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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (April 30, 1936)
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Bryn (James Brynildson III), a
tall bronzed young man of wealth,
and his chum. Tubby Forbes, are
discussing Bryn’s coming marriage.
Tubby believes It a scheme to get
Bryn’s wealth from him. Should the
girl, Deborah, whom Bryn had met
at the office of his attorney, Ted Hol
worthy, marry Stuart Graham before
her twenty-first birthday, she will
Inherit a vast fortune from her
grandfather. Stuart had greatly dis
pleased Deborah, who refuses to
marry him. Bryn, posing as an un
employed engineer, offers to marry
Deborah, as Stuart, for $30,000, they
not to live as man and wife. Twen
ty-three years previous, Anne Lar
ned had eloped with an adventurer
on the day set for her wedding to
Courtney Graham. Two days after
the birth of her daughter, Anne died.
Shortly after, the father died. The
Darneds, grandparents, took the child
with them to Oregon where, without
child companions, Deborah grew up.
To safeguard her from some for
tune hunter, her grandfather had
arranged for her to marry Stuart,
eon of Courtney Graham, when of
age. When Deborah was fifteen, her
grandfather died. Securities had
been set aside to keep the family,
but a market crash left scarcely
enough for them to live on. This was
unknown to Deborah's grandmother,
an invalid, Gary, a servant, manag
ing the finances. At twenty, the
thought of marriage greatly fright
ens Debqrah. It had been planned
that Deborah meet Stuart in Frisco,
where they were to be married.
Tubby and Bryn await Deborah in a
hotel in Frisco. Over a period of one
year the groom is to prove he is no
fortune hunter and can make Deb
orah happy to the satisfaction of her
grandmother. Otherwise, the fortune
is to go to charity. The will is some
what ambiguous as to whom Deb
orah is to marry. The girl arrives
with Holworthy. Tubby is surprised
to find her charming and sweet.
* CHAPTER II—Continued
Deborah was married and at home
again. It was less than a week
since she had gone away from the
mountain, but it seemed a thousand
years. She was so much older,
now. She knew so much more than
she had known a week ago that her
thoughts were like the thoughts of
a stranger; she looked at her old
life and everything that had been
1 In it with a stranger's eyes, clear,
They were at luncheon, she and
Grandmother and the man, seated
at the long table in the middle of
the vast shadowy dining room. The
ceiling was high and supported by
dark heavy oaken beams; at one
end was a great fireplace with a
carved oak mantelpiece and a stone
Deborah sat up and moved the
silver spoon beside her plate. She
looked across at Grandmother.
Grandmother was wearing her gray
satin dress for the first time since
Grandfather’s death. Iler white hair
was pinned more loosely than usual,
and fluffed out softly around her
face. Her eyes were sparkling,
alight, happy. There was pink in
her cheeks, and a thread of it In
her lips. It was as if she had come
to life again, too. An hour ago,
when they had come up the weed
grown drive. Grandmother had been
standing at the side door, dressed
from head to foot in the black she
had worn for so long, with one
hand pressed to her heart in the
old familiar gesture, and a look of
fearful questioning in her eyes. The
man had stopped the big battered
looking motor-car, afid helped Debo
rah out. Grandmother had not looked
at Deborah at all, except for one
quick encompassing glance as if to
make sure that she was still Intact.
Her eyes had gone to the man, and
he had stood tail nnd straight and
smiling that faint steady smile of
his, waiting. The sun had glinted
on his brown hair, and had made
his brown skin look very clear and
wholesome. Grandmother had looked
into his eyes for a long time, a
tense, silent, searching look; and
then she had drawn a deep breath
and put out her hand. She had
smiled back at him, a fluttering re
lieved happy smile, and he had tak
en botli her little white hands •n
his own. Oh, he was living up to
He seemed to understand the sit
uation at a glance and decide what
it was he must do. It wns perfect
acting, and Deborah knew that she
should have been grateful and ap
preciative, hut Instead she was an
gry. Angry because . . . well, be
cause, watching him with Grand
mother, she had realized suddenly
that all the way up from San Fran
cisco he had been acting with her,
too, amusing her, making her laugh,
telling her interesting things, think
ing of her comfort, because it was
part of the bargain. On the trip
she had forgotten the bargain, the
fact that he was going to be paid,
and paid well, as he had expressed
it, for giving their marriage the ap
pearance of a happy one, the ap
pearance of a real marriage be
tween two young people who had
. . . had fallen in love with each
other at first sight.
Well, no matter; even If it was a
little disconcerting to keep remem
bering what the true situation was.
No harm had been done. She had
been reserved through It all, and
had not, she assured herself, al
lowed herself to he anything but
Impersonal with him.
Grandmother was gazing at him
again us if she could scarcely take
her eyes away. It was unfortunate
that he meant so much to her if
Grandmother approved of him too
highly. It might make It difficult,
at the end of the year, to explain
why Deborah would he happier
without him. And Grandmother in
the meantime might think . . . she
might expect . . . Deborah moved
My dear boy,” Grandmother was
saying, “I cannot see that there is
the slightest resemblance between
you and your father. You are so
much taller than lie was, so much
more . . . perhaps I mean athletic
looking. But perhaps I shouldn’t
have expected you to look like the
Grahams. My husband told me
years ago, after he had been East
to see you, that you looked very
much like your mother’s people.
Your mother was a very fine wom
an, my dear Stuart.”
"I always believed so.”
‘‘Of course you did. Although you
would scarcely remember her, I
“Lie doesn't remember her at all,”
Deborah said quickly. “She died
when he was only three, Grand
mother. He couldn’t possibly re
The man looked across the table.
Llis eyes were twinkling, amused.
Deborah looked back at him, coolly.
It wasn’t going to be exactly easy
to carry off this situation. But no
matter how difficult it might be it
was better than marrying Stuart
Graham. There had been very lit
tle dissembling on Stuart Graham's
part, even in Mr. Ilolworthy’s pres
ence. Apparently it hadn’t seemed
necessary to him to pretend gentle
ness and courtesy even for the few
necessary hours. It had been per
fectly obvious that he hadn’t
dreamed for a moment that she
could or would refuse to marry him.
refuse to go through with the hor
rible bargain. When she did sum
mon up her courage, after two
hours of listening to his talk with
Mr. Holworthy, when the words
sprang to her lips and she heard
herself saying in a queer cold little
voice that she could never marry
him no matter what happened, he
had been terrible. He had called
her prudish, ignorant, insane.
Grandmother wouldn’t have be
lieved it, couldn’t have believed it,
if she had been told. It would have
killed her to bring Stuart Graham
here and let her see him as he was.
She and Grandfather had told
themselves for years that in a mis
erably unhappy world one star
would always shine as bright ns the
sun; no matter what -happened, the
Grahams were gentlemen.
Gary had guessed what might
happen. He hadn’t been so sure of
the Grahams after all. Deborah
remembered his words as he had
helped her Into the rickety wagon
down at their neighbor’s farm. He
had tucked the dust-cover around
her and, ills old face worn and trou
bled, had said, “If you don’t like
him, Miss Deborah, don’t you have
anything to do with him. We’ll get
along some way. We'll just look
around for another way.”
This was the other way. The tall
young man at the head of the table,
willing to sell his gentlemanly ap
pearance, his good manners, his
smiles, for a year—for fifty thou
Of course, since one must be fair
and just, be had not been consid
ering his own opportunities there in
Mr. Holworthy’s office, not just at
first. After Deborah had stood up
and told Stunrt In that strange
voice that she couldn't possibly
marry him. after she had repeated
it again and again and made him
see that she meant It. he had been
In a wild rage. It was then that
he had said such horrible things
to her. After a moment Deborah
had run away. Into an outer office,
anywhere to escnpe from Stunrt
Graham. But Stuart had followed
her. Stuart was a bully. He was
still talking to her, pushing him
self directly between her and the
door, hetween her and freedom,
when this quiet young man with
the steady gray eyes had risen from
a chair and faced him. Bryn hadn’t
moved, except that his arm came
straight up. and his fist hit Stunrt
under the chin with a terrific crash,
and Stuart had crumpled to the
“Deborah, my darling, what is the
matter?” Grandmother said sudden
ly. “You are quite pale!”
"Nothing, Grandmother,” Deborah
answered, and managed to smile.
‘‘It's rather a long trip up from
San Francisco when you’re not ac
customed to motoring," the man
"I am sure It must have been try
ing,” Grandmother said, still look
ing at her tenderly. There wns
something new and solicitous In her
expression. ‘‘Now that our greatest
problem Is solved, surely we can
make a real change in our way of
“What do you mean?” Deborah
“Oh, so many things, dear,”
Grandmother leaned forward. “We
must furbish ourselves up, for one
thing. We are becoming quite care
less as to our ways of living. I’ve
been feeling guilty about it for a
long time, but I’ve been so worried
about Deborah that nothing else
seemed of any particular Impor
tance. But now I feel,” she finished
briskly, “that we must have two or
three extra servants at once, have
the grounds put In order, have the
electric plant repaired . . ."
“But—" Deborah said faintly, and
“But what, my darling? Would
you not like to see the house filled
with young company, with music,
with life? To have a host of pretty
“We don’t know anyone to till the
house with," Deborah protested mis
“Stuart does,” Grandmother said
with confidence, “lie told me only
a few moments ago that he had a
great many friends In San Fran
She smiled. “Now, Deborah, of
course we should not ask anyone
for some time, my dear. You and
Stuart must have a month or two
of your own, first. But during that
time the house and grounds can be
taken care of; they have been neg
lected so long It will be quite an
undertaking. Since your grandfa
ther wished that we should spend
a year here nfter your marriage, I
think we must try and make It a
happy year, and in it prepare you
as best we can to mingle in society
when we emerge at last from our
“I never want to go away from
here,” Deborah cried, “never,
“Why, Deborah!" Grandmother
said in surprise. “Stuart, the dear
child is quite overwrought. Of
course you will go away from here,
my dear, you and Stuart. The whole
world is before you. Am I not
right, Stuart? You would not be sat
isfied to spend all your life here?”
He hesitated, but only for a frac
tion of a second. Then, “I’m not at
all sure that I shouldn’t be, if Debo
rah were to be here,” he said.
Deborah Jumped from her chair.
Her eyes flashed. “Was that neces
sary?” she asked him bitterly.
Grandmother stood up too, a
slight small figure In her gray.
“What do you mean?' she asked In
a still cold voice.
“Oh!” Deborah began, and stopped.
“Nothing,” she said slowly. “I am
. . . overwrought, Grandmother. I
think I will go and rest for a little.”
“Of coufse, dear,” she answered,
relieved. “Of course. I understand.
Go along, then . . . and your things
are in the silver rooms in the south
“The silver rooms?” Deborah re
peated. Involuntarily her startled
eyes fell to the man's and gray and
violet clung together. Deborah’s
cheeks began to burn. She looked
"No objections, my dear. The sil
ver rooms were alwuys Intended for
you, but you preferred to be near
me rather than in the south wing
alone. Go along, my darling, and
perhaps after a little I will follow
your example. The excitement and
the happiness have quite tired me
Deborah went across the room
and through the door. She wanted
to stamp and kick and scream. This
must be how a rabbit felt when it
was caught in a snare. She went
on, up the long curving staircase,
down the corridor into the south
wing, through the second door on
the right. Inside was a sitting
room, with walls panelled in sil
ver, with rugs and chairs and cur
tains done in deep violet. There
was a huge four-poster bed against
the inner wall, with a beautiful
violet and tarnlshed-sllver spread
upon It, and a long silver bowl of
violets on a little table at one side.
And, at the foot of the bed, was a
man’s heavy pigskin hag, as yet un
She went across to it and lifted
it with u vicious Jerk. It was
heavy. S|fie went through the bed
room and the sitting room to the
corridof. She put the bag down
with a thump on the floor outside
the door, pulled the sitting room
door shut with a bang and shot the
THERE were high spiked iron
gates at the end of the weed
grown drive. Bryn leaned his shoul
ders against them, took his silver
case out thoughtfully and lit a
There is a moment In every day
among the mountains when after
noon is definitely over and evening
has come. Her dusky silent pres
ence Is as real as the moon and
stars will be when night falls later
on. It Is made known to the watch
er by a change In the quality of the
sunlight, ns If a silvery veil had
fallen suddenly across the sky.
He turned and walked slowly up
the dnrk path toward the house.
The birds outside Bryn’s window
wakened him very early; the morn
ing air wns still night-cold and
fresh when he yawned, stretched,
drew back his quilts and sprang out
A few minutes later, In his white
shirt and gray knickerbockers he
closed his door nolsetessly and tip
toed down the hall past the door
which must be Deborah’s, since It
was the only closed one along the
corridor. Gary, who was obviously
In Deborah's confidence, had been
most reluctnnt even to give Bryn
a room In this wing, but It couldn’t
be helped, since Mrs. Lamed her
self was In the north wing.
Bryn stepped out over the puff of
dew-laden grass at the foot of the
steps, to the wide red uneven stones
of the path. He thrust his hands
In his pockets and sauntered along
the side of the south wing and
around the end. He was facing the
mountain now; there wns still a
little broken wreath of mist around
the top. Between him and the for
est, at the hack of the stretch of
park land, he could see the serrat
ed rows of the orchard trees, and
a clear flat space beside It which
appeared to he a garden, lie fol
lowed the narrow beaten path,
hedged with drooping wet grass,
across to the corner of the orchard.
He came to a stop beneath a cherry
tree whose topmost houghs were still
laden down with heavy fruit. Bryn
regarded It. lie put a foot on a
low branch and swung himself up
Into the tree as far the heavier
branches would take him.
1 he cherry tree, being on the side
of the hill, was n vantage point.
Below him the house, smothered in
its Ivy, lay without a sign of habl
tatlorf. Beyond It the brook was
marked out by the double line of
Directly ahead lay a gentle slope
of meadow; and as Bryn's eyes fell
upon it he caught quite distinctly a
Hash of blue across the green.
It hud most certainly been a
gown. He climbed down hastily
from the tree and started off ucross
He came at last Into the natural
clearing which had once been the
bottom of the stream. Ills eyes
caught again that blue flash . . .
ah, there she was.
Deborah was kneeling on the side
of a little knoll, with a round blue
bowl beside her. She was picking
wild strawberries. She was dressed
In a short-sleeved blue dress, per
haps a little faded, but still ex
She looked up, startled, her eyes
wide and dark.
“Good morning/’ Bryn offered
cheerfully. “Did something happen
to your clock, or do you usually get
up at half-past five?’’
“I usually get up," she replied.
Bryn dropped down comfortably
on the grass a yard away.
She gathered her skirts together
around her knees, rose, and moved
farther away. “I don’t think there
are any berries left w’here you are,"
she remarked. “But you ought to
look before you get down on the
“I did look," Bryn replied. "You
may not have seen me, Deborah,
but I looked. My eye is very quick.
I pride myself on It. To see one
of nature's jewels shining among
the dank and ugly grasses is one
of the things I’m best at."
Across the knoll she regarded him
steadily. “It sounds very poetic,"
she said at last.
“Deborah," Bryn began.
The color flashed back into her
cheeks. “Must you call me that?”
she demanded. “I didn’t ask you to
call me that. You haven’t any
"I was about to discuss that very
question myself,” Bryn replied. “I
was about to ask you If we couldn’t
come to some sort of compromise.”
“We got on very well on the trip
up here. You didn’t seem to mis
trust me. But after we got here—
yesterday at lunch, and last night
at dinner, and In the drawing room
later—you must admit it was diffi
She lifted her chin. “You were
so—familiar,” she snld proudly.
“Familiar?" he repeated.
“I don't think It was necessary.
You . . . you talked as if . . . you
looked at me . . . you . . . and you
put your arm around Grandmother
when you said good night. I saw
“I couldn't help it,” Bryn said
mournfully. “She’s a very nice
grandmother, after all. Isn’t she?
And I never saw one like her be
fore. If you can imagine it, De
borah, I never had a grandmother
of my own."
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Up to the time of Charles II.
Churing Cross stood nrnong the
fields in London. The name is de
rived from the Saxon word char
rynge, meaning a turning. In 1291
Edward I erected at Charing the
last of thirteen crosses which
murked the route of the funeral
procession of his wife Eleanor,
from Grantham. Lincolnshire, to
Westminster, The cross was tak
en down In 10-17. A modern me
morial cross is inside the Charing
Cross station yard. Eleanor Jour
neyed with Edward I to the Holy
Land ami sucked the poison from
a wound dealt her husband by a
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They had suddenly grown rich and
bought a farm complete with hens,
cows and pigs. Said a visitor: “Do
your hens lay eggs?"
“They can." was the reply, “but In
our position they don't have to."
Ting a Ling
Though life Is most uncertain
I’m sure of this one thing
That when Pm In the bathtub
The telephone will ring,
A Smart Man
Teacher—Who was the world's
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f FLAVOR j I
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Son—Paw, why was Adam created
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