Vanuhed Men
(y GEORGE MARSH wSoUKftJ c“
INSTALLMENT NINETEEN
THE STORY SO FAR: Six men trav
eled the Chibougamau trail and tlx
men died. Later they were report
ed drowned. Murder is suspected.
Garry Finlay, brother of one of the six;
Red Malone, Mounted Police officers.
and Blaise, half-breed guide, posing as
surveyors, arrive at Nottaway to Inves
tigate. Isadora, rich fur man, Is thought
to have made a gold strike and alms to
keep prospectors out. They visit Isadore
at his magnificent home and meet Lise,
his stepdaughter. Finlay quickly falls In
love with her. Later they are attacked
by Indians. Escaping they make prep
arations to seize a mysterious seaplane
which Is expected to arrive on the lake.
Meanwhile Lise Joins them for safety.
w w w
They stood on the gravel beach
and Blaise pointed across the lake
to the western hills where a dull glow
streaked the violet sky.
“Why, it’s a forest fire!" ex
claimed Finlay.
“You suppose Wabistan’s behind
this?”
"That’s just what I suppose.
Red!”
On the second day the yellow
smudge of sun glowed dully through
a shroud of smoke. Leaving Lise in
camp, the three men, with Pata
mish, started in the Peterboro for
Isadore's.
They landed below the post and
put Patamish ashore to And Lise’s
hidden clothes bag, learn what he
could and return at once.
“What’s that, Garry?”
“It’s that overdue plane! Come
on! He’s caught and can’t see where
to set her down!”
“Give him three shots. Red! He
could circle and set her down south
of us if this breeze would only stiff
en!”
The Lee-EnAeld crashed three
times.
“He heard our shots!” He’s cir
cling!” With the rush of a great
bird the plane shot past the canoe,
caught the water with a splash and
bobbed on ahead to disappear into
the smoke haze.
Finlay shook his lifted paddle.
“We’ve got him! Come on! They
may start hunting him from Isa
dore’s.”
As the boat moved up to a pon
toon a voice called from the open
door of the cabin fuselage: "That
you, Isadore? I’ve been lost two
hours hunting—”
"Don’t move a hand!" Red
rasped. ‘Come out on the pontoon,
one hand in the air!"
"What the—what’s wrong here!"
objected the astonished pilot* "This
is Waswanipi, ain’t it? Where’s Is
adore?”
“Come out on—that—pontoon—
or—”
"Say, what’s this, a case of high
jack? Who are you birds? Where’s
Isadore?”
Finlay flung back from the door
of the fuselage: "We’re Mounted Po
lice and you're under arrest!”
"Good Gawd!” The pilot’s face
dropped into his hands.
Finlay peered into the freight
compartment of the plane. "Look,
Red! She’s loaded with cases.”
“Now what in the devil's this
stuff?”
"Red,” announced Garry, opening
the tinfoil wrapper of the package in
his hand, “these are nothing else
than bricks of opium, worth one
hundred and fifty dollars apiece in
Amsterdam. What Isadore gets for
them, God only knows! We’ve
struck Isadore's gold, Red! And
what a strike!”
Red’s blue eyes bulged as he
stared at the opium brick in Fin
lay’s hand. "Well, I’ll be ham
strung! Faking a gold strike on
the river to cover his smuggling
dope from a ship on the Bay. That
clears up a heap!”
"It does more. We’ve solved by
accident the most baffling case of
narcotic smuggling in the history
of the Dominion police. They’ve
been watching the seaports for
years for this stuff. It was sent
from Europe by a schooner to Hud
son’s Bay, flown here and then
south. Don’t you realize that this
means a citation and promotion for
us both?”
Garry’s face sobered with mock
gravity. "You will remember, Con
stable Malone, that we have suspect
ed this from the day we reached
Waswanipi and have hung on by
our teeth for the sole purpose of
capturing this shipment and break
ing up this ring of smugglers.”
"In a bear’s left eye I will! We’ve
> been after Isadore for murder and
still are. But chief, Mrs. Thistle
Malone will never know that her
red-headed husband isn’t as clever
as he looks.
» • • • • •
Towing the plane, they groped
their way into a cove and anchored
it to makeshift buoys. At the camp
on the mainland Wabistan was wait
ing.
"If the wind holds, the fire will
reach Isadore’s," said Finlay.
Wabistan’s face wore the innocent
look of a child. "Yes, Isadore will
burn.”
"You set that fire, chief!”
A pained expression spread over
the gnarled features of the old man.
He shook his head in dissent.
Finlay’s eyes twinkled. "Whoev
er did it, chief, was a personal
friend of mine. The fire will take
most of Isadore’s men into the bush,
today, and give us our chance. Now,
let’s move.”
Finlay and Red, wearing service
blouses, belts and Stetson hats, hur
ried with Blaise to the living quar
ters. They stood in the doorway of
the large living room. At a table
on which stood bottles and glasses,
two men sat arguing with voices
hoarse from prolonged drinking.
"We’ve got to get out of here,
right away!” A large man with a
soft face, white from indoor living,
' pounded his fist on the table, un
* * * Vf * Tf
conscious of the two watching in the
doorway. "Jules, this place is
doomed! Look at the smoke out
side!”
Isadore, who sat with back to the
doorway, sneered: "That’s from the
back-fire Tete-Blanche started! Fe
lix, you’re yellow! It won’t reach
us! We’ll stop it on the ridge.”
"I’m going to get out, I tell you!”
whined Blondell.
"You're drunk!” snarled Isadore.
Then, catching the raw terror in
Blondell’s stare, he wheeled in his
chair to meet Finlay's stone-hard
face.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen!”
Isadore sat frozen. "Mounted Po
lice! So this is what you were?
Damn me for a fool!”
"Okay!” snapped Malone.
The police approached the two
waiting men.
"Keep your hands still, Isadore!”
snarled Red.
"We’ve got your plane from the
Bay!” Finlay bit off. "That gives
us our motive. Didn’t want it known
in Montreal—that plane from the
north! Don’t blame you! They’ve
been wondering where that dope
came from! Well, you’re going to
hang for those six men!”
Isadore shook his head as he met
the stab of Finlay’s pitiless eyes.
“No, Jules Isadore will never
hang!”
The sound of voices in the rear
of the house put the police on their
guard. "Watch this door!” warned
Malone as he flattened against the
wall beside the closed door.
The door was swung wide and,
covered with char and soot, the
panting Tete-Blanche stared into the
room.
His smudged face flamed as his
bloodshot eyes marked Finlay stand
ing over the two men. Ignoring the
.45, with a lightning movement the
half-breed reached behind his back
and flung his hand forward with a
grunt. The knife sang like an arrow
past the chest of the dodging Fin
lay, who held his fire, and stuck
quivering in the wall beyond.
“The white-haired boy, at last!”
With a roar Red dove from the side
at the surprised breed, hurling him
headlong into the room. Like a cat
Tete-Blanche gained his feet and
closed with the trooper.
“Don’t move!" bit off Finlay, cov
ering Isadore with his .45 as the
two fought across the room.
The killer was powerful and slip
pery as a snake. Winding his legs
around Malone’s, they went to the
floor with a crash. Fighting with
the strength of despair again and
again Tete-Blanche wriggled out of
the jiu-jitsu grips Red started to
put on him. Then the enraged Ma
lone wrenched his right hand free
and hunched his fist into Tete
Blanche’s jaw. But the panting kill
er only snarled and redoubled his ef
forts to break the trooper’s hold.
By sheer strength the infuriated
Mountie pinned his man to the floor,
forced back his chin and jammed
his thumbs deep into the vital pneu
mo-gastric nerves under the jaw. A
shudder ran through the half-breed
and he lay helpless from the shock.
Malone lifted him, rose, and hurled
him headlong into the stone fire
place.
“There’s your killer, Isadore!
He’ll shoot no more boys from am
bush! Take him! He’s yours!”
Isadore’s face was drained of col
K- W
or as his dulled eyes stared at the
sprawled heap on the hearth. Then
he slowly nodded as he muttered:
“Yes, there he is! There he is!
A’voir, good and faithful servant!”
With a quick movement his hand
shot to the desk drawer, fumbled,
then found his mouth before the
surprised Finlay seized him. He
swallowed twice then sneered into
Finlay’s face: “No rope for Jules
Isadore! I prefer prussic to hemp!
Good-night, gentlemen!”
“Tie the hands of that lump ol
flesh in the chair by the name of
Blondell and we’ll find Blaise. We
must work fast or we’ll be caught.”
Finlay hurried to the shore where
he found Wabistan at the boats,
with the prisoners and coughing
women, their heads swathed in wet
cloths. Corinne rushed to him.
“Lise!” she cried. “Is she safe?”
"Yes, she swam to the island! I’ll
take you to her!” Garry turned to
Red. “Quick! Hop into that ship
and see that the pilot taxies her to
the island!”
In the morning the hum of an en
gine drew Garry and Blaise to the
shore.
“Who can it be, Red? Isadore
wasn’t expecting another plane.”
Red grinned. "Not that I know
of!”
Finlay scratched his head, then
turned to Blaise: "I forgot to ask
you. What became of Batoche? I
asked Wabistan but none of his men
had seen him.”
Blaise slowly traced the white scar
across his temple with a thick fin
ger. “Batoche, he come and crawl
aroun’ to look in front window. Den
I reach him!”
“Where are your glasses, Red?”
His eyes snapping with amuse
ment Malone handed his glasses to
his chief.
• Blue ooay: xeuow wings: wny,
it’s one of ours, Red! It’s a police
plane! The Mounties are here!”
The plane was set down and tax
ied up to the waiting canoe.
The cabin door opened and a red
jacketed man with a grizzled mous
tache leaned out and waved. "Hi,
Sergeant Finlay! Are you all right?”
Garry Finlay thrilled with pride
as he replied: "Everything okay,
Inspector Haldaned”
Shortly Finlay was telling his sto
ry to the inspector and the four
men of the rescue party. When he
finished, Haldane enthusiastically
reached and clapped him on the
back.
"Do you realize what you’ve done
against what looked like hopeless
odds? You two men have broken the
biggest ring of opium smugglers the
Canadian police have ever had to
deal with!”
Later, when good-bys had been
said, Wabistan sat in the Peterboro
loaded with supplies which Finlay
had given him. With Mikisis and
Patamish, he waved to the climb
ing plane carrying Garry, Lise and
Corinne.
Followed by the two planes carry
ing Red, Blaise and the prisoners,
bound for Matagami to take the
depositions of McNab and his head
man, the police plane circled into
the west. For a space in silence
Finlay gazed back into the north
east where dim, blue hills marked
the Waswanipi valley. Lise watched
him curiously as he stiffened, lifted
his hand in salute and said:
"Good-by, Bob! The Chibougamau
Trail is clear!”
[THE END]
Rayon Fabrics Make Lounging
Apparel to Fit Modest Budget
By CHERIE NICHOLAS
WE’RE all so busy these
days, we appreciate
more than ever the few pre
cious hours when we can re
lax. Smart, flattering clothes
for stay-at-home moments
add immeasurably to the enjoyment
of playing at being a lady of leisure.
Thanks to the many fine rayon fab
rics now available, there is luxurious
lounging wear this season within the
reach of every woman’s clothes
budget.
Unless you have explored the pos
sibilities of dramatic at-home cos
tumes, you will have no idea what
they can do for your looks and your
morale. Whether you’re a busy wife
and mother, or a tailored career
woman, or a defense worker who
has worn a uniform or practical,
functional clothes, a graceful loung
ing costume will transform you into
a clinging vine in the twinkling of an
eye. For informal entertaining, for
instance, such formal fabrics as
crush-resistant rayon velvet, soft
rayon satin, and svelte rayon jersey
are draped and molded into gracious
hostess gowns and strikingly trou
sered. Bejeweled or unadorned, dra
matic or appealing, these lovely
styles reflect the trend towards lux
urious effects.
For a quiet evening at home, or a
quiet morning or afternoon, there
are enchanting styles in house
coats, lounging robes, and negligees
that are not only comfortable but
look as well in the dining room as
they do in the boudoir. Rayon jer
sey and velvet reappear in these
fashions, as do rustling rayon taf
fetas, smooth rayon crepes and
weaves. Wrap-around coat types are
popular for the girl who likes her
housecoat to do double duty as a
dressing gown. The shirt-waist or
round-necked styles look like frocks
but have long concealed or zippered
closings and may be slipped into
with the greatest of ease.
Any college girl who happens to
be the possessor of a cozy quilted
lounging coat of crisp rayon taffeta
in a gay plaid like that pictured to
the right in the above illustration
will be the envy of her classmates
as she flits about in the dormitory or
cuddles up in a big "comfy” chair
in her room. The tailored collar
may be worn snugly closed on cool
mornings and the wide skirt flares
nicely from a slim sashed waistline.
For extra warmth there are
adaptable breakfast coats and loung
ing robes in luscious rayon taffeta,
moire or satin, cosily quilted and cut
on flattering fitted and flared lines
with nice tailored details. For lux
urious lounging the quilted house
coat centered in the picture above
uses soft rayon satin in a colorful
floral print. A snug set-in waistband
with double-breasted buttoning ac
cents the full, flared skirt. In a more
intimate mood, matching gown and
negligee sets in pastels and white
are exquisite in fine rayon crepe or
satin with lavish lace trim.
With luxurious rayon fabrics pro
viding exciting grandeur, glamour is
the keynote for at-home fashions
such as the handsome hostess gown
shown in the left in the picture
above. This distinctive and gracious
gown combines two high-fashion
notes in its dramatic use of suave
rayon jersey for fluid molded styl
ing, plus a glorification of the
sweater jacket for informal evening
wear. In striking Chinese red, the
soft rayon jersey is swathed snugly
about the bodice and draped in sleek
folds for the full, full skirt. Long
sweeping lines are complemented by
full bishop sleeves caught tight at
the wrist. Brilliant red stones set
in gold gleam from every square of
the matching knit wool bolero with
its shoulder-accenting cap sleeves.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
For Leisure
Of course you’ll be wanting a
“brunch” coat. It is a short-skirted
version of the ever-popular house
coat. The versatile little brunch
coat as shown above is designed to
turn the most demure housewife into
a beguiling glamour girl. In crisp,
brightly plaided rayon taffeta the
skirt is cut on dirndl lines, zips up
the back, ties at the waist and is
ready to make you look beautiful.
The Stocking Future?
It Couldn't Be Brighter
Just because there is a lull in the
silk supply and a possible shortage
of nylon because of “priorities,"
there’s no reason to worry about
hosiery futures. The inflow of stock
ing fashions that make use of cot
ton, lisle and spun rayon meshes
is most heartening. You will be
wanting a pair of the new tweed
rayons to wear with your spring
suit. Lisles and cottons come in
ribbed effects and in small checks.
We will probably be wearing dainty
white cotton hose this summer, too.
The thinnest of thin navy sheers are
smart with navy suits. And nylons
in a lace weave are also scheduled
for summer.
Bolero
Here’s good news for bolero lov
ers. It looks as though the bolero
is going to win out as a special fa
vorite this spring. One of its newer
uses is with all 'round pleated
skirts. When it is worn with long
torso and slim princess dresses the
bolero is very, very short.
Spring Tid-Bits
Pottery, shells and wooden blocks
decorate the jewelry counters al
ready laden with accessories for
spring. There are pale beige shell
necklaces and bracelets, shell
brooches, wooden beads the color of
sunlit sand, and some giddy wooden
cylinders wrapped with cellophane.
Sequins
Colorful sequins add glamour to
evening prints. A few dressy after
noon prints also reflect the sparkle
of sequins. You’ll love the new
prints with huge realistic roses on
black or navy grounds.
By VIRGINIA VALE
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Hollywood may not see
Katharine Hepburn work
ing before its cameras again
for some time; she left when
she finished “Woman of the
Year” with no plans for
making more pictures, but
with plenty for doing that
new play; if it runs as long
as "Philadelphia Story” did she
won’t be ready for pictures again for
more than two years.
Incidentally, Spencer Tracy—who
also wants to do a play, if he can find
the right one—had his hair cut for
that new Hepburn picture, the first
time he’s done that since 1935, when
he had a haircut for "Murder Man,”
KATHARINE HEPBURN
which he made with Myma Loy;
think back and you’ll remember that
he’s been doing “unshaven and un
shorn” roles, a long string of them.
-*
Case investigators on the air’s
“Are You a Missing Heir” program
travel thousands of miles and spend
hundreds of dollars in search of those
heirs — so Imagine their surprise
when a legatee turned up practically
under their noses; she’s Agatha
Friederick, and is a script-writer for
the agency handling the Heirs pro
gram.
-*
We know only that "the studio has
made some concessions” in that dif
fcreqpe of opinion between Deanna
Durbin and Universal that’s kept her
off the screen all this time. Last Oc
tober it was reported that she was
demanding the right to choose her
vehicles and approve her leading
men and directors—when a star
takes things into her own hands that
way she’s usually on the skids that
lead to oblivion. Now she’s set to
make pictures again. Her husband,
Vaughn Paul, will not change his
mind about his resignation as a Uni
versal producer.
-*
John Payne replaces Victor Ma
ture in 20th Century Fox’s “White
Collar Girl,” in which he plays oppo
site Betty Grable. The picture is
scheduled to get under way soon,
with John Brahm directing.
-*
It seems to be children's day at
the Columbia studios. Baby Davy
James, the infant Marlene Dietrich
didn’t drop in “The Lady Is Willing,"
has a new contract with options that
cover a total of 21 years; now a year
old, he’s known professionally as
“Wonder Baby Corey,” his name in
that picture. And 15-day-old Norma
Jean Wayne is working in “Blondie’s
Blessed Event.”
-*
That bartender whom you’ll see
with Richard Arlen and Arline Judge
in “Wildcat” once had his day as a
famous man. He is Tom Kennedy,
and once upon a time he fought Jack
Johnson for the world’s heavyweight
championship.
-*
Speaking of war pictures—Para
mount bought a story called “Chan
nel Port” way back last April, and
now is going to do something about
it. It will be filmed in England, and
executives are hoping to get Lau
rence Olivier or David Niven for the
lead. It’s a Commando story; the
hero’s a long-distance swimmer, who
swims the channel from France to
England with important information.
Columbia grabbed the title, “The
Commandos,” first, however; their
story deals with an American boy
who becomes one of that daring
band, and a girl in Norway who
heads an underground movement
against the invaders—one more ‘boy
meets girl” plot, in a new setting.
-*
“Bedtime Story' has a parallel in
real life; Helen Hayes’ announce
ment that she would retire for two
years was contradicted by her hus
band, Charles MacArthur, who has
a new play for her. Same plot as the
picture!
-*
ODDS AND ENDS—Band bookers
are optimistic, despite the war—Sammy
Kaye, for example, has been booked
through January, 1943 . A pre-view
audience liked Donna Reed so much in
“The Courtship of Andy Hardy” that
the picture was given a new ending, a
happy one for her In Universal’s
“Wake Up and Dream” bandleader
Woody Herman not only makes his film
bow but dances a bit for the custom
ers Joan Crawford’s salary for the
role that was to have been Carole Lom
bard’s in “He Kissed the Bride”—
S112J00—will all go to charitable or
ganizations . . . “Sullivan’s Travels” is
not only very funny; it has a me.ssaae.
CLASSIFIED
DEPARTMENT
BEAUTY SCHOOL
Enroll Now. Nebraska’s Oldest School.
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Wool Production
Through scientific breeding the
average weight of fleece wool
sheared annually from American
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eight pounds, or 300 per cent, in
the past 100 years.
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I I There’s nothing wrong with THAT! Dis
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•
Our Business
To turn all that we possess into
the channels of universal love be
comes the business of our lives.—
John Woolman.
11
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