By
MARTHA
OSTENSO
O MARTHA OSTENSO—WNU SERVICE
# THE STORY THUS FAR
LovAy, independent Autumn Dean, returning home to British Columbia from
abroad without her father's knowledge, stop* at the home of Hector Cardigan,
an old family friend. He tells her that she should not have come home, that
things have changed. Arriving home at the "Castle of the Norns, she is greeted
lovingly by her father, Jarvis Dean, who gives her to understand that she Is wel
come—for a short visit. Her mother, former belle named Mlllicent Odell, has
been dead for years. Autumn cannot understand her fathers attitude, though
gives him to understand that she Is home for good. She has grown tired of l“e
England, where she lived with an aunt. Her father gives a welcoming dance at the
castle. Autumn meets Flortan Parr, dashing, well-educated young man of the
countryside. Late In the evening Autumn leaves the dance, rides horseback to the
neighboring ranch where she meets Bruce Landor. friend and champion of her
childhood days. He takes he® to see his mother, an invaUd. His father is dead,
thought to have killed himself. As soon as his mother sees Autumn she com
ntands Bruce to take her away, that death follows In the wake of the Odells. Autumn
Is both saddened and perplexed. Bruce, apologetic, can offer no reason for ms
mother's attitude. Autumn calls again on Hector Cardigan—this time out
the reason for Mrs. Landor's outburst. From his conversation she inferred that
Geoffrey Landor killed himself because he loved Mlllicent Dean, her mother. Mean
while, Bruce Landor rides to the spot where his father's body was found years be
fore There he meets Autumn, who. leaving Hector, was searching for a los. child.
Bruce had found the child, and there Autumn and he talk of their families They
agree that her mother and his father loved each other deeply—and that their love
la the cause of present antagonism.
CHAPTER IV—Continued
Even old Hannah had slowly re
adjusted her whole psychology with
Autumn as the center and control
ling force of the new order. That,
no doubt, was what irritated him.
He could never have admitted to
himself that anything or anyone in
the world could have usurped his
place in this house that had shel
tered him for almost a quarter of a
century. Nor was the girl conscious
of what she had done—he would say
that for her. She would be the first
to protest that he was still master in
his own house and his word was law.
* She was loyal, if loyalty could be
said to exist in the hearts of these
young irresponsibles, and she was
affection itself. He had loved the
girl devotedly during the years she
had been away from him, but the
feeling he had for her now that she
was back had grown so deep that
the tears started to his eyes now as
he thought of her.
Just now he was more resolved
than ever that they should quit the
country. He had seen Autumn in
the company of this young Parr.
There was a nincompoop, if ever
there was one. What was wrong
with a man like old Elliot Parr that
he could breed nothing better than
a hare-brained numbskull like Flor
ian? The race must be going to the
dogs! And what could a girl like
Autumn see in him? He wasn’t even
thoroughly a bad one—he was a
mere nothing! Why in the devil
hadn’t the girl found herself a de
cent husband long ago? He blamed
her Aunt Flo for that. Flo never
had been one you could count on.
Well, he would have no daughter of
his mate with Florian Parr—much
as he admired Elliot.
A cold chill passed over him as
his thoughts turned to Bruce Lan
dor. Jarvis had seen Landor and
Autumn riding home together last
night after that fool affair of the lost
Willmar boy. What was getting into
people that they couldn’t take care
of their own brats any longer? Damn
it all, parents nowadays had no
sense of responsibility. Well, he
would look after his own, at any
rate. If he was called upon to do
so, he would tell Autumn emphati
cally that the Deans and the Lan
dors belonged to different worlds
and they would stay where they be
longed. If that wasn’t enough, he
would go further. He would—But
why get so wrought up over a mere
hypothesis?
He got up quickly at the sound of
■a motor coming to a halt before thp
house. He tossed his half-smoked
cigar into the fireplace and steppeo
to a small cupboard that stood back
In one corner. He poured himself a
sizable drink of his favorite Scotch
blend and held it for a moment
toward the sunlit window before he
drank it. He closed the cupboard
and went to his room on the same
floor. He would have to brush up a
bit before going down to dinner.
Florian Parr filled the two glasses
a second time and handed one to
Autumn. He was well pleased with
himself. He had spent a large part
of a beautiful Sunday afternoon in
the company of Jarvis Dean's
daughter and had watched her as
she swung her car dizzily over trails
he had never traveled before. He
had listened to her gay chatter and
had done his best to contribute his
own share of small talk about Lon
don and Paris and the men and
women that belonged to the world
he had left when his father had
made it plain that if he wished to
remain in it any longer he would
have to pay his own bills. It had
been a delightful outing—almost like
a visit with an old friend.
He had thought Autumn beautiful
when he had sat beside her during
their ride but he had never seen
anyone quite so ravishing as the
girl who stood before him now and
lifted her refilled glass. She was
gowned in a coolly glowing white
satin that clung the length of her
body and flared out almost to the
floor; small tip? of green pumps
peered out from below the white,
and at her throat on a platinum
chain hung a large single emerald,
her father’s gift, she had explained,
on her twenty-first birthday.
He raised his glass toward her
and smiled. “You may drink to
what you please,’’ he said, “but I’m
toasting the queen of the Upper
Country!’’
“Queens are becoming so old-fash
ioned, Florian,” she countered. "I
am not flattered.”
“My error,” he apologized with a
slight bow. “I’ll compromise on the
Princess — they’re still in style,
aren’t they?”
“Expatriated,” she observed.
“Good enough,” he said, and
drained his glass eagerly.
Autumn sipped her cocktail and
took a cigarette from the box on the
low table that held the shaker an
its tray.
"You know,” Florian went on, set
ting his glass aside, “I can’t help
thinking of you as carrying on the
legend of your forebears—your
mother and her mother. They must
have been lovely creatures to have
given life to such traditions as they
have handed down.”
“Lovely,” Autumn said, “—and
flaming.”
“Lovely—and flaming!" Florian
repeated. “My father has told me
about your mother, especially. You
must be very like her.”
“I know very little of my moth
er,” Autumn replied, “except what
I have been told.”
He came and stood beside her,
erect and confident in his manner.
His eyes were narrowed as he
looked down at her.
“You will find me very abrupt at
times, Autumn,” he said. “I have
learned it simplifies matters very
often to speak one’s mind. I have
been thinking about—us.”
"Us, Florian?” Autumn smiled.
“I’d almost swear you were going
to propose to me.”
"But I am,” he said. “I believe
you and I were made for each oth
_ _ • »
er.
• She laughed lightly. "Why, Flor
ian—what a quaint idea! I don’t be
lieve those words have ever been
used before!”
“They may have been,” he ad
mitted, "but never more appropri
ately. We both come from adven
turous stock. There is something
untamed in both of us. We are
both—gamblers. But I’ve never
been more serious in my life. I
want to marry you."
Autumn could not doubt his se
riousness. The knowledge made her
thoughtful. "Florian,” she said,
“you really are a dear.” A perverse
humor seized her. “Suppose I tell
you that I’ll think it over?”
"Excellent!” he replied, placing
an arm abruptly about her shoul
ders. “You are permitting me to
hope, then?”
She laughed up at him. “Not at
all Florian,” she said. “1 am—in
effect—refusing you.”
His serious mood vanished sudden
ly. He was actually amused at the
situation. He chortled and stepped
back from her. It was the first
time he had ever really proposed
to any girl in earnest—and she
thought she was turning him down!
Jarvis Dean’s girl at that, with a
background as iniquitous as sin! It
was that background that lent
piquancy to his quest, after all. and
besides, by the Lord Harry, he was
crazy about the girl!
Presently his amusement subsided
and his lips drew to a thin, petulant
line.
“I'll give you time to think about
it. Autumn.” he said, striving to
carry it off with a gay, inconsequen
tial air. “When we are alone again.
I'll tell you how I love you.”
“And how do you love me, Flor
ian?" Her tone was gently mocking
Florian stepped toward her again
and grasped her wrist. Autumn was
amazed to see that his face had
gone suddenly pale.
“Don’t be a little fool!” he said.
“You know when you’ve met your
equal—in nerve—in contempt for
life. You are going to marry me,
Autumn, because we see—eye to
eye.”
He released her and walked away
as Jarvis Dean's footstep was heard
descending the stairway. Autumn
turned to greet her father.
“Come along in, Daddy!” she
called. "Florian has Just been pro
posing to me."
Jarvis Dean’s face lighted with a
smile as he entered the room.
“He’ll be safe enough so long as
you don’t accept him,” he said.
“I think it was the cocktails that
did it.” Autumn laughed.
“A good dinner will fix that,” said
the Laird, giving Florian his hand.
“How are you, my boy?”
"Topping!” Florian said, as their
hands crossed. “I hope you have
no objection to my proposing to Au
tumn. I really couldn’t help it, you
know.”
“None whatever, sir. It’s my opin
ion that she has had some experi
ence in the business. She ought to
be able to look after herself by this.”
“Rather,” Florian drawled. "She
managed the affair quite nicely, I
should say. Can I help you to a
cocktail, sir?”
“No,” Jarvis replied, "I’m a se
rious man and have too much re
spect for my stomach, thank God.
to punish it with such Infernal con
coctions.”
Florian laughed and filled his own
glass. “Father sends you his re
spects, sir,” he said, "and would
like to see you when you can take a
day off.”
“And I’d like to see him, too,”
Jarvis replied, seating himself.
“I have asked Autumn down for
the polo game next week-end,” Flor
ian went on. “Perhaps you could
find the time, sir—”
“Not yet, not yet,” Jarvis replied.
"It’s a busy time of the year for
me. Besides, you youngsters will
have more fun without too many old
codgers hanging about.”
His big white head was thrust for
ward in its characteristic way as
though he were eager to show an
interest in the plans and projects
of these youngsters while his mind
and his obscure spirit remained
withdrawn, remote. Autumn had
seen the deaf and the blind make
that same piteous effort at sociabil
ity.
“Now, Daddy!” she rebuked him.
“You’re just fishing. You want us
to assure you that you are the best
It was the note of the
Basque bell.
looking and most fascinating gentle
man in the Upper Country, and that
no party would be complete without
you.”
The tapers of the Laird’s infre
quent smile lighted for a brief mo
ment of pleasure in his eyes.
‘‘1 could go—perhaps,” he admit
ted. “I’ll see how things are in a
week's time. I'd enjoy a day with
Elliot Parr.”
Old Hannah stepped into the door
way and announced dinner.
An hour before sunset the sky
had been overcast, with a purple
caravan of thunderheads in the
west; the thrumming of insects and
the humid, flower smell of the air
presaged rain. On a grassy hill
top ten miles eastward from the
Castle. Autumn dismounted from her
horse and let the animal graze while
she stood and looked into the valley
below
On the slopes that streamed into
the valley like smooth reddish cas
cades in the low sun. more than
seven thousand head of sheep moved
in bands, twelve hundred to a band.
At dawn the herders had started
them from home on the trek up into
the mountains to the very margins
of the eternal snows, in the relent
less. lonely quest for grass.
Now, from the hillside directly op
posite her across the little valley,
a crow’s flight half-mile away, came
the limpidly sweet note of a bell.
It seemed to Autumn that the sound
was almost visible, floating like
some silver bubble within that rosy
dome of silence, lingering and van
ishing into the infinity whence it had
come.
It was the note of the Basque bell.
A fancy had seized her that morn
ing while she had watched her fa
ther’s men preparing for their de
parture. Only a week before, there
had come to the ranch a youth of
nineteen or twenty whose appear
ance had been so bizarre that the
Willmar children had gathered
around him with frank curiosity. He
had come from the soda mines up
north, and was seeking employment
as a herder. He was slight of build,
not over medium height, and on the
back of his head he had worn a
shapeless homespun cap, set so that
a twine-colored mop of hair started
out abruptly from beneath its peak
He had worn a short, tight-fitting
coat, a jerkin. Autumn had supposed
it was, also homespun and of a faded
pea-green, so incommodious in the
sleeves that the red joints of his
wrists stuck painfully out from be
neath them. Under the Jacket he
had worn a checked shirt and where
the Jacket gaped aside, suspenders
of a brilliant green drew his thread
bare trousers almost up to his arm
pits, leaving his bare shins exposed.
He had worn hobnailed boots, and
had carried a birch stick over his!
shoulder, at the end of which a gray!
bundle had been securely lashed.
The Laird out of the kindness of
his heart, and probably a whimsl- i
cal humor, had given him employ
ment as old Absolom's helper. His
name, they had discovered, was
Clancy Shane, but Jarvis Dean had
Jocularly nicknamed him "Moony.”
On a sudden impulse. Autumn had
gone back into the house and
brought out the Basque bell. She
had entrusted it to the keeping of
Clancy Shane, who had secured it
to the wether of his flock. And now,
from the opposite hillside, came the
pure sound of the bell, singularly In
nocent across the hollow distance
The sound turned her thoughts
again to Bruce Landor, who had
scarcely been out of her mind dur
ing the past week. She thought of
their meeting at Hector Cardigan’s,
when she had gone to fetch home the
bell, and of her telling him about
Hector’s conceit concerning it.
There was something in the sound of
the bell now that brought the lovely
wraith of her mother before her out
of the nebulous glamor of the past.
This had been Millicent Odell’s
world, the world of the pioneers and
the subtle architects of empire, and
now in turn it was her world. Sud
denly she was glad, glad with all
her heart that she was back home
where life had meaning, where life
was a profound harmony.
She pulled a bit of bloom oft a
sage bush and began to pick it to
pieces with her fingers. There had
come upon her a revelation that dis
mayed, frightened and exalted her.
She stood for a moment looking
down into the valley where the shad
ows were beginning to deepen, then,
impetuously flinging away the shrub
which she held, she mounted her
horse again and rode westward to
ward the Landor ranch.
Bruce Landor sat before the rough
plank table in the herder’s cabin in
the ravine. The place was deserted
now, the men having gone to the
hills the previous day. The lamp
stood lighted on the table before
him. He had put the place in or
der and was ready at last to leave
for home. He drew together the pa
pers on which he had been idly spec
ulating, making estimates of his re
turns from the season’s shearing,
and noting the increase over last
year’s gains. The season had be
gun auspiciously. He swung quick
ly about in his chair as a slight
sound came to him from the door.
Autumn Dean stood there in her
black riding habit, a russet scarf at
her throat, the dim light casting lit
tle facets on her brown leather
boots. Her hat was in her hand, and
her hair had blown free. Her face
was a glowing cameo against the
outer darkness.
"Am I intruding?" she asked, en
tering almost hesitatingly. "One of
your men told me I should find you
here.”
Bruce got up hurriedly and drew
out the other chair. A flush had
mounted to his brows, and as he
stood for a moment uncertainly be
fore her, he drew his hand diffi
dently back across his hair.
“You certainly aren’t intruding,”
he said. “I was just wasting time—
with figures. But wherever did you
come from?”
She seated herself and tossed her
hat upon the table.
"Out in the hills,” she said. "We
had an early dinner, and I took a
ride out for a look at the sheep. The
men left for the range this morn- j
ing. The evening was so soft and
cool—I just couldn’t go indoors. I
came deliberately to see you after
I got back. You see—I’m a bold
woman. Bruce!"
"I’m glad you are! I’ve been as
lonely as hell tonight. With the men
all gone—’’
“Loneliness is in the air, I guess.
The sound of that darn bell did for
me.”
"Bell?"
“That bell I got from Hector, you
know. I gave it to a young Irish lad
that father hired last week.”
"You mean you sent that Basque
bell of Hector’s into the hills? You'd
better not tell Hector that.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think Hec- i
tor would understand. That bell
wasn’t meant to hang in a drawing
room.”
“But it’s such a precious thing—
out On the range all summer—”
“It will come back. It's charmed.
Anyhow—I like the idea.”
Bruce lit a cigarette and Autumn,
watching him, thought how well- !
shaped and brown his hands were.
“May I have one?” she asked.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “You see,
in spite of myself, I still think of
you as the little schoolgirl I used to
know.”
"The one you fought for?” she
asked as she accepted a light
“The same,” he replied.
“You’ll have to get over that
Bruce,” she told him. 'Tm very
much grown up.”
"Perhaps I’m afraid o* getting
over it,” he said bluntly.
“Why?"
“Because—as a woman ytvfve
been in my mind constantly ever
since I saw you again that flrst j
night.” Bruce leaned forward slight- I
ly and looked directly into her eyes.
Her glance fell slowly, and a lin« of
quick pain appeared between her
brows.
“And that frightens you, Bruce''”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
4
Separate Fur Pieces Go Well
With Bright Wool Costumes
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
THIS is the season of gracious
lady fashions. To be sure, cas
ual, sportsy dress has its rightful
place in the picture, but the clothes
that center the present fall and win
ter costume pageantry proclaim the
dawn of a new era of elegance that
calls for painstaking planning and
individualized styling, reflecting dig
nity, high tone and the exquisitely
feminine throughout costume de
sign.
First and foremost the accent is
on fabric elegance. To the hand
some materials that fashion de
mands this season add color en
chantment rife with autumnal beau
ty. Embellish the entire with lavish
and luxuriant fur and you will have
envisioned the picture as heralded
on the style program for the com
ing months.
Never has there been a more en
trancing display of woolens. Not
only are the various weaves, es
pecially tweeds, superbly colorful
within themselves but the ingenious
and intriguing ways in which design
ers are working out contrasts and
blends is adding infinite color fas
cination to current modes.
Then, too, fur treatments are so
varied and so unusual as to be al
most spectacular from the stand
point of originality and versatility.
If you have been treasuring a bit
of handsome fur now is the time to
bring it out.
Especially smart this season are
separate fur pieces such as the de
tachable plastron of soft gray squir.
rel that gives flattering effect to the
dark coat shown to the left in the
picture. Plastrons of fur, such as
here pictured, are definitely new.
Most of them reach only to the
waistline, but in some Instances
they extend all the way down the
front.
The fur hat has become an out
standing theme among milliners.
With it you are supposed to carry
a matching ^nuff as you see below
to the left in the group. This stun
ning twosome is fashioned of hand
some fox. Wear it with the new
suit or your best long cloth coat for
your dressiest moments.
A luxurious stole of light colored
lynx dresses up the beige wool coat
to the right. Rich brown acces
sories are worn. The halo brim of
a cinnamon colored felt hat is graced
with a long brown veil. The fact
that fur stoles have been revived
this season is of untold style sig
nificance.
Pictured to the right below is a
delightful example of fur and fabric
alliance. The action-free long
jacket is of beaver-dyed coney with
bright wool plaid lining to match
the dress and hat. With the football
season in full swing a costume of
this type comes into its own with
a flourish. This type of jacket suit
is ideal for autumn wear and the
beauty of it is the fur coat can be
worn with any dress or suit.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Black Is Stylish
A simple black foundation frock
is a fashion “must” this faLL Fash
ion has made almost an arbitrary
rule that the initial “buy” for fall
be a black frock styled with ut
most simplicity. The model pic
tured is typical. This chic dress
of chiffon-weight black jersey has
the new Balenciaga neckline, filled
in with a chalk white necklace
strung on gold metal. A dress of
this sort is exactly the type that
will show off the new massive gold
Jewelry to perfection, when you feel
the urge of a change from the un
failing chic of black with white.
Note the ribbon trim on the black
hat. Ribbons are enjoyihg a tre
mendous vogue
Lace for Evening
Meets With Favor
No matter what silhouette he fol
lows, whether pencil slim or very
full, Molyneaux’s newest collection
of evening dresses shows a decided
favor for lace. Lace is combined
with velvet, satin or wool, or it is
used simply and severely alone.
One gown has a black lace bodice
with pink ribbon shoulder straps
and a satin skirt made full with
godets applied with narrow lace in
sertions. For a coat and dress cos
tume he reverses the usual com
bination of a heavy coat over a light
dress and makes a long loose coat
of violet lace to be worn over a
dress of violet wool.
Tone-on-Tone Hint
Favored for Fall
Very new and as yet exclusive,
but bound to develop into an impor
tant vogue is the effective tone-on
tone-on-tone effects which are to be
seen this fall. The idea is to carry
out the entire costume in several
tones of the same color. The new
grape of blackberry color works out
beautifully, and brown that goes
dark for the jacket, lighter for the
skirt, still lighter for the tie girdle
and lightest of all, even unto a pale
beige tint, is the blouse. Greens,
wines and any of the dark colors
yield effectively to the tone-on-tone
theory.
Red and Black Is
New Hat Fashion
A bright red bird with outspread
wings atop a black felt hat spells
"style" in capital letters. A huge
red velvet bow on a black draped i
turban offers another approach to
high style, this season.
With your black daytime frock
wear a stunning red suede belt A
red suede blouse with your knitted
black suit will prove equally as style
assuring.
Handy Small Table
Made of Camp Stool
By RUTH WYETH SPEARS
UAVE you ever wished for a
11 small, low table that would
appear from nowhere and dis
appear again when you were
through with it? Have you ever
thought it would be nice if Fa
ther’s ottoman could be folded up
and put out of the way when not
in use? Or perhaps you have un
packed a suit case in a guest
room and wished for something
STAIN AND
THEN WAX
other than the bed; a chair or
the floor to put it on during the
process?
A camp stool plus a tray to fit
the top makes a very satisfactory
small table to place beside a
game table or to set up for your
books or mending basket by your
favorite chair. But be sure to
dress it up so that it will look its
best either when in use or when
folded up and placed in some
out of the way comer. A rem
nant of material and some up
holstery braid will do the trick.
Stain and wax are suggested for
the base as paint might be marred
in folding the stool.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Mrs. Spears
has prepared for our readers a
booklet containing 32 useful and
practical suggestions for beautify
ing the home; with step-by-step
directions clearly illustrated. To
get one of these useful booklets,
just send name and address, with
10 cents in coin to Mrs. Spears,
210 S. Desplaines St., Chicago, 111.
Cranberry Maple Syrup Pie.
1 tablespoon flour
1 cup maple syrup
2 cups fresh cranberries
Pie pastry
Line an 8-inch plate with pastry.
Sprinkle flour over bottom crust
and add maple syrup. Top with
whole raw cranberries. Cover with
pastry, press edges together and
brush top of crust with milk. Bake
in hot oven, 400* Fahrenheit—about
40 minutes.
Boundary Markers
Between the United States and
Canada, the 3,100 miles of land
boundary are marked by 5,483
monuments, or an average of one
every 2,985 feet, while the 2,400
miles of water boundary are iden
tified by 2,530 reference marks, or
an average of one every 5,009 feet.
—Collier’s.
Dr. Pierce’s Pleasant Pellets are an
effective laxative. Sugar coated.
Children like them. Buy now!—Adv.
All in Time
No rock so hard but that a little
wave may beat admission in a
thousand years.—Tennyson.
/
Why Let Yourself
Get Constipated?
Why endure those dull headachy
days due to constipation, plus the
Inevitable trips to the medicine
chest, IX you can avoid both by
getting at the cause of the trouble?
If your constipation, like that
of millions. Is due to lack of
“bulk” In the diet, the "better
way” Is to eat Kellogg’s All-Bran.
This crunchy toasted breakfast
cereal Is the ounce of prevention
that's worth a pound of emer
gency relief. It helps you not only
to get regular but to keep regular,
day after day and month after
month, by the pleasantest means
you ever knew.
i Eat Kellogg's All-Bran every
day, drink plenty of water, and
see if you don’t forget all about
constipation. Made by Kellogg's
in Battle Creek. Sold by every
grocer.
Ignorant Belief
Men are most apt to believg
what they least understand.—Mon
taigne.
-----;
WHEN kidneys function badly and1
you suffer a nagging backache,!
with dininess, burning, scanty or too
frequent urination and getting up at
night; when you feel tired, nervous,;
all upset . . . use Doan's Pills.
Doan's are especially for poorly;
working kidneys. Millions of boxes
are used every year. They are recom
mended the country over. Ask your
neighbor!