__ ■■ —Sonnet Set ial 7iction ■ ■
MAID N Ef DCDT
AUTHOR OF
By SAMUEL HOPKINS ADAMS 'it happened
ONE NIGHT1
9 SAMUEL HOPKINS ADAMS WNU SERVICE
■ ..
CHAPTER VI—Continued
“10—
His leisure moments Glunk devoted
to staring at the sky with an expres
sion of doubt and apprehension.
Once Marne caught him perform
ing what seemed to be some sort of
propitiatory rite to unseen gods,
presumably of the weather. Be
tween observations he would retire
| to a small work-shed attached to the
mansion, to tinker with an ancient
and decrepit flat-boat which he had
dragged up, derelict, from the lake.
There was plenty of weather for
his observations. All the Finger
Lakes region had for a month cow
ered under a pall of weepy, gray
clouds. The normally peaceful lit
tle creek which crooked a protec
tive elbow around Holmesholm be
fore emptying into the lake, was a
brawling torrent, and the dry ra
vine on the other side of the house
now hardly controlled a boisterous
stream. Marne repeated Moby
Dickstein’s despairing query to
Glunk.
“Doesn’t it ever clear up? I’m
getting bored with it.”
With Marne the monster occasion
ally became quite loquacious. He
now burst into consecutive speech.
“Rain,” he chattered. “Plenty
rain. Mo’ rain. Tomorrow, meb
be sun. Mebbeatwo day. Mebbe
free. Rain again.” He swept a
long, anxious look around the dull
horizon and drew his head in be
• tween his shoulders like a threat
ened turtle. “Too much rain. Bad
place,” he announced.
"I think it’s a lovely place. If it
weren’t so wet.”
Glunk produced his week'* check.
“You get mon’?” he requested con
fidently.
She nodded. Nobody else would
the creature trust in his financial
dealings, and each time that Marne
produced cash for his bit of paper,
he gazed upon her with the worship
ful awe due to a worker of miracles.
"What do you do with all your
money, Glunk?”
"Whusshh.” He pressed his hairy,
gnat hand over his lips, then re
moved it to exhibit his three-fanged
smile. "You come," he invited, aft
er spying about to assure himself
that there was no one within watch
ing distance.
Roundabout, threading between
barns and outhouses, stopping to
stare and mumble at the brawling
creek, he led her by a devious route
back to a vine-swathed, wooden
structure behind the house, shelter
ing a long disused well. Darting to
his work-shed, he reappeared with
a flashlight which he directed into
the well-mouth.
"You keep it down there?"
"Urgck.”
"That’s very clever of you.”
Grinning, he indicated a cavity,
some eight feet down, formed by the
displacement of a stone. This, she
was given to understand, was his
bank. He seemed enormously
pleased with it.
"Well, I wouldn’t want to go down
there,” the girl decided. “I don’t
believe it’s safe. Those walls look
bulgy to me.”
Again the hoarder hunched his
shoulders. "Too much rain,” he
growled uneasily.
True to his prophecy, however,
the sun blazed forth on the follow
ing morning and chased all the loi
tering clouds from the sky. It was
the perfect opportunity for the ca
noe test. To be sure, A. Leon Sny
dacker was away for the day, but
Moby Dickstein did not dare wait
further upon the capricious weather.
The first step was to get his leading
man to the low bluff overlooking the
lake. To one of Moby’s diplomat
ic attainments, this was easy. The
pretense was that he needed expert
advice in working out some detail of
topography. Kelsey made no de
mur.
Everything, the director fondly
decided, was perfect. Below the
cliff the waters went off very sheer
to a depth of several feet. For a
skilled swimmer in a hurry, as
Moby anticipated that the hero
would be, a dive from the summit
into safe water would be quite feasi
ble. Or he might elect to slide down
the little precipice and plunge from
the thin edge of shore. Either way
would suit Moby. All that was now
needed was Miss Van Stratten.
Prompt to the assigned minute,
she appeared around the bend, clad
in a most becoming bathing suit and
propelling the small canoe with
strong, easy strokes. As an added
feature, not figured in the directori
al calculations, the faithful Glunk
floundered along the beach, now in,
now out of the water, and keeping
as nearly abreast as possible. How
ever, that did not matter at the mo
ment All was set
Exactly opposite the spot where
Moby Dickstein and his leading man
were engaged in topographical con
ference and the masked camera’
waited below for its prey, the canoe
paused and drifted, some thirty
yards offshore. The occupant lifted
her head.
“Yoo-hoo! Moby!” She waved her
paddle.
“Steady, there," warned Moby as
per agreement
“I’m getting aU cramped," she
complained, and stood up.
“Siddown!" yelled the director in
well simulated alarm, as the craft
wobbled and canted.
"I’m all right,” she called gayly,
and to prove It waved the paddle
above her head.
“Migawd! She’ll be over in a min
ute."
She was. For an uncertain mo
ment she struggled for balance.
Then, with a shriek which com
manded Moby’s professional admi
ration, she plunged. The canoe
swerved aside. The waters boiled.
A face rose, dripping and gasping.
“Help! Help!” The appeal rent
the air. She sank again and again
appeared, burbling.
Moby Dickstein beat his breast.
“Get her, somebody,” he wailed. "1
can’t swim.”
"All right,” snapped Kelsey.
In one movement he had shucked
his coat and measured the distance
for a dive. With a covert grin of
satisfaction the director marked the
progress of the strategy devised by
his boss. The grin disappeared as
the progress halted inexplicably. He
sputtering. "I’ve been thinking you
over. Would you like to know what
1 think of you?”
“Get it off your mind if you feel
you must.”
"1 think you're a coward.” I've
tried to be decent to you. but now
I’m through. I’ve known all the
time that you were a big bluff. But
you’re so much worse than I ever
dreamed that—that—”
"Don’t try to finish it. You’ll only
spoil the effect.”
"Nothing could have an effect
upon your sort.”
“There you misjudge me. I’m
really a sensitive soul. Some day,”
he finished sadly, “you will realize
how you have wounded me. But it
may then be too late.”
“You don't mean It's likely to
prove fatal?” she asked hopefully.
“It might. You don’t realize your
own power. I’m going home now
to weep on my pillow.”
Before she could think of the an
swer to that one he had disap
peared in the brush.
The tramp steamer, Andreas A.
Onderdonk. bound for Central Amer
“Don’t get sore just because he outsmarted you."
who had been cast for the role of
gallant rescuer seemed to have un
dergone a change of spirit. Instead
of taking a photographable header,
he stood, peering toward the spot
where the water was still in tur
moil with an expression which, at
first observant, became suspicious,
and finally cynical.
“Help! Hel-l-l-lp!"
To Moby’s attuned ear, a note of
exasperation had crept into the ap
peal. And the supposed hero of the
crisis? To his director’s unutterable
indignation, he sat down comforta
bly and dangled his legs over the
edge of the void through which his
devoted body should have been hur
tling.
"Whatsa matter?" yelped Moby.
“Nothing.”
“Ain’t you goin’ after her?”
“Not today,” answered the placid
hero.
“What in hell’s bitin’ you?"
“Don’t want to get my feet wet,”
explained Kelsey.
Out in the lake Marne was doing
a very creditable job of drowning,
but getting a little bored with it.
Coming up for the third (and she
hoped it would be the last) time, she
heard a roar of terror and dismay
in a voice strangely unlike that of
Templeton Sayles, Esq.
Glunk to the rescueI
A fountain of foam marked his
heroic progress. He covered the
distance at a speed which even the
expert Kelsey could hardly have bet
tered. Arriving at the spot, he fixed
a mighty grip upon the first portion
of Marne’s anatomy to present it
self. Unfortunately this chanced to
be an ankle. Consequently her pas
sage to the safety of the beach was
mainly sub-surface. She arrived in
a mood for murder.
Beaming and fawning, Glunk set
her on her feet and aided her, as
best he could to recover herself.
After an interval of strangling she
lifted her eyes and beheld the sup
positious hero of the recent scene.
Nobody else was in sight. The cam
eraman had lost interest in the
event from the moment when the
apparition of the impromptu life
saver impinged upon the sensitive
lens. As a stooge for the leading
man, Glunk, full-face, lacked plausi
bility. With his unerring sense of
expediency, Moby Dickstein had
also decided to fade away. In all
the smiling landscape, the only foil
for Marne’s righteous resentment
was the young man now swinging
nonchalant legs above her. To make
matters worse, he was lighting a
cigarette.
“All right now?” he asked kindly.
“You!” She tried for an effect of
blighting scorn, but impaired it by
ica with a deckload of Martin
Holmes’ nervous troubles, was beat
en far off her course into a Texas
port, on the same day as Marne’s
maritime misadventure. While the
boat was laid up for minor replace
ments, her lone passenger went to
the town library to catch up with
the news, he being, at the time,
some weeks in arrears. In a New
York newspaper of past date he
saw again the features of Miss Mar
ion Norman Van Stratten.
“Our old friend Miss Adelina Ash
can, the back-door debutante,” he
murmured, and read the accompa
nying letter-press.
From this he learned that Miss
Van Stratten’s prize-winning face
was then being rehearsed in A. Leon
Snydacker’s production of ‘Maiden
Effort.” Naturally the title meant
nothing to him. But he was mildly
interested in the result of the com
petition wherein his entry had so
signally flopped. He appealed to
the lady librarian.
“Have you anything else about
this?”
The official, a faded and roguish
spinster of fifty, chanced to be a
motion picture fan, and therefore a
compendium of information.
“Miss Van Stratten? Oh. yes. In
deed I She's the new star. A New
York society girL You don’t hap
pen to know her, do you?”
“No. I’m not interested in her.
It’s the picture I'd like to know
about.”
"You might find something In one
of these.”
Several trade papers, having to
do with the Hollywood industry
were put into his hands. He seated
himself at a table and looked them
over with a languid eye, which was
suddenly fixed in a fishy stare. Hold
ing up one of the publications, he
rose and advanced upon his inform
ant, his finger glued to a paragraph,
his face contorted into an expres
sion which alarmed the librarian
equally for his mental state and her
physical safety.
He thrust the publication at her.
"You read this. I’m not sure I got
it right. This. Right here. Read
it to me.”
"Please sit down," she said in
what she hoped were soothing ac
cents. "Is this it? Very well.” She
began: " ‘The new Purity Pictures
production, Maiden Effort, from the
prize-winning novel by Templeton
Sayles, will be under the personal
supervision of A. Leon Sny—”
"Wait a minute, please. Who did
it say it was by?”
“Templeton Sayles. Do you know
him?”
"I am Templeton Sayles.”
"You!” ejaculated the lady libra
rian. “Oh. gosh!”
"Exactly,” said Martin Holmes
Sayles.
“It says here that Templeton
Sayles is cast to play leading man
opposite Miss Van Stratten.”
“Malden Featherston?”
"That’s it”
“Then it’s my story, all right"
She frowned. “But they’re tak
ing the picture now, so this says.
How can that be if you’re Mr. Tem
pleton Sayles?”
"That’s what I’m going to find
out,” said he grimly. “By the next
train north. Good-by, and thank
you.”
CHAPTER VII
Small satisfaction did Marne get
out of her ally. Miss Glamour, when
she sought sympathy in her griev
ance against Templeton Sayles, Esq.
Gloria’s opinion was definite but not
soothing.
“You would take his side.”
“Don’t get sore just because he
outsmarted you.”
“I believe you like him,” accused
the disgusted Marne.
“Sure, I like him. Probably not
as much as you do.”
“You can have him. With my
blessing.”
"On the level, kid, why have you
got such a down on Tempy?”
“I can’t stand the lady-killer
type.”
“Where do you get your slant on
him?"
“From that awful stuff he wrote
about himself.”
"You know darn well that’s all
fake.”
"Of course it is. But it shows his
character. That’s the sort he’d like
to be if he could. I’ll bet,” she
concluded viciously, “he boasts
about women to other men in smok
ing rooms.”
“You’ve got him different from
what I have,” commented the beau
ty girl thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t hold
up the Sayles Saga stuff against
him.”
‘Because you don’t understand,”
was the impatient response. “You
never studied psychology, did you?”
To Marne's surprise the other an
swered readily, “Sure. Sophomore
year, when I was Miss University
of East Idaho.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Few Household Chores Worry Japanese
Women; Little Time Spent in Cooking
A minimum of time and labor is
required to get the Japanese family
started every morning. Bed quilts
are rolled up and put away in a
closet. Chopsticks and bowls are
rinsed out in either hot or cold
water and left to dry, says the Na
tional Geographic magazine. Even
the daily cooking takes little time.
Fish and rice are the staples. Fish
is often eaten raw, and rice may be
cooked at any time and set aside in
a wooden tub to be served cold.
Vegetables are few. Peas are
cooked in the pod, and the big white
carrots and cabbages are pickled.
Other household duties are quick
ly done. Except among the well-to
do, the general custom of going to
public baths and buying ready-made
clothing frees the women from
many hours of housework. The cot
ton kimonos are washed out and
hung to dry on poles run through
the sleeves. Stretching on the pole
is the only ironing necessary.
The country woman, after giving
the family a quick breakfast of rice,
pickles and hot tea, ties the baby
on her back and makes for the
fields. With kimono tucked up, she
engages in any kind of farm labor.
Sometimes she works alone, more
often side by side with husband or
son. In the spring she hoes or
weeds, transplants the young rice,
or cuts the winter wheat In au
tumn she moves with bent back
down the field with a sickle, help
ing menfolk cut and thresh the rice
—the major crop of Japan. Two
farm jobs seem exclusively hers—
the picking of tea leaves and the
tending of silkworms.
Was Soldier of Three Wars
Winfield Scott was born in Vir
ginia, June 13, 1780. As a lieutenant
colonel during the War of 1812 he
was taken prisoner in the battle of
Queenstown Heights; in a few
months he was exchanged. In 1814,
a brigadier general, he defeated the
British in the battles of Chippewa
and Lundy’s Lane. He commanded
the army which invaded Mexico in
1847 and fought its way into. the
capital. Though a Southerner by
birth, he remained at the head of
the United States army as com
mander in chief at the outbreak of
the Civil war, serving until Novem
ber 1, 1861, when he retired at tha
age of seventy-flva.
WHO’S
NEWS
THIS
WEEK
I — 1
By LEMUEL F. PARTON
NEW YORK. — Once, at an al
ley’s end in Guayaquil, this re
porter then young and indiscreet,
became involved in an argument
with certain of
Medic« K. O. the native citi
/// Will and zenry, who in
Fever in S. A. ®isted that North
Americans ate
only dog meat. Your correspond
ent knew only enough Spanish to
get him into trouble, and was using
it diligently to that end when Dr.
Robert Entwistle, once of Philadel
phia, later a student and practition
er of tropical medicine along the
west coast fever ports, appeared.
He calmed the excitement and
saved his countryman much em
barrassment and possibly a broken
head. It was Idee magic, the way
he piped everybody down. They
loved and trusted him and he was
their authority on everything from
international relations to beri-beri.
So, today, It seemed almost
like old news to read In a dis
patch from Lima that it was an
American doctor and not a
statesman, who, possibly more
than any other one man, has In
duced respect and good will for
this country, down around and
below the equator. With a num
ber of other American doctors,
Dr. John D. Long, of the United
States Public Health service,
has been carrying on a fight
against the bubonic plague,
malaria, chagres fever and other
tropical curses in Ecuador, Bra
zil, Peru, Chile and other coun
tries. He holds decorations from
half a dozen South American
countries. He and bis col
leagues have served only in re
sponse to specific requests for
their services, and the sum of
their efforts has been to allay
ill will, dispel prejudice and
misunderstanding and promote
friendly relations.
Doctor Long, 64 years old, quiet,
precise, unassuming, is a typical
American professional man, whose
home town was Mt. Pleasant, Pa.
After his graduation from the med
ical school of the University of
Pennsylvania, he entered the nation
al public health service, became its
assistant surgeon, and, assigned to
the Philippines, won eminence in
his profession in his work In sani
tation and in fighting disease. In
1926, he was loaned to the Chilean
government for a similar encounter
there.
In this writer’s observation of
South American countries, par
ticularized instances of civilized
behavior, fair dealing and re
gard for native traditions and
amenities, once the fear of pred
atory designs had been over
come, were effective where all
else failed, including our most
eloquent offerings of official
friendship.
THE New York aquarium gets
three African flsh which have
high foreheads and bigger brains
in proportion to their size than any
other creatures
Plan l. Q. Rating below the Pri
Rare Fish With mates. This
Out-Size Brain makes them
skittish and
doesn’t seem to get them anything,
although they manage to keep out
of aquaria and frying pans. These
are the first ever brought to this
country.
Dr. Charles M. Breder Jr.
plans to go to Africa as soon as
possible to check up on their 1.
Q. The ancient Egyptians re
vered and protected them, in the
belief that their huge brain cav
ities were inhabited by the souls
of departed men. Doctor Breder
thinks a study of their intelli
gence, if any, in relation to their
out-size brain, might be enlight
ening.
Doctor Breder was a boy icthyol
ogist at Newark, where the family
was apt to find the bathtub full of
killies and sticklebacks. In his ex
amination for a biologist’s job in
the fisheries bureau, he confounded
his elders and beat out Ph. D. en
trants in the competition. He was
assistant director of the Aquarium
for 14 years and became director
a year ago.
Doctor Breder is said to rank
all other scientists. He is 40
years old, a fragile, clerical
looking man, with blue eyes and
yellow hair. But his appearance
is deceptive. On the Richard
Oglesby Marsh expedition, to
the Chucunaquc river country in
southern Panama, in 1924, in
which Dr. J. L. Baer of the
Smithsonian institution lost his
life. Doctor Breder came
through swimmingly, with no
chagres fever or beri-beri and
a brand new fish. Its name,
Rivulus Chucunaque Breder, is
In 8-pt. body type, five-sixteenths
of an inch longer than the fish.
(£> Consolidated News Features.
WN1I Ser"*"*
Indoor and Outdoor Ideas
/~\NE of these designs gives you
^ four gay little extras to fresh
en up your dark dresses and suits
—an accessory set comprising a
fitted jacket, a soft, roomy bag, a
tailored ascot scarf and a pair of
those new boxy-figured gloves.
The other is a practical house
dress, so comfortable and so good
looking that you’ll want it for
shopping and runabout as well as
for home work. Make the frivo
lous accessory set—make the use
ful house dress! Both are easy,
and you’ll enjoy them both!
Four Matching Accessories.
It will make your clothes seem
like lots more, if you vary them
with bright accessories in just the
colors you want. Don’t be afraid
to tackle the gloves. They’re easy,
with the detailed sew chart in
cluded in your pattern and so
smart! Lots of women who
haven’t sewed any more than you
have are making their own, with
this design. Choose flannel, jer
sey, or suede.
Slenderizing House Dress.
This is such a trim, tailored
style, with darts at the waistline
for slimness, and a gathered bod
ice to give fullness over the bust.
The skirt has an action pleat for
greater comfort. The plain V
neckline, finished with edging, is
Everchanging Crowd
The failures are the everchang
ing crowd. The flukes are the flit
terers and the quitters.—Van Am
burgh.
very becoming. All in all, this
dress fits so well and looks so
well that you should have it in flat
crepe or polka dot print as well as
in tubfast cottons like calico, per
cale, gingham and linen.
The Patterns.
No. 1652 is designed for sizes 36,
38, 40, 42, 44, 46, 48, 50 and 52. With
long sleeves, size 38 requires 4%
yards of 35-inch material; with
short sleeves, 4% yards, 2y« yards
of edging.
No. 1643 is designed for sizes 14,
16, 18, 20, 40 and 42. Size 16 re
quires 1% yards of 54-inch fabric
for the jacket; % yard for ths
gloves, with % yard contrast; 1%
yards for the scarf and % yard
for the bag.
Send your order to The Sewing
Circle Pattern Dept., Room 1020,
211 W. Wacker Dr., Chioago, 111.
Price of patterns, 15 cents (in
coins) each.
UESHON
You never seem to have
a cold, EtheL
liglli/gp
8 vB Je wW 88C n
Perhaps I’m just lucky. But
I always use Luden’s at the
first sign. They contain an
alkaline factor, you know.
LUDEN'S 5
MINTHOLCOUOH DROPS
Rich and Poor
He is rich whose income is moro
than his expenses; and he is poor
whose expenses exceed his in
come.—Bruyere.
Can’t Eat, Can’t
Sleep, Awful Gas
PRESSES HEART
*Ou on my stomach vu so bad I oould
not cat or altsp. It avail pressed oa my
heart. A friend suggested Adlerika. The
first dose brought me relief. Now I eat aa 1
wish, sleep fine, and never fait better.”—
Mrs. Ju. Filler. Adlerika acta on BOTH
upper and lower bowels. Adlerika gives your
Intestinal aystem a real cleansing, bringing
out waste matter that may bava caused GAS
BLOATING, sour stomach, headaohea,
nervousness, a nd sleepless nights for months,
You will be amased at this efficient Intestinal
cleanser. Just one spoonful usually relitves
GAS and constipation. Adlerika does not
gripe, is not habit forming. Recommended by
many dootors and druggista lor 86 years.
Sold at all drug stores
Let Down by Success
Success has brought many to
destruction.—Phaedrus.
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