Pil*/\tESHE/\D ISh ISABEL WAITT^^'sr* THE STORY SO FAR: Judy Jason, who l« telling the story, receive* an anonymous letter enclosing $800 and ask ing her to bid fur an abandoned church to be auctioned the next day. The body of a man identified as Roddy Lane is found in a chest in the basement of the church, but disappears a few hours later. A fish shed burns, apparently killing an old man named Brown who Is supposed to have lived there, and Uncle Wylie’s pipe is found near the burned shed. Evi dence has also been found against Bes sie Norcross, her brother Hugh, Albion Potter and the Reverend Jonas DeWitt, when the anonymous letter mysterious ly disappears. Now continue with Judy’s story. CHAPTER X Victor's hand was on the door knob. "You keep close to me, Judy.” I flushed again. "But I don't see —we could always get them to give us a sample of their penmanship. I remember the funny capital F in Friend; it had a flourish on it.” Victor might have been speaking to a child. “The point is, my dear, that the comparison is no longer important—with the original gone. But it lets Lane and Brown out, in a way, and a possible third-party killer in. Don’t you see?” “I thought you believed that all the time, the way you were question ing everybody, Mr. Quade.” "Let me handle this. You keep mum. Maybe I'll spring a trap. Bills are from all over the country, and none in sequence, just as 1 sur mised. Smart boy, this criminal!” He reached over and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Be careful, won't you?” I ll stick like a burr, I smiled thinly, following him out into the hall. Then I hurried upstairs and stuck the cash in my bureau drawer and raced down. Chowder or no chowder, I was going with the bunch this time. They could eat canned soup if Auntie couldn’t manage alone. Besides, Victor had whetted my curiosity almost as much as my fear by the warning he’d given me. I had no intention of staying behind and being grabbed and searched by some unknown assassin while the menfolk were down by the Pirates Mouth. I simply couldn’t believe the murderer was one of our guests, and my own guess would have been that Lane was responsible. We found the gang gathered around Albion Potter, who was dab bing at his little church picture. "Your aunt gave me some kero sene," he beamed. "Ain’t it swell?" shrilled Lily Ken dall. "Fine," I said, wondering who on earth would want it after what had happened there. “If you like It, I’ll give it to you, Miss Jason," Potter said shyly. "Well, I'd be delighted, Mr. Pot ter.” I tried to sound sincere. "Do one for me and I’ll pay you $25," Lily said. "I’m dyin’ to have one to show my niece." "Twenty-five dollars!" Albion was overcome. "Miss Kendall, I’ll be gin it at once. Unless Judy—Miss Jason," he corrected himself hur riedly, "will let me give you this one and do her another. Fact is. I could use that money for an easel.” "Sure. Sell every chance you get.” I ran down the steps where Mr. Quincy was thumping his cane and hollering, “Well, well—what are we waiting for?" We were waiting for Hugh Nor cross. He fluttered an orange square of silk at his sister. "Tie your hair up with this, Bess. You’re right, that blue scarf has vanished. What of it? Get another for half a dollar.” "You could not I paid two-seven ty-five for that scarf last Christ mas. And it isn’t in any of my things, because I've hunted.” "Well, it doesn’t matter,” Hugh said crossly. "I wish you’d cheese it about that old scarf in the midst of—" They started on ahead. Bessie, although the morning was growing warmer every minute, so that I was comfortable in my sleeveless print, stJl wore her bespotted white sports coat. The minister’s eyes kept glancing over his shoulder at Mr. Quincy, who worked his wheels while Lily Kendall guided the chair. She kept up her incessant chatter with all of them, but especially Mr. Potter. Could he do a portrait of her in her pink lace with crystal beads? No. the crystals, come to think of it, were broken. The jet would do. He could? She offered him $50 and he said, boy! would I wait for my church picture till he’d earned that? "Gladly." “You, or rather, Mrs. Gerry, will get some of it back. If—if 1 get a few commissions, I'll stay longer at the Head. It's so beautiful here." I glanced at him and smiled. Maybe some of the other boarders would follow suit and Aunt Nella’s season wouldn’t be ruined, after all. But as we neared the cliff where you take the treacherous path down into the Pirate's Mouth, he held back, shaking his head. "Not for me. I’ve that what-d’you-call-it-pho bia—when you're afraid of high places? I wouldn't go down there for even $100." "Nor I,” Bessie agreed, drawing back. "Why should anybody go down?” I asked. "You can see into the Pi rate’* Mouth by coming over-to this rock and leaning over. You do it, Mr. Quade. Mr. Norcross or Mr. De Witt will hold your legs. Like kissing the blarney stone.” ‘Til look. Lemme. I don’t get hydrophobia," Lily screamed. We had to laugh, and it relieved the tension. Victor Quade lay down on the rock, but Lily grinned back at us. “Oh, go ahead and laugh. High, ain’t it? Of course I know hydro phobia is really what they call it when people play sick all the time. Like my niece, before she got in pictures. What I meant was cliff tomania.” She flung her full bulk alongside Victor, till I held my breath lest she shove him into the deep. But in an other moment Victor rose, shaking his dark head disappointedly. “Nobody down there on that shelf. Not a thing, so far as I could see, with the fissure at the far end and the ocean below. What a frightful place! Either way, a thin person might roll off into the sea.” “Used to be called Lovers Nook,” Bessie sighed. She walked away rapidly toward the church steps, with Hugh following to console her, as per usual. “Won’t somebody help Miss Ken dall up?” I asked. But Lily yelled. "Don’t touch me!! I—I can get up myself." It took her quite a time. The men turned away, politely, while the hot She (lung her full bulk alongside Victor. roistering land breeze played with her ballooning skirts. But finally the behemoth came panting up to me. “Somethin's rotten in Denmark!" she hissed. "Keep away from that Quade feller!” Keep away from Victor? What could she mean? I was dying to make her be more explicit, but she shook her rigid marcel at me for biddingly. “Not now!!” This time the hiss, whispered so that I don't see how anybody could have failed to over hear it, was a command. It's only a few steps from the top of the cliff overhanging the vi cious Pirate's Mouth to the site of the Quaker church. The inn guests were making toward Bessie and Hugh, seated on the steps. Victor came back beside Lily Kendall, who immediately switched to the other side of me. “Great bootleggers’ cache—that big shelf of rock, Judy.” “Yes. Uncle Wylie said the coast guard found some stuff hidden down there during prohibition. The boot leggers, fearing a raid, had tried the Pirate's Mouth, but somebody must have tipped them off.” Victor wasn’t looking at me, 1 no ticed. He was watching Lily Ken dall. Why? She was marching, eyes and bosom front, like a grenadier. “Well, even the police wouldn't find anything today,” he sighed, giv ing her a side glance. She only pressed her lips tighter together. “What did you expect to find— Roddy Lane?” I asked. “Or old man Brown?” Mr. Quincy spoke up. He was looking at his watch. “Why, it's only five minutes of 9. Never saw a morning last so long or fly so fast, either." "I'm practically starved,” Bessie called. “Hugh wants a look at the golf club Mr. Quade says he saw in the basement. Then we're going back to the inn. I've got to have an aspirin.” “Why don't you go along back now?" Victor asked. “I'm sure—er —Miss Kendall will be glad to go with you.” "Sorry. Miss Kendall stays.” This w’as the first time I'd heard Lily snap out of her kittenish role. “With the gang,” she added, her lower lip protruding till she looked positively menacing. “Wise lady,” Victor shrugged. “I'll wait for my brother,” Bessie said with finality. “Are we all to go down to that horrible cellar?” “Why, of course not. Better if nobody went,” Victor explained. “There is a club there. May be your brother’s, maybe not Doesn’t prove a thing either way. What I thought was blood may be rust, per haps, though I don't think so. The police will be ripping if we mess around too much. This is certain— none of us wants to leave fresh j prints on anything down there.” "I wish I could go!" Thaddeus ! Quincy regretted plaintively. “Take the same committee you bad be- i fore and have another look, Quade. ; And you men do what he tells you. He’s up in this murder stuff and the rest of us aren’t.” “Thanks for that double-edger. Victor Quinn accepts the compli ment. Victor Quade has his doubts. I gave Victor the key and the crowd piled into the little old musty church. Goodness! How dark it was! The cobwebby windows, with their darkly stained glass, showed scarce ly any light at all. The vestibule was light enough where the sun streamed through, but save for that bright patch of searchlight sun down the main aisle, the pews were al most in a tomb till your eyes got— did I say tomb? Tomb is right! Lily astonishingly took command. "Why should the men have all the fun? Come on, Judy Jason. We ain’t murderers. We don’t play golf. Let’s us take a peek. Why give the real killer a chance to take his hanky and give the stick a swipe?" Good idea, several conceded. Vic tor didn’t like it. He was afraid we’d disturb the position of things, but Lily was already waddling down the main aisle. The Rev. De Witt surprised us by announcing he was going outside with his glasses to take a squint at the bridge. The milkman might be early. Picnickers might be arriving at the Head. Was it likely everybody was sleeping late after the night before celebration? And, look, he’d seen boats in the harbor. Not close, of course. But couldn’t we signal? Build a Are—? He stopped, remem bering last night’s, I suppose, and the uselessness of such procedure on the Fourth of July. "Go along out and shoot off a cou ple of rockets,” the artist added facetiously. Shall we help him, Mr. Quade?” "Why not? You’ve no call to stay here. It’s occurred to me that the auction—” That’s all I heard. Lily and I took the narrow crooked basement stairs. She had to turn sidewise, once, but she made it. I was glad Victor had given me back my flash light. Even by daylight, that dank, rocky floored hole is spooky. Lily stood quaking on the bottom stair while I tiptoed to the sea chest, closed now, and as innocent-looking as when I’d knelt in front of it and tried to wheedle the lock with a bobby pin. Only now the lock hung open. I played my torch down the space between the chest and the wall. Sure enough, there was the golf club! I didn’t want to touch it. The blood was unmistakable. It gave me the jitters. “Come here, Miss Kendall. Look at this.” She came, quivering, and leaned down to pick it up. "Wait.” I handed her my hand kerchief. "Use this. Just see if there are initials on the end and put it right back.” "Plain as day!” Lily gasped. “But I don’t believe that nice Mr. Nor" cross did any killin’—not after what I saw in—” "Hurry up, you girls.” We both whirled at the sound of Victor’s voice. Neither of us had heard him come down the stairs, but there he stood. I could hear the babble of voices above and the lash ing of the sea outside. “Coming,” I said, but Lily stood glaring at him. "They’re going to re-enact the auction.” Victor whispered added caution to me: "You keep mum about the letter. Let me. Coming, Miss Kendall?” He started to stand aside on the stair to let her pass; then, seeing the futility, he went along up. "O. K.,” Lily said. "I’m right behind you. But you can’t tell me that nice Hugh Norcross—” Bessie cut in, chillingly: "So it was Hugh’s club!” She was leaning down at the head of the stairs, the way I’d seen her that night she told me about the missing turpentine. | Whenever I think of Bessie Nor cross I see her brooding white face leaning over stairs, listening. “And it doesn’t prove a thing,” Victor said, comfortingly. "Sure, it don't, honey,” Lily pant ! ed. “Proves he's innocent, if you ask me. The feller that done it left it on purpose. Your brother would 'a' thrown his into the sea to wash off the blood, if nothin' more.” “Then Quade was right?" Mr. Quincy, who’d been wheeled into the main aisle, worked his way nearer. “There was blood on it?" he asked. "Br-r-r-r-r-r! No doubt about it j Somebody’s done you dirt, Hugh I Norcross.” Hugh grabbed my arm, while Bes sie clung to the other one of his. “Dear, I wish you’d go back to the inn,” he said. (TO BE CONTINUED) Water, and How It Fits Into Our Lives Man Should Use it Wisely at All Times _ Water is as indispensable to man as air, and if all the moisture were ; removed from the earth and from the atmosphere, all life would cease. Water enters into every phase of human life and man uses it for many and varied purposes. How ever, people are hardly conscious of water, especially in the East, until it fails—until they turn on the faucet and find it dry. When the Indians fished in the Ohio river it was a clear and lei surely stream flowing between tow ering tree-tops and dense brushy banks. White men then took over the land and cut the trees to make way for civilization. During the passing years, the val ley lost its sponginess and became a great water-shedding net of gul lies and ditches. Less than 200 years Filling bottles with milk from a mechanical bottle filler. after the white men came, the peace ful Ohio turned into a savage snake as its brown water spread over thou sands of square miles on the way to the gulf in the spring of 1936. This was one of the greatest of many devastating Ohio floods. Similar de struction to homes and soil took place again in 1937 as water from rains and melting snow filled fields, gullies, ditches and streams leading into the Ohio. There are 300 million gullies on hillside fields and sloping ranges in the United States! During periods of prolonged or heavy rainfall everyone of these man-made chasms becomes an active waterway. Accumulation of soil materials prevents streams from carrying off water and fills reservoirs with erod ed soil, unless they are guarded. Fish cannot live in water that is filled with silt, for mud clogs their gills and mud on the stream bed buries sources of food supply. Muddied water also hampers man's recrea tional use of streams by making it unhealthful to swim in the dirty water. Nature Soon Bounces Man's Rubber Checks No matter how selfish and spend thrift men may be in managing soil wealth, they will be unable to com pletely bankrupt the universe be cause those who draw upon this hoard of wealth will find their checks returned for insufficient funds while the bank of nature still is solvent. Agronomists at Ohio State univer sity explain this seeming contradic tion by saying that nature does not have faith in man’s ability to handle unlimited wealth. The soil con tains hundreds of times the amounts of nitrogen, phosphorus, and potash removed by any series of crops but nature slams down the paying tell er’s window when destructive crop ping is overdone. Plant foods are not placed loosely in the soil so hungry plants can re move them completely in a few years. There is a certain amount of fertility in new soil that can be removed quickly by farm crops. After that bonus is removed, the re mainder of the wealth is controlled in a trust fund and can be obtained only piecemeal and by following the laws of nature. Pioneers found the soil bountiful in its returns for labor expended. Each succeeding generation has dis covered that these returns become harder to obtain unless the bounty of the soil is rewarded by a partial return of the elements it releases. Some garden spots have been tilled for more than 100 years and still yield as well as they did originally. Rural Briefs Farmers who fumigate shelled corn stored in metal bins can pro tect the grain from reinfestation by spraying the top surface with a light application of oil. • • • Barring unpredictable develop ments, the total food supply pro 1 duced on American farms this year will be the largest on record, accord ing to the United States department of agriculture. k . 8324 On* S’n*^ | First Clothes. t/'ES! These are clothes you can 1 make of flannelette for the little stranger yourself. We’ve kept them very simple so that even if you haven’t sewn much before you can make these. Bonnet, sacque, wrapper, sleeper and bunting are in one size only—but that size is big enough for a baby of any age up to six months. • • * Pattern No. 8324 includes 5 pieces, in one size only, for infants to six months. Bonnets, sacque, wrapper, sleeper and bunting require yards 36 or 39-inch material, 614 yards ribbon binding. lUOUSEHOLD IniriTs^ If the string for tying packages for mailing is dampened before using, it will stay in place because it shrinks as it dries. Excelsior is excellent for packing glass or chinawrare if it is dampened as it clings closer to articles. * • • Lemon juice, salt and strong sunlight are cures for stains on white materials. * * • Make a definite place around the household to keep instruction booklets that come with appli ances, then when directions are needed they can be quickly found. • * * A pinch of salt added to hot starch will give a high gloss. • • * To slip a cactus, break off slips at the joints. Break off three or four, as they do not always root, and stick them in fine sand. Keep them wet and in a warm place and they will root in about three weeks. These will make nice gifts fqr your flower-loving friends. • * • If adhesive or gummed tape be comes too stiff to use, soften it with two tablespoons of warm wa ter and half a teaspoon of glyc erin. Plenty of Variety. wear with this smart jacket suit. If you do you will find that the one suit will seem different every time you change dickies. The simple, comfortable lines of both jacket and skirt are ever so be coming. • • • Pattern No. 8341 is in sizes 12, 14, 18, 18, 20; 40 and 42. Size 14. with short sleeves, takes 33* yards 39-inch material. Send your order to: SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. 530 South Wells St. Chicago. Enclose 20 cents in coins tor each pattern desired. Pattern No. Size. Name . Address . HOUSEWIVES: ★ ★ ★ Your Waste Kitchen Fats Are Needed for Explosives TURN ’EM IN! ★ ★ ★ I Vocal Cords, Heft, Legs To Weather ‘Covered* The Lloyds of London, famous for underwriting policies insuring the legs of dancers, the vocal chords of singers, the heft of cir cus fat ladies, etc., have also in sured the weather. One Hollywood film production insured itself against all kinds of weather ex cept snow for a “shot” in the mountains where snow was vital. Theater managers in England insure the royal family against death because this event closes the theaters during a period of national mourning. —11 .. — —» Pull of Moon The gravitational pull of the moon upon particles on the earth is three times that of the sun. FAMOUS NO-SUGAR ALL-BRAN MUFFINS EASY! DELICIOUS! They really are the most delicious muffins that ever melted a pat of but ter! Made with crisp, toasted shreds of Kellogg's all-bran, they have a texture and flavor that have mad* them famous all over America. r Kellogg’s All-Bran Muffins 2 tablespoons % cup milk shortening 1 cup flour % cup corn syrup % % teaspoon salt 1 egg ' J 2H teaspoons 1 cup Kellogg’s fl® baking powdef All-Bran Cream shortening and corn syrup thoroughly; add egg and beat well. Stir in All-Bran and milk, let soak until most of moisture is taken up. Sift flour with salt and baking pow der; add to first mixture and stir only until flour disappears. Fill greased muffin pans two-thirds full and bake In moderately hot oven (400° F.), about 30 minutes. Yield: 8 large muf fins, 3 Inches in diameter, or 12 small muffins, 2'A Inches In diameter. uiiT—imimill win m i -jsz ww • QUALITY counts more today than ever before, particularly in home baking. 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