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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Feb. 13, 1930)
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Next time a hearty meal, or too rich a diet has brought ou the least dia comfort, try— of Magnesia t THE MASTER MAN BY RUBY M AYRES Author of •‘The Phantom Lover," "The Girt Next Door." ate. 1 “But I thought;’’ Michael be gan, then stopped. “She’ll be home this evening, of course?” be added aft r a moment. “No, sir.” The g.rl shook her head rather sadly. “Miss Rolf said good-bye to us all, sir, ami took all her luggage; she said she was not. coming back to Clayton any more, sir,” “Not coming back any more!” There was utter incre dulity in Michael Rolf’s face and voice. 11c stared at the giri blankly for a moment; then he laughed. “Oh, but that's absurd!” he said. “There must be some mis take! Why—why, she hasn’t anywhere in the world to go.” The words escaped him be fore he was aware of it, and she hastened to retract tuem. “Of course she has friends— many friends, but—oh, There must be some mistake,” he said again, impatiently. The girl shook her head. She did not think there was any mistake; she knew Patricia very well in some ways, and she could understand the impulse that had prompted this flight. “If you were to see her room, sir, you’d know that she didn’t mean to come back,” she said impulsively. “It’s all upset— she's taken everything that was hers—all the tilings Mr. Rolf gave her. ‘They’re mine, at least,’ she said, when I asked if I was to pack them.” Michael turned his heel and went into the dining room. Where in the world could she have gone? he was asking in anger. It was like her to further embarrass him. She probably knew how lie would feel about it. Had she gone to friends? lie doubted it. From what lie knew of Patricia she was not the girl to risk another snubbing such as she had received from Effie Shackle ; and yet—how was it possible for her to live alone? What money had she? Very little, he was sure. The maid followed him into the room. “Can I get you some lunch, sir. she asked diffidently. “No—no, thanks, I don’t want any.” Michael swung round from the window. “How long is it since Miss Kolf left the house?” “She went to London by the ten o’clock train, sir.” He must have passed her on the way. Why the dickens had n't he come straight here in stead of calling to see Philips? He ought to have guessed that she had some such mad-brained scheme in her head. Of course it was all doue to annoy him. “Who drove her to the sta tion?” he asked. “Did she have the car? Which of the men drove her?” “Miss Rolf hired a cab from the village,” the git'l told him hesitatingly. “1 ordered the car, but she refused to use it.” There was a touch of anxiety in her voice. “I hope Miss Kolf is all right, sir,” she added tim idly. “All right! Of course she's all right,” Michael answered. “She'll come back in a day or two. Of course, she’s all right.” “Miss Rolf said she should never come back,” the girl in sisted. Michael laughed. “She will,” he said. He went out again and drove away. He was at his wits’ end. what to do or where ta> look for Patricia. He fully realized how difficult it would be to trace her once she had got to Lon don. He drove to the station and asked a few questions of a por ter there who knew Patricia. Yes. it was quite true that Miss R<df had gone up that morning by the ten train, the man said; true, too, that sh* had had a r t lo* of luggage. The porter looked at Michael interestedly. “Nothing wrong, I hope, sir?” he ventured. “No— nothing.” Michael drove to London. He went straight to Mr. Philips and told him the news. “She’s done this to annoy me,” he said, pacing up and down with agitated strides. “Women arc* flic* very devil. Philips. And what in the world am 1 to do, I should like to know?” Mr . Philips regarded him quizzically. “That depends what you Want to do,” he said, quietly. “What I want to do!” Mich ael echoed. “Well, I want to find her, of course. A nice thing for a girl like that to be roaming about the world alone! What do you suppose people will say? What do you suppose they will think of me?” There was a little silence. Mr. Philips was tracing an in tricate pattern on his blotter.' “It should not be a very dif ficult task to find Miss Rolf,” lie said after a moment. “She is the kind of a .girl whom people would notice, and you say she has a quantity of lug gage?” “Stacks of it, I should think,” Michael said dryly, with a sudden cynical memory of the wonderful toilets which Patricia had worn on the house boat for the enchantment of his friend. And at the thought of Ches ney a deeper frown came to his brows. After all. it would hav? been as well if she had married him, and so settled her future onee and for all. He had done no good by interfering; he had got no thanks either from Patricia or from Ohesney. “How do t start to find her, for heaven’s sake?” lie de manded, irascibly. “It’s like looking for a needle in a blin dly of hay to search for any one in London.” “If you will leave it to me—” Mr. Philips began He was rather entertained by his client’s agitation. Privately he considered that Patricia had behaved rather cleverly if she wished to attract Michael Rolf’s impartial attention. He was old-fashioned enough to still believe that the way to capture a man is to evade him. “They might do worse—botli of them,” he thought as he looked at Michael’s wrathful face. “And they’d make a handsome couple.” If you will leave it to me—” he said again. Michael cut in brusquely. “But there’s no time to b* lost if we’re going to find her. It's hours now since she left (’lavton. She may have got out of the country for all we know.” “I hardly think it likely,” said Mr. Philips, smoothly. “You will probably find that she is with friends. ...” Michael laughed ruefully. “She won't find she has many friends now she’s lost her money,” he said. It’s the same all the world over. . . .” But he agreed to leave it in Mr. Philips’ hands, knowing all the time that he should do no thing of the sort, and as soon as he got out of the office he be gan evolving schemes in his own mind for means of finding Patricia. As he drove slowly hack to his rooms lie found himself staring at every woman he passed. Once he chased a taxi cab for a couple of miles be cause it was piled with lug gage, and because he bad caught a glimpse of a girl at the window who faintly re sembled Patricia. Finally, he gave up in disgust and took the ear to the garage. He felt horribly helpless and Iowa’s Dairy Income. From Official Bulletin. Iowa is exceeded only by Wiscon sin and Minnesota in dairy produc tion. Although we pride ourselves on the supremacy of the Iowa steer, both In the quality and quan’ity put on the market, he fell a few million dollars short of returning to the farmer in 1928 as much as the little dairy ccw with her six and or.e-'hird billion pounds o.' milk, yC per cenf of which leaves the farm in one form or another. Therefore, as an agricultural In dustry, dairyings $120,000,000 con tribution to our farm income stands #eco«4 sale of hog* being first with a total value of close to $262 - 000000. No one underestimates the value to the trade of the $100,000,000 that our manufacturing plants pay out in wages each year, mos ly in our larger cities. Neither snould we ov erlook the value to all our cities, large or small, of the almost daily distribution of the cream and milk check to the value of $120,000,000. There is no insurance that a farmer can take out to tide him over the vicissitudes that are inher ent to farming like a good herd large or small—o!' dairy cows, as was well demonstrated during the years following the deflation of our farm values in 1921. Their value to beaten. He wished he could I take Mr. Philips’ philosophical | view and tell himself that Pa tricia would be all right, but : this be could no do. He could ; only think of her as lie had found her crying in the garden yesterday morning; only re member her with that air of unexpected helplessness. After all, she was young, and ft girl. If she had been his own sister he could not have been more worried. He hated the thought of her being alone in London. He ate a hasty meal and started out again on a fresh search. Not that lie actually had any hope of success, but it was something to do, and it was oftpn the unexpected that hap pened. One frequently read in books and newspapers of ex traordinary meetings, and strange coincidences. Hut at eleven o’clock he was back in his rooms, tired and irritable. VV lien lie found ratncia he would tell her exactly what he thought of her behavior. She was utterly selfish and indif ferent to the anxiety of other people. He hoped something would happen to pay her out for all the worry she had caused him. He opened the door of his sitting-room, then stood still with a smothered exclamation as Bernard Chesnev rose from a chair and caine forward. “You!” said michael blankly. “Good heavens! Why, 1 thought you’d gone to the States!” ' Chesney flushed uncomfort ably. “I changed my mind.” He paused. “I’ve been waiting for you since eight,” lie added with a touch of irritation. Michael laughed; he knew by instinct why Chesney had not left England, and why he was here now. “Well, 1 don’t know where she is,” he said. The two men looked hard at one another. “1 don’t know where she is,” Michael said again. “If you’ve come to ask me about Patricia—and I suppose you have?” “Yes.” Chesney fidgeted with his oigaret case. “I’ve come to the conclusion that T behaved badly to her,” he said after a moment, with disarm ing frankness. “After all, well, dash it, it was your fault, you know—” “You mean that if 1 hadn’t, interfered you would have married her?” “Yes.” “Humph! Well, then I’m glad I did interfer. You’d never have made her happy— you’re not suited to her. . . .” “A week ago your argument was that she would never make tj'.p happy, and she wasn’t suited to me!” Chesney said indignantly. Michael made an impatient gesture. “Well, it’s all the same, isn’t it?” he asked. Chesney was not so sure; he looked at his friend with a faint suspicion. “What do you mean? That you don’t knew where she is? he asked. “She’s down at Clay ton, 1 suppose—isn’t she? “She was—yesterday morn in". I saw her there—but she left to-day, and nobody seems! to know where she’s gone.” Chesney was flushed and agitated; he had had a miser able time since he h"d sent that letter to Patricia, lie loved here sincerely, and a thousand times he had cursed himself for having ever listened to Michael. What did it matter if she married him only for his money so long as she did marry him? In his infatuation he be lieved that lie could be happy with Patricia in any circum stances. “If you’re trying to bluff me.” he broke out angrily. Michael shrugged his shoul ders. “Mv dear chap, T’m noC Patricia has gone away—some where! And I’m trying to find out where. It’s no use looking so furious After all, I’m n»t her keeper” “Yuo thought you were | the sta*e Is two-fold as they carrv I both the farmer and the retail merchant of our towns and smaller ; cities over our periods of business depression as well as the slack j months between seasons. What dairying has done and Is doing is not all that can be said for it. even at this time with its unu sual slump in butter and cream prices. With all the advancement I that has been made in our day in 'he handling of cur milk products, from the milking stool, shallow pan and barrel churn to the milk ing machine, hand separator. Bab I cock test, combination churn and mechanical refrigeration, there are yet great opportunities for lessening though—a week ago,” Chesn) answered with a sneer. Michael laughed. “I thought I could manage her. Apparently I cannot; however, when I find her—” “When you find her! Sup posing you never do? 1 call it scandalous. She hasn’t a friend in the world now she's lost her money. If anything has happened to her it will be your fault.” “What the deuce do you meant” Michael looked at his friend writh furious eyes. “I've done my best for her —Philips will tell you. I of fered her money—I offered her the Dower House, or any other place she might prefer.” “You might have known she'd never take it. She al ways was proud.’ “Proud! Well—perhaps . . . where are you going? Hut Chesney had gone, with a slain of the door. Michael stood still for a moment; then lie turned and followed. He caught his friend up at the outer door and called to him: “Don’t be a fool, Chesney; we shall find her all right. I’ve none my best, I give you my word. Wait a minute and I’ll walk along with you.” He ran back for his hat, and a moment later the two men were walking down the road. Chesney was inclined to be sulky still. He really blamed Michael for Patricia’s disap pearance. If only he had gone to see her when she asked him ; if only he nad answered that letter in the way in which his heart longed to answer it, how different things might have been! At the corner of the road he stopped. “Look here,” he said, dog gedly, “I give you fair warning that when 1 find Patricia again —and I shall find her—I shall marry her if she’ll have me, in spite of anything you can say. Goodnight!” He turned, struck out across the road, and was lost in the darkness. Michael turned and began to retrace his steps. “Quixotic young fool!” he said, exasperatedly, under his breath. He walked on quickly; it was nearly midnight, and it was be ginning to rain a little. He had reached the block of buildings in which his rooms were situated, when a girl camp running towards him. He could hear her quick breathing as she came up to him, saw that she faltered a little and looked back hurriedly over her shoul der as if afraid of some one or something that was following her. Then suddenly lie gave a stif led exclamation: “Good heav ens ! Patricia!’’ CHAPTER VI Patricia stifled a scream start ing away from Michael in fear, then all at once she recognized him; she gave a little sobbing laugh and swayed towards him, catching his arm in a con vulsive grip. “Oh, is it you! Oh, I am sc glad—I was so frightened. Oh, you won’t leave me, will you! Oh, I am so glad it’s you!” Her voice was sinking and hysterical; she seemed hardlv to know what she was saying, she kept loking away which she down the road along which she had come; in the light of a street lamp over their heads Mi chael could see how white she was. He drew her hand through his arm, pressing it reassuring iy “Of course, I won’t lea\e you —I’ve been hunting for you all day. Where have you been! What on earth possessed yon to run awaj' like that—Patricia what is the matter?’’ For she had broken down and was crying like a child. Michael was horribly dis tressed. He looked up and down the deserted road for inspira tion. If only one could get a taxi! The rain was falling more heavily now, and Patricia had only a thin coat. (TO B* CONTINUED) the work and lowering the cost oi our milk and its products without increasing the amount now being put on the market, unless the de mand justifies it. When a comparison is made be tween the yearly average milk oi butterfat production of Iowa’s one and one-third million dairy cow.; and the yearly average milk or but terfat production of the 796 dairy cows owned by the state at then 1' state institutions, one begins tc realize the wide spread betweer what we are now doing and what it is possible to do. when our farmers begin to take the interest they should in the breeding and feeding of the cows they milk | A FAMILY j: ! DOCTOR'S LAXATIVE !; > IS BEST i; Your health is too important! You cannot afford to experiment with your delicate bowels when coated tongue, bad breath, headache, gas, nausea, feverishness, lack of appetite, no energy, etc., warn of constipation. 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