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Show The honorable Uncle Lancy By ETHEL HUESTON O Bobb.-Mtnlll Co. WNU Strvlct CHAPTER IX Continued 11 "I'd like to wring Len Hardesty's neck," said Aunt Olympia. "This is what I call a blow below the belt." "Len Hardesty." Adele looked suddenly sick. "Aunt Olympia do you think Len did this to my sister?" sis-ter?" "Oh, naturally," said Aunt Olympia Olym-pia philosophically. "That's his business. busi-ness. But he never seemed to notice no-tice Helen he never paid any attention atten-tion to her or what she was doing. I didn't suppose he even knew about it. Those lousy newspaper men! They know everything. Can't keep their minds on one girl even a beauty got to be nosing into everything!" ev-erything!" Adele stood up. She looked dazed. "I told him," she said faintly. "I told him Sunday. I thought it was funny." "You told him Sunday, Adele? . . . Oh, that's it, then! He cocked up that speech and sicked the A.P. onto us." "But Aunt Olympia would he do that?" Adele stammered. And her face was so white and anguished, an-guished, her wide eyes had turned to such midnight darkness, that Aunt Olympia's heart went out to her. "It's his job, my dear, and a job's a job." Hilda appeared in the door. "It's Mr. Hardesty, looking like the wrath of God and if he didn't sleep in those clothes then I'm no laundress." laun-dress." Adele started swiftly for the side door. "Don't go, my dear," said the Senator gently. "It's always good politics to hear both sides." Adele turned obediently and went to the window and stood with her back to the room, to the door Len Hardesty would enter, staring out Into the garden with eyes that saw nothing. Helen and Limpy stood up, rigid, white of face, as Len Hardesty Har-desty came in. Aunt Olympia poured herself a cup of coffee. The Senator patted his lips with a napkin, nap-kin, despite the fact he had eaten nothing. "Hello, Len," he said. "Bring some hot coffee, Hilda. Sit down, Len." "The wrath of God" well described de-scribed him. He was pale. He had not shaved. His eyes were black and dark-circled. He glanced just once at Adele's slim back silhouetted, silhouet-ted, against the windows. "Well, there's the devil to pay now," he said dejectedly. "Well, pay him!" said Olympia crisply. "You've got your fingers on his purse-strings, haven't you?" "Oh, I'm paying and don't think I'm not," he said doggedly. "Senator, "Sen-ator, I I give you my word, I never nev-er anticipated this." "Was it a nightmare?" asked Aunt Olympia. "Oh, I know I should have realized real-ized I was stirring up a hornet's nest, but we've been in such a damned hole over the whole mess I just thought it would be one more jack-in-the-box from the bag of tricks." "You wrote that speech, Len Hardesty, Har-desty, and don't you dare to deny it." "I don't deny it. And that's all I did do. I thought maybe it would stir up a little local fuss and maybe entice a few rabidly Americanistic partisans, and God knows we need them. I thought it would shut the Senator up on subversive activities, which the Governor doesn't know a tinker's dam about." "If that's all you did, how about these papers?" demanded Aunt Olympia. "The dirty skunk! d'Allotti, I mean. It suddenly dawned on him that if he could drag you into it, Senator, you'd get him out to clear your own skirts. Use your pull with the administration. He called the newsmen after I left. A pal down there tipped me off and I flew back down. I've worked like a devil on it but I couldn't stop it." "You'd better have a drink, Len," said the Senator kindly. "You look all in. Ring, Ollie." "Scotch and soda for me," he said briefly. "You'd better have ham and eggs. Bring him some food, Hilda. After all, we can't starve snakes on our very doorstep. It would give us a bad press." "It's not irreparable, even yet, Senator." said Len Hardesty. "Now if you had a good publicity man like me, for instance " "He's on his way out here, now," said the Senator. "Cece, too. We 'phoned him." "He'll work out the details. And if he's good enough, he can even make capital of it. Of course, he'll get you a nation-wide hook-up to answer the charges. He will not let you make any statements until you have spoken straight to the nation. na-tion. He will have you start off by saying that from the beginning of time it has been the practice of cowards and curs to hide behind the skirts of a woman preferably, a young and pretty woman." "Now, in the second place, after holding him up to public scorn for trying to ease out behind a petticoat, you will adroitly mention that his purpose is to get you to use your influence to get him out of the jam." "Get him out! I'd get him Into the electric chair, if I could!" "Work that in, In your own suave and diplomatic language. You will bring out that he was received at all the best houses in Washington, and if you meet a man at the home of the President or a cabinet member, mem-ber, you cannot very well ask if he is a spy. You'll use your record which is okay, for I've been combing comb-ing it myself. Of course, you can prove that Helen didn't show him any papers because you never took any home with you and they were locked up. This really should make a sort of martyr out of you and win you any number of votes. You know voters." "But how about me?" asked Helen Hel-en faintly. "What does it do to me, Len?" Len looked at her. Helen looked more anguished, Aunt Olympia thought, than she had at the funeral so long ago. "It's a tough break, Helen," he said. "You've just got to keep your head up and take it on the chin. He's using you as a cover-up and everybody will know it. You didn't tell him anything, and stick to it. You merely met him." "She couldn't tell him anything confidential," said the Senator stoutly. stout-ly. "For I never told her anything. any-thing. Most of it was so technical I didn't really understand it myself. I just believe we ought to have strong defense; and anything they said was for better defense, I was in favor of." "Helen," said Len, diffidently, "do you mind telling us about the map you gave him?" "Mapl I never gave him a map!" "She couldn't! I haven't got a map myself." "He says you gave him a map of our national defenses." "She never had a map!" "He couldn't possibly mean that relief map of the United States, could he? Don't you remember. Uncle Lancy? I asked you about it. He brought the map to show how vulnerable we are and I asked you." "Was it your map, Helen?" "No, he brought it. He marked all our vulnerable points with a red pencil. And I asked you, Uncle Lancy, and you said the Mexican border was defended, and the Atlantic Atlan-tic seaboard had strings of defenses all across the country and that all the shipbuilding places were fortified, forti-fied, and Boston and Manhattan and Washington. Don't you remember? I marked them with a blue pencil." "And you gave him the map?" "No. After we had it marked, he rolled it up to take along and I said I wanted it to send as a sort of souvenir. I kept it." "Have you got it?" "Yes. It's up in my desk." "Will you get it?" "Yes, of course." Aunt Olympia turned to Limpy. "Do you feel better, darling? Do you want an aspirin?" "No. I just want a good sharp stiletto with a poisoned point. Helen is so good " "Sow the wind and reap the whirlwind," whirl-wind," said Len moodily. "That's what I did." "Well, experience is a good thing," said the Senator sympathetically. sympathet-ically. "I know I've learned a lot that way." "Here is the map," said Helen. "See, Uncle Lancy? Gabriel drew the blue lines to show where we are vulnerable. I didn't know anything about it myself and you told me about defending the shipyards and the cities and the harbors " The Senator examined the map with two pairs of glasses. "Dear me, Helen, you did a very bad job of it," he said reprovingly. "You must have those forts 200 miles off. And those submarine bases tch, tch, tch, tch!" "I didn't try to be accurate," said Helen. "I didn't know enough, in the first place. We weren't being technical about it. But when he was criticizing our unpreparedness, I just boastfully drew red lines around every city I could think of." "Is anything of secret nature indicated in-dicated on this map?" asked Len. "Lord, no," said the Senator with unwonted profanity. "There's not only nothing secret; there's nothing noth-ing right. I'm afraid I didn't make myself very clear, Helen." "Yes, you did, Uncle Lancy; but you weren't trying to be explicit and I didn't think it made any difference whether I put the red marks north or south, or even if I missed the town entirely; we were laughing; it was just a joke then!" she added, add-ed, pathetically. "You can give photostatic copies of this map to the press," suggested Len Hardesty. "Not till after your speech. That's the highlight And rest assured, the nation'll be on the air, from White House down to white wings . . . It's more easily reparable repara-ble for you than for me," he said with another glance at Adele's silhouette sil-houette before the window. "Well, I'll be getting along. Senator. I'm sorry. We're reduced to snatching at straws; I thought this was a straw and snatched at it; I didn't realize it was tied to dynamite." The Senator held out his hand. "Good-by, Len. It was a bad break. You look thin. Doesn't Brother Wil-kie Wil-kie see that you get your three squares a day?" 1 "You look terrible," said Aunt Olympia cheerfully. "You're a couple of swell sports," he said moodily. "You've ruined the whole campaign for me. Remember Remem-ber how I used to love campaigns? Not any more!" CHAPTER X It seemed to Aunt Olympia that she had been called upon that day to endure more than could reasonably reason-ably be expected even of a President's Presi-dent's wife. But the day was not over. She had no more than seen them all comfortably relaxed and settled down when Dave Cooper arrived ar-rived with Cecil Dodd. Dave looked disconcerted, almost disheveled. Before Be-fore he could say a word, Cecil Dodd crossed debonairely to Lim-py's Lim-py's chair, smiling, and said, "Hello, Limpy! I brought you a present! " Aunt Olympia's backbone stiffened starchily. "A present for me, Cece? How nice!" said Limpy. "Limpy's too young to be receiving receiv-ing presents," interrupted Aunt Olympia. "She's not of age yet." "She's not too young to be receiving receiv-ing this," said Cecil Dodd. "This is a political present. Any Slopshire-for-Senator fan can receive political presents. Look, Limpy. It's a little Slopshire pin. I had it made to order." "Let me see that pin!" said Olympia Olym-pia angrily. "What does it say on there? That doesn't look like Vote-for-Slopshire to me!" "Oh, there wasn't room for all that!" explained Cecil Dodd. "I had to cut it down to Slopshire, or it "Was it your map, Helen?" wouldn't go on. And I didn't think enamel would look good on platinum, plati-num, so I just had it engraved." "Look at this, Del," said Olympia. Olym-pia. "If those are diamonds around the edge of it, Limpy can't have it till I pry them out." "Aw, Uncle Lancy!" wailed Lim- py- The Senator put on his glasses. "They don't look like diamonds to me," he said firmly. "They're brilliants," said Cecil hastily. "Certainly," said the Senator. "I could see that. And if they are diamonds, they're only chip diamonds. dia-monds. Cece says they're brilliants." bril-liants." "Well, what's a diamond but a brilliant?" bril-liant?" demanded Aunt Olympia. "Rhinestones are brilliants," said Adele helpfully. "Sure! Brilliant rhinestones!" corroborated cor-roborated Cecil Dodd. "Del Slopshire " "Uncle Lancy!" from Limpy. "I feel very much honored to have little Limpy flashing through the campaign in a Slopshire pin,'.' said the Senator determinedly. "Sure! Let me pin it on your shoulder, Limpy!" Before the rapt eyes of the rest of the family, the outraged ones of Aunt Olympia, with Limpy smiling pleased approval, Cecil Dodd deftly attached the tiny pin to the shoulder shoul-der of her frock and smiled down into her face. "Lord, it's been lonesome," he said devoutly. "I thought we'd never nev-er get back." "Lonesome!" boomed Aunt Olympia Olym-pia irritably. "Lonesome in the thick of a political campaign? Lonesome Lone-some while the Senator is being accused ac-cused of high treason and likely to be knifed at the polls if not strung from a gibbet? Of all times and places to be lonesome, that beats anything I ever heard!" "I hope you didn't have a good time while I was gone," said Cecil. Limpy was slightly disconcerted. "A good time? Oh I can't remember remem-ber exactly what we did ... I know we had a lot of trouble . . . No, we didn't have a good time at all, Cece." "Put him to work," said Olympia. waving the Senator to take him away. "And if he's got money to go around buying platinum pins and brilliants we can cut down on our expen" -"ducing his salary." The Senator had no trouble taking tak-ing care of the spy challenge. There was no one, either Democrat or Republican, Re-publican, who could seriously push the charge, for Gabriel d'Allotti had been received everywhere. The Senator Sen-ator did not stop with citing his record, rec-ord, virtually from the cradle to the trailer of '38, with documentary evidence evi-dence to support his claims. He went further. He demanded a complete, com-plete, Inquisitorial investigation of the entire case, and wrote the Department De-partment of Justice offering himself to be a witness, along with every other member of his household from Hilda up. The Opposition was obliged to drop the issue, but their fingers were already al-ready slightly burned. As for Helen, Hel-en, there was no more pleasure in the campaign for her. She had become be-come terrified of the whole business. She wrote frantically to Brick imploring im-ploring him to withdraw from the rotten mess before it was too late. And she was not greatly reassured by his loyal declaration that she had nothing to fear: they didn't play politics that way in Iowa. The campaign was spoiled for Adele, too. She wrote Len Hardesty Har-desty a brief note. "I can't see you or speak to you again, Len, until it is all over. I try not to think of you, but that is too hard. When it is over, if you feel the same, we will try to talk it through and see where we stand. But I simply can't see you. I couldn't draw a free breath in your presence until Uncle Lancy has either ei-ther won or been defeated." Aunt Olympia remonstrated with her, reminding her that this was Len' s job and he had to do the best he could; reminded her, too, that his contract with the Governor would be up this year, and the Senator could use him in '44. Adele was gently obdurate. Len wrote to her and she read the letters again and again, and kept them, but she made no answer. When he saw any member of the household, or when he called over the telephone to get news of them, he had one invariable message for Adele: "Tell her it's nearly over, and i feel the same." When the message was passed on to Adele, tears came to her eyes and she got up and left fee room. But she did not weaken. Aunt Olympia was none too happy, hap-py, either. . She couldn't turn her usual robust enthusiasm into the campaign because she had to watch Limpy; rather, she had to watch Cecil Dodd. It seemed to her as a simple act of loyalty he might have postponed his admiration until after the election. She even suspected, bitterly, that he was working for the Opposition; it would be like Len Hardesty to bribe him to do this just to get her mind off the campaign. cam-paign. "Do you like that creature, Limpy?" Lim-py?" she asked hopefully. "Oh, sure, I like him. He's all right. Yes, I like him." "I mean, do you like him better than anybody else?" persisted Aunt Olympia. "Oh, no, of course not! I like Helen Hel-en and Adele and you and Uncle Lancy best; and I like our grocery man back home and I'll like Len Hardesty again as soon as Adele gets over being mad at him. I like Dave and Martin and Hilda and I don't really mind Brother Wilkie, though I don't care much for the brats." The girls teased Limpy, who, after aft-er the first flush of confusion, rather enjoyed it. "I can't understand why you should be surprised," she said loftily. lofti-ly. "I had admirers at home, didn't I? Who got Carl Walker to sing in the choir best tenor we ever had? You'd think I was some beldame hobbling around on a tin trumpet." When Aunt Olympia couldn't stand it another minute she asked the girls confidentially to drop the subject. sub-ject. "For Limpy's own good," she assured them. "I don't want her to get her mind set on him." "She's used to being teased," the girls told her. "We all are. Teasing doesn't mean a thing to us." "But if we keep dangling him before be-fore her eyes she may get to thinking think-ing of him," pleaded Aunt Olympia. "Besides, it upsets me. If we don't get rid of that button I'm apt to go straight to the polls and vote' for Brother Wilkie." The girls considerately dropped the subject. But there was no dropping drop-ping Cecil Dodd. As the campaign grew hotter, it was inevitable that he should be with them almost constantly. con-stantly. And even when Aunt Olympia Olym-pia did connive to send him off on quite distant missions, he returned so soon with favorable reports of his activities that Aunt Olympia swore he had just hidden behind a tree for five or ten minutes. During September there was a succession of deluging rains, but the campaign bad to go on. She bought raincoats with matching umbrellas and galoshes for the girls and made them drink hot lemonade every night. Even in raincoats, they photographed pho-tographed well. She bought aspirin for the Senator who believed in it by the dozen boxes. When at last it appeared that the sun was to shine again they took the trail back to Shires, to get their clothes and bedding thoroughly dried out and laundered. "There's no place like home to dry out," she remarked contentedly. "Did you say dry out or dry up?" asked Limpy. Aunt Olympia laughed good-naturedly. "No hope of drying up till the election," she said. "We're lucky even to get dried out." (TO BE COXT1WED) |