THERESAS
ALWAYS ,
ANOTHER.
YEAR.
MARTHA
« OSTtNSO
Iw.NU.SCK.VICC _cortrioh.
CHAPTER XIII—Continued
—13-'
In the parched air, Sliver felt
strangely cold. “Nothing made me
change my mind, Corinne," she said
haltingly. “I—I Just couldn’t go
through with It.”
Corinne sank down upon the bed.
“Oh—what’s the use!" she sobbed.
“I’ve done my best—but you’re all
against me—because you all hate
me!"
Silver looked at her half in sym
pathy and half in anger.
“Don’t be such a fool," she said,
then stepped to the edge of the bed
and laid a hand gently on Corinne's
shoulder. “Does Roddy’s affection
mean nothing to you?"
"Affection !” Corinne cried. “Don't
talk to me about affection. What
can you know about it? I’m losing
my mind in this hell—and you talk
to me about affection. Leave me
alone! Go away!”
And Silver, thinking of Sophronla,
went without a word out of the
room.
CHAPTER XIV
IN LESS than two days, the Invad
ing army of locusts had been al
imost completely destroyed and the
(hot, brooding air was full of an awe
some peace. But It was the peace
of death. The Willards’ huge corn
field had been converted into a
shambles of maimed and ugly stalks.
On the following Friday evening,
Jason and Paula drove down in time
| to have dinner with the old folks.
Sophronla, feeling more like herself
now, determined to make their visit
an occasion for bringing the family
together.
“We’ll celebrate!” she announced.
“There’s been enough grief around
here the past two weeks, Lord
knows! What with me dyiu’ and
the crops burnin’ up and the hop
pers eatin’ what’s left, there hasn’t
been much celebratin’ in this place.
I’ll ask Roddy and Corinne to come
down for supper and bring old
Steve along.”
When they were ready to sit
down, Sophronla went to the win
dow and looked out.
“There they are now,” she said.
“We’ll get the things on the table,
Silver.” She hesitated and thrust
her face closer to the window.
“Where’s Corinne, I wonder? She
isn’t with Roddy and Steve.”
“Probably putting on her best
dress for the occasion," old Rod
erick suggested.
In a moment Roddy stepped Into
the house and greeted Jason and
Paula.
“What’s keepin’ Corinne?” So
phronla inquired. "Supper’s ready
to go on."
Roddy frowned. “She's not com
ing," he said.
Sophronia folded her hands In her
apron. “She's not cornin’? What’s
the matter, then?”
“She was ready to come down
with me when she told me that she
would have to leave Immediately
after supper to go over to Harry
Richter’s place. I told her It might
be a good Idea if she moved her
things over there—and she went off
Into one of her tantrums. I can’t
do anything about It."
“Well—let’s sit In, then,” Sophro
nia ordered.
They took their places at once
and Sophronia forbade any talk of
the plague or the hard times that
loomed ahead.
“We might give our Ideas of whal
kind of a grandfather we’re going to
make out of pa," Jason suggested,
with a wink at Paula.
“He’ll be pretty green at It for a
while," Itoddy laughed.
"I might have had a little prac
tice, my lad," old Roderick retort
ed, “if you’d done your duty.”
Silver glanced at Roddy and
caught the look of embarrassment
that darkened his face as the others
laughed.
“Hold your tongues, now—all of
you!’’ Sophronia spoke up. She
turned to Silver. “I clean forgot
the Jar of pickles I set out. I wish
you’d bring them In. I’m fair run
off my feet.”
Silver was grateful for the oppor
tunity to leave the table.
“How are those young Herefords
standing the hot weather, Jase?"
Roddy asked.
And so the talk turned easily to
the small concerns of the farm.
On the following morning Sliver
went to the Michener farm to spend
the day with Freda. She left be
fore anyone In the stone house had
heard of what had happened in
Gerald Lucas’ “back room’’ the night
before.
But when she stopped for a mo
ment in Heron River to buy some
peppermints for old Grandma Mich
ener, Haber’s store was buzzing
with the news. Dave Erickson, who
was In the store at the time, drew
Sliver aside.
"This Lucas used to be a friend
of yours, didn’t he?” he asked with
some embarrassment.
“Yes,” Silver replied. "What has
happened, Dave?”
Dave tilted ills hat and scratched
his blond head. "Well, it might have
been w'orse. of course. Two fellows
from Minneapolis got Into a poker
game over at the club last night.
There was a row and one of them
pulled a gun and plugged the other
one. lie didn’t do much damage, I
understand, but the news has leaked
out and the cops will be on Lucas’
neck before night. Mr. Lucas will
have to get out—and fast—or he’ll
be taken in before he’s unother day
older.”
As thougli she had been there
Silver swiftly reconstructed the
scene. Gerald could afford no such
publicity, no investigation. He
would have to get out Immediately.
“I see,” she said absently.
But she had become quite uncon
scious of Dave's elaboration of the
episode. One thought occupied her
mind. With Gerald safely out of
the way, there would still be a
chance of Corinne’s becoming recon
ciled to her life with Roddy. It wras
all working out for the best, of
course. And next week Silver
would be leaving to take the posi
tion that was open to her In Chi
A New and Sinister Stillness.
cago. Sophronia had been curious
ly resigned last night when Silver
had told her of her decision to go
away.
“I think I understand, child,” she
had said. In a voice that was all
sadness. And it was Silver who had
cried.
By mldafternoon the sky was a
sullen, gray-white glare of heat, and
the leaves of the Mlcheners’ shade
trees drooped like flakes of lead.
•‘It’s goln’ to storm!” Grandma
MIchener predicted.
Silver w’as preparing to leave for
home when Phil Mlchene- came
back from Maynard. The Incident
at the Emerald Bay club had been
the talk of the town during the
day.
“Strikes me,” Phil added, “Rod
dy ought to keep that pretty wife
of his away from such places—
though that's his business, not
mine.”
“Corlnne wasn’t over there last
night?” Silver put In.
“She was there with the Rich
ters," Phil told her.
Silver bade a hurried farewell
and started for home. As she
spurred Rusty over the short-cut
and through the fields, she f^und
herself shivering with some name
less apprehensiveness that had no
connection with the approaching
storm. Here and there alongside the
grassy, almost unused road, the
cottonwood leaves rustled fitfully.
There was no one In the yard
as she approached Roddy’s house.
Roddy and Steve. Silver knew, were
cutting hay in the south field, al
most a mile away. The whirr of
the mower cam * faintly on the
dead stillness of the later after
noon.
In the driveway, before the door
of the Mg house, stood Roddy’s
car. As Silver passed It, she glanced
Into it and saw a large black suit
case lying across the seat. Could
Corlnne possibly be planning to go
somewhere with the storm coming
on?
She flung open the kitchen door
and almost collided with Corlnne
—hatted and gloved, and wearing
a tailored dark silk dress suitable
for traveling. In one hand she car
ried a small leather case and her
purse. Under her other arm snug
gled Uacbeth, her red Pomeranian,
'lnese details Silver took In with
alarmed comprehension.
"Where In the world are you go
ing. Corlnne?” she asked. “Don’t
you see there’s a storm coming
up?”
Corlnne laughed nonchalantly,
although her eyes flamed In reck
less defiance, “I haven’t time to tell
you,” she replied. "I have to hur
ry. . . . What are you doing? Let
me go!”
"For God’s sak», Corlnne!” Silver
panted. “Have you lost your senses
completely?”
"Take your hands off me!” Cor
lnne burst out. She had gone white
with fury as she struggled to re
lease herself.
Silver dropped Corlnne’s arms
and stepped back from her, aghast
and bewildered. "Are you going
away with Gerald Lucas?” she de
manded.
“How dure you Interfere with
me?” Corlnne stammered, with
something of her old Imperious
manner, which was to Silver mere
ly pathetic now. "You must be
crazy—”
“It's you who are crazy,” Silver
Interrupted coldly.
Corlnne seemed to regain control
of herself. "Think what you like,”
she said In a calmer tone. “I have
never cared much about what you
think of me, anyhow.” She pushed
back her sleeve with a trembling
hand and glanced at her watch.
"All I want now it to get away.
That’s all I’ve wanted from the first
day I came here. I’ve left a note
telling Itoddy he can find the car In
front of Haber’s store. Let me pass,
please 1”
Silver did not move from her
place before the door. “I can't let
you go—like this.”
. "Have your own way, then,” Cor
lnne told her. “I’ll go out by the
front door.”
Silver burst suddenly Into tears
and clung to Corlnne.
“Corrie—I Implore you ! Don’t do
this to yourself! I know what life
with Gerald will be. I've seen
enough of It—I’ve been through It.
Your life will be ruined. Corlnne.
darling—please — please—please—1
won't let you go!”
Silver caught her arm, but Co
rlnne. with a sharp little Jerk of
her body, disengaged herself. Her
small, piquant face was frozen with
determination.
“I tell you—I don’t care!” she
cried desperately. Her head was
proud and high. “I can’t let him
go away alone. I realized that last
night when he told me he would
have to leave. I love him—nnd he
loves me.” For an appalling moment
her face became almost shrewish. “If
I don’t like the way Gerald lives,
perhaps I can make something
worth while out of him—and I
couldn’t do that for Koddy Willard 1”
Before Silver could reach her, Co
rlnne had darted Into the front
room and out of the door. Silver
ran after her sobbing, pleading,
clutching at her in despair, but Co
rlnne, In stony, inexorable silence,
climbed Into the car and drove off.
Silver looked wildly after her,
and stood for a moment with her
hand pressed frantically against her
mouth. She was vaguely aware
that It had grown much darker, that
the earth seemed enclosed in an
airless, suffocating sphere. Then she
stamped her foot and brushed the
tears Impatiently from her eyes.
“Go. then—you d—n little Idiot!”
she said aloud as she saw the car
pass through the gateway and gath
er speed In the open road.
Suddenly there camq, Into her
mind the clamoring necessity of
finding Roddy. The distance to the
hayfleld seemed Immeasurable as
she went running, stumbling, plung
Ing to no avail again and again over
the entangling meshes of grass,
over the familiar and the treacher
ous ruts of a fallow field which was
wavering strangely now wltd livid
patches of shadow. She paused
and glanced over her shoulder to
reassure herself that she had come
at least half way, when there came
a sound that was a shrill, demon
iacal whine, followed by a roar that
stunned all thought
Then rain came.
The rain, the rain, tho blessed
rain! Silver threw her arms wide
and laughed in sheer pagan Joy as
the rich, drowning flood of It de
scended upon her. It washed sway
all drouth and hunger and defeat;
It washed all error from the human
heart and wrong thinking from the
human mind.
The rain ceased ns suddenly as It
had begun. Presently, from the di
rection of the Willard hill. Silver
saw a dark shape plunging toward
her. It was Roddy.
W hat the devil are you doing out
here?” he demanded ns he came
within speaking distance.
I started out to find you—when
the rain came,” she replied halt
ingly.
"We hit for the house when we
saw it coming," he said.
“You’ve been home—you’ve found
Corinne's letter?” she asked.
“I found It," lie replied In a
clipped tone.
“1 tried to stop her, Roddy. 1
fought with her—but I couldn’t do
anything. Then I-ran—to get you—
so that you could go after her—be
fore it was too late."
Roddy smiled bitterly. "H_1.
they’ve gone to Mexico!” he said!
“That’s too far away for me."
’’You’re going to let her go?"
"It Isn’t as bad as It looks, kid."
he said slowly. “Corlnne really
left me—months ago. Rut—come
along. Steve is out looking for you,
and I’hronie Is having fits because
you’re not In the house."
He put his arm about her gently
and they walked In silence toward
the house. To the eustward, light
ning strode across the sky. and all
about them the air qunked with
thunder.
“Don’t you think too much about
this, Silver,” Roddy said steadily
as they went across the field. “I’m
giving Corlnne a chance to live the
life she wants to live. I’ve known
what she wanted—but I’ve never
been able to give it to her. I wns
a d—d fool, I guess. But there’s
something I want to tell you—Co
rinne is really In love with Lucas.
I have suspected it all along, but
when she came home last night—
there was something about her—a
sort of glory In her face that I’ve
never seen before. I asked her
about Lucas and she told me she
loved him. There-wasn’t anything
1 could do about it, kid. I told her
she could go whoft she felt like It.”
Silver’s heart beat so rapidly that
she could make no reply. They
made their way across the field un
til they came parallel with Roddy’s
experimental tract of corn. The sky
was lWting now as though the lid
were being raised from a casket
of glowing Jewels. Green and gold
and blue, in a cleansed and hal
lowed world—it cast over the heart
a spell of awe and winder.
Silver, her eyes upon the field,
thought of Corlnne. “How could
she go away from this Roddy—and
take a chance on the life—”
Roddy smiled down at her. "Life's
a gamble—wherever you live It,
Silver,” he said. "It’s when you
live It with someone you love that
makes the difference.”
He took her shoulders In his
hands, and turned her about and
looked through almost a year of
frustration, despair and defeat—
Into the serenity of Silver’s eyes.
And across his shoulder. Sliver
saw a rainbow above the land.
[THE END.]
“Dont miss
STORM MUSIC’
Says New York Review
“ABOUT BOOKS AMD AUTHORS”
Domford Yates’ new serial novel, which be
gins next week in this newspaper, is adven
ture and romance carried to the fastest, most
thrilling degree.
When young John Spencer goes out for a
stroll in an Austrian forest and hears English
voices, he investigates and finds murder has
been done. Unfortunately he makes himself
known to the assassins by dropping a letter
with his name and address upon it. He soon
finds himself mixed up with a band of cut
throat pirates, a fortune in gold, a feudal
castle full of hidden rooms ana passages, and
a beautiful countess.
The rest is lightning adventure that will keep
you hanging onto your peace of mind 1
"Storm Music”
BY DORNFORD YATES
Begins next week in this newspaper!
BRISBANE^
THIS WEEK
Paging Japan
Black Cold Best for War
The Mighty Airplane
Two Kinds of Treasure
When the Japanese plan to ab
sorb a section of northern China
Arthur Ilrtahnne
witn population
of 9.^.000.000
seemed to bare
been abandoned,
chaos broke
loose In north
ern China. In
dustrious ban
dits. without
fear of Japan's
efficiency, began
looting stores
and Chinese
merchants
begged Japan to
restore order.
Eleven Japanese
divisions quur
tered outside tne ureat wan are
ready to move In, and Japan will
hardly hHve the heart to stay out
under such circumstances. I.nter
Japan will not have the heart to
stay out of the Philippines. Jap
anese confidence In the sun goddess
seems justified. The drift Is Ja
pan’s way, with westerners busy
planning to kill each other.
There are, California tells you,
several kinds of gold: yellow gold
that took crowds to California In
1841); another yellow gold that
grows on orange, lemon and grape
fruit trees; the white gold water
power rolling from the mountains,
to produce blnck gold, power and
fertility, und the oil In the ground.
Mussolini's determination to keep
oil flowing Into Italy, even at a risk
of European war, shows that oil
Is more Important In war now than
yellow gold. It moves great tnnka,
keeps the planes In the air; It
means motion, and successful mo
tion means victory.
Mighty is the airplane In north
ern Brazil, where the “elbow" sticks
out into the Atlantic. Soldiers said
by the Associated Press to be guid
ed by Communists decided to run
the government -and make It better.
They locked up their officers and
were just stnrting the new "better"
government when official airplanes
came along with bombs.
“Bang" went one or two bombs,
aerial machine guns said “rat-tnt
tat" a few times.
The revolutionary soldiers said,
"That will do,’’ and scattered In the
Interior. It Is hard to "rise and
throw off your chains" while cap
italism is dropping bombs.
In Jacksonville, Fla., gentlemen
fitting out an expedition to hunt for
pirate treasure think they know
where the gold Is. They may find
It; probably will not.
Other gentlemen are figuring out
similar treasure expeditions in Wall
street, regardless of what ha|>
pened when they did that In 1929.
Men hunting pirate treasure and
Wall street treasure will have
plenty of excitement, and that prob
ably is well worth the effort. “A
dull life is no life."
The great Jonker diamond, big
gest uncut stone on earth, is to
be cut Into smaller pieces, since
no one rich enough to buy It now
would wear so big a diamond.
It might have been sold to a
Russian czar, Turkish sultan or
Ethiopian emperor for use In a
crown, "to increase majesty.” But
czars apd sultans have vanished,
Ethiopia’., ruler is short of cash.
The big diamond will be cut
into small pieces and sell for about
$1,500,000. The largest “piece" will
weigh 100 carats, the rest from 10
to 50 carats. Interesting opportu
nity for deserving Hollywood stars.
John 8. Clemiengo, sixteen, sen
tenced to die next January In the
electric chair, helped George H.
Hildebrand, twenty-six, to rob and
murder an old poultry farmer.
Sixteen seems rather young for
an electric chair candidate, but
the judge and jury felt that by
disposing of the young murderer
now they would avoid robberies
and murders In the future. Recent
history of youthful criminal makes
that probable.
"Foreign observers" In Ethiopia
believe that Ethiopia .s fighting a
lost cause; also that, as the num
ber of wounded Increases and the
case looks more and more hopeless,
there might be a genera) massacre
of whites. If this should happen
the “50 to 1" gentlemen of the
League of Nations would have
themselves to blame.
The “sanctions" and boycott will
not prevent Ituly defeating Ethi
opia. but they do make the Ethl
oplan ruler over-confident, persund
Ing hlin to sacrifice lives unneces
sarily.
Bishops of England’s Anglican
church, the urchblshop of Canter
bury, leading, denounce Chancellor
Hitler's persecution of German
Jews, as they well may, and they
hope that Christians in Great Brit
ain and elsewhere will “exert their
nfluence."
Cl Kmc Keatuies Syndicate, iuo.
WNU Servlca.
Here’s Chic Frock That
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Four easy pieces are Its sum total
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Send FIFTEEN CENTS In coins
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Oldest Fortification in
the Western Hemisphere
Cuba’s Castillo de la Fuerza (the
Castle of the Armed Forces) is be
lieved to be the oldest fortification
In the Western hemisphere. It
stands at the foot of O’Reilly street
in the oldest pnrt of Havana. It was
begun In 1538, thereby antedating
Morro castle by about 50 years.
The history of La Fuerza goes
back to the time of Hernando de
Soto. It was there that Dona Isabel
de Bobadllln, De Soto’s wife, threw
herself Into the sea upon learning of
her husband's death and his burial In
the Mississippi river.
Fault Finding Is Habit
Fathered by Jealousy
What a gift some people have of
finding fault. Praise anything, no
matter what, and they will Imme
diately confront you with a “but” It
really seems to hurt them when you
take pleasure In admiring anything
and so they hasten to take you down
a peg. It Is a petulant habit arising
from envy or Jealousy.
Let us look well to ourselves, lest
we help to swell the list of these un
'inppy fault-finders.
A Horrible Example
The Customer—Isn’t It rather un
usual to see a barber with long hair
and whiskers like yours?
The Barber—Yes; but It’s good
business. Every man that sees how
awful they look on me will fall for
a haircut and shave.
■ Wft.l6LEY'S 1
■ IS COOLIW6 1
Ito the taste ! I
PEOPLE FEAR THE
THINGS THEY DO
NOT UNDERSTAND
The beautiful voice of a famous
opera singer Issuing forth In song
caused a panic on board a ship!
Seriously—that Is the content of a
news dispatch from off the coast of
Australia where an American ship
carrying explorers was recently an
chored. The voice of the singer came
through a gramophone, and the
audience among whom It caused a
panic was composed of natives, who
ran In terror from something that
they did not understand.
It may seem Incomprehensible to
us that a beautiful voice should In
still dislike or fear. Whatever the
language of the song, you may say. Is
not beautiful singing beautiful to all
who can hear—as the trilling of a
bird most sound the same to men of
any color and any language?
But the beauty of the voice Is
obscured by the fact that Its source
is something the natives do not un
derstand. For that reason It Is an
object of suspicion—and of fear.
If we stop to think about It, It will
surprise many of us to realize how
much we have In common with those
Australian natives In that we fre
quently refuse to see beauty In the
things we do not understand. We
too are suspicious and fearful of
things we do not know. Most of the
world’s bigotry and prejudice springs
from Ignorance. And many of us, if
we but realized it, create a spectacle
no less foolish and unreasonable than
those natives In panic over a beauti
ful voice Issuing from a gramophone
when we condemn without Investiga
tion, when we turn without considera
tion from things which are new, things
which are different, ways to which
we are not accustomed.
e Bell Syndicate —WNU Servlc*.
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