries. He hadn't thought of them in that light in the halcyon days before the panic. Then impulses had been the cocktails of life and had led to charming adventures. Or if following an inclination resulted unfortunately, there had been any number of people to rescue him from difficulties, his uncle's lawyer. Aunt Emily, one of his legion of friends. All that had changed. Impulses were cosily risks in the new order of existence. There was the impuhe which had brought him here in search of the MacPhersons. To Jim they were more than that. The gardener's cottage at "Whitehall" had been, in his boyhood, more friendly and exciting than the formal house set in acres of velvet lawn. The memory of Mrs. MacPherson's spice cake gave him a feeling of nostalgia. There was a she used to make, sort of plum and orange together, spread thickly on freshly baked bread. An utmosphcre of comfort and tart fcood humor had been her natural environment. She'd had the sharpest tongue and the kindest heart in the world. MacPhcrson had taught him to an excellent game of chess, !'!ay told rousing good stories, too, and let him putter around the gardens with a wheelbarrow and n spade. As c grew older, how oltc i Mac-I'herso- deb-onai- p brother-in-law- d self-estee- post-pani- c hard-heade- 1 d re ' SHIS! sponded to it at once. Her hps curved in a friendly grin: WNTJ Service. "Hello," she said. "Sorry to keep you waiting." "That's all right. What were you MacPherson had helped him out of doing, saying your prayers?" his Presbyand, scrapes outwitting terian conscience, had whitewashed "Chasing lemons and oranges." the accusing evidence of some Her apron, he saw, was filled with youthful folly. The lectures the lean them. She began to arrange the sandy Scot had delivered privately! fruit in a pyramid on the counter. Jim winced at recurring memories. "The darn things topple over a If he'd been spoiled, it wasn't the dozen times a day." She breathed a fault of the MacPhersons. sigh of exasperation. "But we must They'd been fond of him and be decorated. The boss has fancy proud of him. He had parted from ideas " Jim felt his depression lifting. them with sincere emotion when the The girl behind the fountain crash came, when Uncle James and Aunt Emily had gone to California topped the pyramid with a bright and a mortgage company had taken green lime, smoothed her apron arid 'What will you over 'Whitehall." He'd promised turned to Jim. to look them up. He hadn't, of have?" she asked. course. Not that he had forgotten "A chocolate milk and a sandthem. He'd been occupied with wich." the business of trying to find a job, "Ham? Cheese? Or?" with singing for his supper, with "Both," he answered promptly. rediscovering Lenore. "Hungry?" The MacPhersons had meant to "Starving." She smiled. retire. He'd been surprised and a little disturbed when, through his "Okay. In a jiffy." Shp biisipd herself behind the uncle's lawyer, lie had learned that they were employed by people counter. Jim watched her deft ma- nirnilntinn nf a knife with a razorT. H. Vaughn, named Vaughn "Meadowbrook," Glendale. A card edge blade. Cute, he thought, friendfrom Mrs. MacPherson last Christ- ly, amusing. Her curls were synmas had confirmed the information. thetically blonde, of course. No "Dear Jamie," she had written under a lavish sprinkling of holly sprigs and tinsel, "Andy and I are wishing you'd come to see us." Jamie! No one except the MacPhersons called him that. The name woke sleeping memories. If he could be "Jamie" again Sentimental idiot! The touching Jim's lips widened into a derisive grin. It was only that-W- ell, the week-enhad been humiliating. He'd been hurt and he was running to the MacPhersons for sympathy and comfort. A damn-foo- l idea! He was ashamed of himself. To find them would be, at best, only a temporary anesthetic, scarcely worth the pains of walking three dusty miles. He was through with misleading impulses. No more romantic whims. He would take the first train back to town, pick up his bags at the club and go on to New York. Perhaps, if he made close connections, he would reach Roselyn in time for Kay's party. At any rate, at the first opportune moment, he would ft ask Lenore to marry him. -it fl ' Jim lit a cigarette. Mental perr rplexities lulled for the moment. He was conscious of physical discom"Sorry to Keep You Waiting." fort. Hungry, that was it. He'd in its natural he had nothing to eat since breakfast. hair, waswas sure, so glinlingly goldstate, quite There must be a restaurant, some- en. Her lashes were stiff with maswhere in the village. He calculated cara and her mouth was a work of the depressing state of his finances. art sketched in raspberry Worse than he had anticipated. He'd of an virulent shade. especially had no business to play of his scrutiunaware Apparently with the Callenders last night. Such ny, she glanced at him, a knife was for the opulent. poised over dissipation open jars. Her eyes Well, he could manage a narrowed and crinkled. at least, and a sandwich "As one blonde to another," she or two. "mustard or mayonnaise?" The gave him half an asked, Jim laughed. It was, he reflected, hour for refreshments. Jim deft the station and strode off along the the first natural laugh he'd enjoyed main street of the village. Not much since last Friday at noon. The atmosphere at the Callenders had of a town, he thought, a an expensive looking been strained. He'd spent the weekMyra's acid grocery, a small brick bank with a end smiling stiffly atloud noises of pleasantries, making Colonial facade. The village, Jim surmised, served appreciation, far beyond their meras a base of supplies for the outly- it, in response to Dick's tepid ing estates. A post office painted jokes. Singing for his supper ... . "Well?" olive green, a tailor shop, a bakery. "I'm sorry," Jim apologized. The latest movies, anyway. "Mustard or mayonnaise? That's an The occupied a prominent corner location. Jim entered, important decision, isn't it? I'll A little of both if you grateful at once for the dim light compromise. after the glare of the street. The please." His reply seemed to amuse her. soda - fountain looked pleasantly cool. He seated himself and re- She returned to her task humming, moved his hat. Food and something just audibly, a gay familiar tune. cold to drink Lord, ho was hungry! Funny kid, Jim thought. Kid? Well, A head appeared at the level with eighteen or nineteen, perhaps. What the counter, a head foaming with was her name? Gladys? Gertrude? yellow curls bound by a band of Geraldine? Not that it mattered. narrow ribbon. It hovered there for Nothing mattered especially. He'd a moment and Jim heard from the give his right arm to be interested obscure region behind the fountain in something again. Anything a Life without a vexed exclamation. Presently a girl, a job, a face appeared and then the slight vital interests wasn't much fun. One rounded figure of a girl in a tea- might as. well be a turnip room uniform of crisp yellow and There must be something that he blue. She iiad eyes and a could do. He was confident, in spite tilted nose and she looked across of repeated discouragements, of his the counter with so cross an expres- ability to get on in the world. He sion that Jim was amused. had had an expensive education and "Hello." he said and smiled. a fair amount of intelligence. He Jim's smile was very engaging made friends easily. People usually The girl behind the counter re- - liked him. He was healthy enough. Ljrrunore. half-smil- e d r&&jlJ , y " lip-sal- red-do- g milk-shak- e, drug-stor- e time-tabl- e chain-store- s, t, drug-stor- e dog-figh- flax-blu- d Lvi-- Well-Dresse- t. e , -t 17. t 7l7i7i7 I7l7l7i7i7i7i7i7i7i7 717:7i7i7i7:7l7i7:7-7l7- - 1:171:1717171717:7177:717 - '3 i, -- turn, giar.ced up. -Ever thing all right?" -I beg vour pardon Oh, f:r.e. Jim assured her. He contemplated the platter. "The sandwiches are beautiful. That's a tasty arrangehard-boaement of ,:ckles and " egg I thought" she hesitated. "You locked sort of sunk." d actor." Jim said. "Doing Hamkt.' That was a private rehearsal." 'I'm an Honest?" Her eyes opened w::!e. narrowed and' crinkled. "Its , Barry:!i"re!" she exclaimed. ' Can "Kv.r.cv my embarrassrr.t-n- t r.eur-l;o;t'- .i a little I'm me? m reive " w.tiiout my J. laughed, a deep pleasant butm of genuine amusement. Surprisingly, lie felt almost (.heerfui. He apphi'd himself to the SaixiW (chef. Aiivtking else?" Jim glanced up from the remaining segments of sandwich. She had m.ide things tidy behind the counter and seemed about to disappear. The idea was depressing. To detain her. lie asked, though lie had, at present, no practical use lor the information, "Can you tell me how to reach the Vaughn place? T. II. Vaughn, 'Meadowbrook'?" The question caught and held her attention. It was obvious, at once, that she, too, was impressed by the name. The girl behind the fountain supplied detailed instructions. "South Valley road," she said, her interest in Jim deepening perceptibly. "Turn left here at the corner and again at the cross-roa- d just past the first stretch of woods. You can't miss the place. It's a white house on a hill. Sort of pretty," she conceded. "There's a brook through the meadtl.-- n -- -- - - - - 17717.7-7-7-7-7-7-7- -7 -- -- - te'Wi-fc'f l ' Iff l opera-gias.-es.- ow." there would be a brook," Jim' said, "and one meadow, at least." "Oh sure! That was silly, wasn't it?" She had apparently abandoned The any idea of disappearing. Vaughn estate seemed to be an absorbing topic of conversation. She perched on a stool behicd the fountain and regarded Jim attentively, her eyes glinting with secret amusement. "You're a friend of Cecily's, I suppose." Jim was unable to make an intelligent reply. Who the devil was Cecily? He had let himself in for explanations. Why had he asked the "I assumed question? The girl, however expected no reply. That he and "Cecily" were friends was an established fact, Jim decided, so far as she was con- cerned. "I know somebody who won't set fire - works because you've come," she added with an air of off lively enjoyment. "Do you?" Jim asked, slightly startled. "That's not a pleasant prospect." "You needn't worry," she said "You can handle encouragingly. him." Jim felt that she was measuring the ample breadth of his shoulders, appraising, with admiration which she made no attempt to conceal, his six feet and an odd inch or so of flexible muscles and lean hard flesh. What in blazes? Who was "him"? A potential rival, perhaps. Jim was intrigued. "Are you sure?" he asked smiling. "Dollars to doughnuts. guy!" Her expression was That scorn- ful. "What Cecily sees in him " She broke off, her denouncement of the unknown rival apparently checked by an idea. "When you get there," she said, "you can do something for me." "Out there" meant "Meadowbrook" of course. Now for explanations. "Can I?" Jim asked, stalling for time, curious to discover her real interest in the Vaughn estate. "You can tell Tommy" She paused to find fitting words in which to phrase her message. The scornful expression was gone. Again Jim observed her former air of secret amusement, the mischief glinting like dancing imps in her eyes. "Tell Tommy not to come in tonight. Privately, if you know what. I mean. ou look like a pretty good egg." (To HE (.( yk&&k u; FT WAS some job, Ladies of The Sewing Circle, to get these three lovelies together to pose for the camera this week. They're under the strict tutelage of Dame Fashion just now, learning the latest lessons on how to be well turned out this Spring without benefit of a private mint. You can understand, then, why the co-e- d above, center, sort of jumped the gun, so to speak, and was already on her way when the cam era clicked, A Frock That Clicks. of things clicking, Speaking don't think that new princess gown she's wearing isn't doing it in a big way. Can't you see from where you're sitting that it is simple to sew besides being a of the first order? The buttons half way and a neat little collar in contrast are all its lively lines need to complete the perfect balance chic vs. simplicity. Take a tip from this stylish student and figure it out for your-- ; self in cashmere or velveteen. The style is 1202 and it can be had in sizes Size 14 requires 4ss yards of 39 inch material plus 38 yard contrasting. Go Print for Spring. The charming young lady above, left, has chosen to model a very dainty and rather picturesque lit-- ; tie frock for she believes you'll be interested in this style as a fitting gesture to Springtime. Es-- ; pecially in a modern print, fea-- ! turing, say, pussycats or deep-se- a flowers, would this frock be tempting. The skirt is bias-cu- t for artistic reasons, and the circles of contrast aid and abet its Let yourself go gracefulness. print then, come Spring. Style 1257 is designed in sizes (30-4- 0 -- TTTT-T-TT-- T Tl7i7i7:7i7i7i7i7i7i7i7i7:7iTl7::'-'- . -' - -t i t i r icQyjt M1 iff ft figure- -flatterer 12-2- 0 (30-33- ). becoming collar, a simple - sleeve - in - one construction, and a slender action-buil- t skirt. Put them all together they spell CHIC that little word with a vast meaning. 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