hiftin
AND
y
Sara Ware
BASSETT
Copyright by
The Penn Pub. Co.
WNU Service
SYNOPSIS
The future of the still youthful and
comely “Widder” Marcia Howe, recently
released by death from her idling hus-
band, is a conversational tit-bit among
housewives of the little hamlet of
Wilton. Eligible bachelors and widow-
ers also are interested. Marcia is lonely,
and has invited her late husband's
niece, Sylvia Hayden, whom she had
never seen, to visit her. A stranger,
on the verge of exhaustion, finds his
way to Marcia’'s home. Secretly, he
asks Marcia to hide a package contain-
ing jewelry. She does so. Elisha Wins.
low, town sheriff, brings news of a
jewel robbery nearby. The stranger
gives his name as Stanley Heath. 8yl-
via, by chance, discovers the jewels,
and naturally believes Heath is a rob-
ber. She realizes that Marcia must have
hidden them, and decides to say noth-
ing, putting the gems back In their
hiding place.
CHAPTER V—Continued
nelle
Prince came bounding into the house
from some distant pilgrimage of his
own, almost knocking her down in his
eagerness for breakfast.
She glanced far up the shore and
saw, serenely rocking with the tide,
“My Unknown Lady.”
As she whispered the name, she was
conscious of hot blood rushing to her
cheeks,
How ridiculous! Stanley Heath was
simply a stranger of a night, he was
nothing to her,
Well indeed was It, too, that he was
pot!
During her hours of sleeplessness
the ardor of her faith in him had, to
a degree, cooled. True, she still main-
tained her belief In his Innocence;
but that belief, she now realized, was
only a blind unfounded intuition. Both
the circumstances and sober second
thought failed to back it up. The man's
impatience to be gone, his complete
silence with regard to the jewels, al
though perfectly justifiable, did not
strengthen it
Marcia conceded he had every right
to keep his affairs to hifnself. Had he
started to confide his secret to her,
she would have held up her hand to
stay him.
It was the fact that through the
dim hours of the night, while she sat
at his elbow trying to make the dis-
comforts he suffered more bearable,
he talked of almost everything
but the thing uppermost in both thelr
minds. That was what hurt, She did
pot want to know. She
trusted: to help; to feel
ence upon her. Instead
at arm's length,
He spoke with appreciation of the
crew who had dragged his boat off the
sand-bar, appearing to consider them
tremendously Kkind—as undoubtedly
they were! Still, they had not begun
to come into the close contact with
him that she had.
Marcia caught herself up with a
round turn. Here she was being sensi-
tive, womanish., How detestable! Why
should Stanley Heath pour out his soul
to her? She had never laid eyes on
him until yesterday. In a day or two
he would be gone never again to come
into her life. She was glad of it. It
was better so,
This decision reached, she drew In
her chin, lifted her head a wee bit and
began to get the breakfast,
Even Doctor Stetson’s arrival and
his subsequent verdict that the patient
had bronchitis and would take hig life
in his hands should he leave his bed,
afforded her only scant satisfaction.
80 she was to keep Stanley Heath
under her roof after all-—but against
his will. It was not a very flattering
situation,
She sent Sylvia up with his coffee
and toast, and began her usual round
of morning duties.
And then Just as they were finished
and the clock was striking eleven, he
called,
She went up, cheerful but with her
head still held high, and paused on
the threshold.
Glancing at her he smiled.
“You look llke a bird about to take
flight. Won't you sit down?’
She went nearer. Nevertheless she
did not take the chair he Indicated.
“I see you are busy,” he sald. “1
thought perhaps your housework might
be done by this time and you might
have a moment to spare, Well, I
mustn't Interrupt, Forgive me for
calling.”
“I haven't a thing in the world to
do,” Marcia burst out.
“Good! Then you can stay a little
while,” he coaxed, “Now answer this
question truthfully, please. You heard
what Doctor Stetson sald about my
returning to New York today. I don't
want to be pig-headed and take a risk
if It is imprudent; that is neither falr
to others nor to myself. Still, it is
important that I go and I am anxious
to. What is your advice?”
“1 think you are too fl.”
A frown of annoyance wrinkled his
forehead.
“Perhaps you're right, Yet for all
that I am disappointed. I want very
much to go. It is necessary.”
else
“Can't anything be done from here?”
queried she,
“Such as—"
“Letters, telegrams-~whatever you
wish. I can telephone or telegraph
anywhere. Or I can write.”
Surprise stole over his face, then
deepened to admiration.
“You would do that for me—blind-
folded?”
“Why not? I simply want to help.
I always like to help when I can”
“Even when you do not under
stand?”
Plercingly his eyes rested on her
face,
“I-—I—do not need to understand,”
was her proud retort.
For the fraction of a second thelr
glances met. When he spoke his volce
was low-—imperative,
“Marcla—come here!
She went—she knew not why.
“Give me your hand”
Again, half-trembling, half reluctant,
she obeyed.
He took it
kissed It.
“I will stay and you shall telegraph,”
was all he said.
She sprang to fetch paper and pen-
cil, as If welcoming this break in the
tension.
“I'm afraid I cannot write plainly
enough with my left hand,” he sald.
“Will you take down the message?”
“Certainly.”
“Mrs, 8S. C. Heath."
Her pencil, so firm only an Instant
before, quivered,
“Have you that?”
“yes
“The Biltmore, New York City.”
“Yes.” .
“Everything safe with me. Do not
worry. Marooned on Cape Cod with
cold. Nothing serious, Home soon.
Love. Stanley.”
“Got that?"
*Yes."
Hsd something gone out of her
volce? The monosyliable was fiat,
colorless. Heath looked at her. Even
her expression was different—or did
he merely imagine it?
“Perhaps 1 would better just glance
over the message before you send {t—
simply to make sure it's right”
“Let me copy It first,” she objected.
“Copy it? Nonsense! What for?
Nobody's going to see It“
He reached for the paper,
Still she withheld it,
“What's the trouble ™
“It isn't written well
rather copy It.
“Why ™
“It's wobbly.
hands were cold”
“You're not chilly?”
“No—oh, no.”
“If the room is cool you mustn't stay
here.”
“It isn't. I'm not cold at all”
“Will you let me take the telegram?”
She placed it in his hand,
“It is shaky. However, that's of no
consequence, since you are to ‘phone
Western Union. Now, if you truly
are not cold, I'd like to dictate a sec:
ond wire.”
“All right."
“This one is for Currier” he sald
“Mr. James Currier, The Blitmore,
New York City. Safe on Cape with
My Lady. Shall return with her later.
Motor here at once, bringing whatever
I need for indefinite stay,
“Stanley C.
In his and bending,
enough.
I—I-perhaps
Heath™
“Got that?
“0. K..” nodded Marcia.
‘his time, without hesitation,
passed him the paper.
“This, 1 see, Is your normal hand
writing,” he commented as he placed
the messages side by side,
Taking up the sheels,
them with Interest,
“Hadn't I better go and get off the
messages?” suggested Marcia, rising
nervously, “The station might be
closed, Often it is, at noontime”
“It doesn't matter if they don't go
until afternoon.”
“But there might be some slip.”
He glanced at her with his keen
eyes,
“What's the
“Matter?”
“Yes, with you? All of a sudden
you've turned easteriy.”
“Have 17" Lightly, she laughed.
“I probably have caught the habit from
the sea. Favironment does influence
character, psychologists say.”
“Nevertheless, you are not fickle,”
“How do you know? You know an
amazing amount about me, seems to
me, considering the length of our ac-
quaintance,” she observed with a tan-
talizing smile.
“1 do,” was the grim retort. “1 know
more than you think-—-more, perhaps
than you know yourself. Shall I hold
the betraying mirror up before you?”
“The mirror of truth? God forbid:
Who of us would dare face it? she
protested, still smiling but with gen-
uine alarm. “Now do let me run along
and send off the messages. I must not
loiter here talking. You are forgetting
that you're ill. The next you know
your temperature will go np and Doe
tor Stetson will blame me."
“My temperature has gone up”
growled Stanley Heath, turning his
back on her and burying his face In
the pillow with the touchiness of a
small boy.
Sylvia, meanwhile, had heard Stanley
Heath call Marcia and halled her
aunt's departure from the kitchen as
the opportunity for which she had so
anxiously been waiting.
No sooner was the elder woman up
stairs and out of earshot than she tip
toed from her room, the monogrammed
handkerchief in her pocket,
She had pried out the brick and had
the jewelease in her hand, wrapped
and ready for its returs when conver.
sation overhead suddenly ceased and
she
he studied
matter?
and start down stairs.
Sylvia gasped. There was no chance
to put the package back and replace
the brick, which fitted so tightly that
its adjustment was a process requir
Ing patience, care, and time,
Flustered, frightened, she jammed
the jewel case Into her dress and fran-
ing hole in the hearth as best she
the same moment
the front ones,
Once In her room, she closed and
Marcia descended
a chair to recover her breath,
Well, at least she had not been
were quite safe,
her pocket.
no harm for her to look at them-—
even try them on, as she had been
tempted to do when she first discov-
ered them. Probably never again in
all her life
hand so much wealth and beauty,
Accordingly she unwound the hand-
kerchief and opened the box,
There lay the glistening heap of
treasure, resplendent in the sunshine,
a far more gorgeous spectacle than she
had realized,
Going to the bureau, Sylvia took out
the jewels, one by one,
She clasped the diamonds about her
neck; fastened the emerald brooch in
place; put on the sapphire pendant;
then added the rings and looked at her-
self In the goid-framed mirror,
What she saw reflected dazzled her.
Who would have believed jewels could
make such a difference in one's ap-
pearance? They set off her blond
beauty so that she was suddenly trans-
formed into a princess,
Slowly, and with consclous coquetry,
like a preening bird, she turned her
head this way and that, delighting in
the creaminess of the neck the gems
encircled, and In the falrness of her
golden curls,
She really ought to have jewels. She
was born for them and could carry
them off, There were myriad women
in the world on whom such adornment
would be wasted—good and worthy
women, foo.
Then a volce Interrupted her reverie.
It was Stanley Heath calling.
She heard Marcia reply and come
hurrying upstairs.
Gulitily Sylvia took off her sparkling
regalia; tumbled it unceremoniously
into its case; and slipped it into the
drawer underneath a pile of night
dresses. Then she softly unlocked the
door and sauntered out.
It was none |! S000,
was speaking to her.
“Sylvia?
“Yea”
“How would you feel about going
over to the village for the mall and to
do some errands? The tide Is out and
you could walk. Prince needs a run”
“I'd love to go.”
“That's fine. Here is a list of things
we need at the store. You're sure you
don't mind going?”
“No, indeed. 1 shall
out.”
Then suddenly Sylvia had an inspira-
tion which she instantly acted upon.
“Why don't you go?” she inquired.
“You didn't sleep much last night, and
a walk might do you good.”
“Oh, 1 objected Marcia
with haste. “I've a hundred and one
things to do. Thanks, just the same.”
“Well, you know your own business
best. Is this the list?"
“Yes. There are quite a few tems
but they won't be heavy. Here is the
basket. Prince will carry it. That is
his job and very proud he is of doing
it. Goodby, dear.”
“She's dreadfully anxious to get us
out of the way, isn't she, Prince?”
commented young Syivia as she and
the setter started out over the sand.
“Now what do you suppose she has
on her mind? She's up to something.
Marcia isn't a bit of an actress. She's
too genuine”
Marcela, standing at the window
watching the girl, would have been as-
tonished enough had she heard this
astute observation.
She did want Sylvia out of the way.
The girl had read her correctly,
She must telephone the messages to
the stationmaster at Sawyer Falls, the
adjoining town where the railroad
ended and the nearest telegraph sta
tion was.
She got the line and had no sooner
dictated the telegrams than she heard
Heath's volce.
During the interval that had elapsed
since she had left him, both of them
had experienced a reaction and each
was eager to make amends,
Marcia regretted her flippancy. It
had been childish of her to give way
to pique and punish Heath simply be-
too for Marcia
enjoy being
couldn't,”
doubt the absent Mrs. Stanley Heath
too, who lived in luxury at the great
been sent.
words,
And she?
should have done, and receiving it gra-
tunately it was not too late to do so.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
dent's appropriations,
A BOX OF PIN-HEAD TAX ©
By NINA WILCOX PUTNAM
There once was a day when,
it you heard the word “tax,” you
thought of a small box full of litte
demi-in palls which bit when
you tried to pull one out to mend the |
Ease you
window shade,
Now when anyone asks If you have
You
and pull
of final potices,
tacks in the house, rush
drawer
some
for
handful
the desk out =
Of course, these only represent the
tases which come to visit you
and range from
Federal Tax
fittln
sort of
in the
the
Return counierpain
itsy-bitsy
why 1 should ever receive
i have
deed, when
size
in
ucome
home,
big, burly
down to the
poil-tax. Just
the aller,
*oli-tax In
priced a
two-dollar
never nndersiood i
I've never even
parrof, mu h less Kept one
I pay dog tax, though They
my
call it a license, of course, but i's =»
tax on my pocketbook
they
shoes is the
no matier whan
suppose the tax of
Bx . . » oh
my
call iL i
dog
real
well, that one is at jeast own
poor thing!
The first
pit Over
fast one
turned « it wasn't so
ponBiar,
March has hee fixed date
the annual tine ha uses niet,
in a spirit
syvervhody goes at
catch stehean and rather likes It
They it's fun to be
t's even more fun
Collector of Eternal Revenue,
The states, many of them being a
ns i
soy fooled”
frying
edition of the above mentioned
State Income Tax may be a state affair
fit it tx also that in the plural—a
state of affairs:—and If youn don’t
believe me. just walt until you have |
to pay yours this year!
The whale country is now like mid
town New York at micday: axis,
taxis everywhere and you can't make |
+ move in any direction without run
ning inte ‘em,
Of course the gas (ax
thing in a way because it
lot of people in their homes,
a shame it don’t apply on the floor of
the house of representatives.
While as for this sales tax they have
got in a few states such as California
and New York, well, it's funny how
When the government al
2% per cent beer was
kicked because it
But a 2 per
that
legal, the folks
wasn't strong enough.
knocks ‘em for a headache. Oh well,
it takes all Kinds of people to make
a world and then what have you got?
The beauty who is getting all the at-
tention Just now ix the inheritance
tax. Around where 1 live, they call
it the New Inheritance Tax. Well 1
must say that years ago, all I in
herited from my Uncle Bill was a lot
of taxes, so if they think inheritance
taxes are something new, they are
goofy! 1 admit there was a farm at-
tached—quite heavily attached—to the
1 dug off the last line I had to slap it
back again to keep the roof from cav-
ing In from age. If the inheritance
tax goes far enough, we won't even be
sure of our own tombstones,
Ah well, taxes never come single in
spite of all Henry George sald. The
only people they really help are the
newspaper cartoonists, With the rest
of the population they have given rise
to a lot of prejudice. Why, my broth.
er, for Instance, don’t like to be
known as a taxidriver, becanse he's
afraid people will think he's a revenue
man.
Now 1 am not narrow-minded or
unpatriotic about this tax business.
1 realize poor starving politicians
cannot be lowed to go on home re
Probably would
no sense ull If they
Also | am per-
that the hold
short even
isn't much, so naturally
wide for their lean
can, or
to
the
a
lef, their homes
have of relief at
stayed home all day.
fectly well aware office
©rs
four
they
have a season of it,
Years
have
while
to pr
some
work.
at the Government Ma-
has to be
yenrs they day
they might have go to
I know, 1«
chinery
wo, tl
qithough
down to earth in
Oh heck,
taxes are
{ir
know
Aw,
to
supported
why It can’t come
stead, is beyond me,
I mean is, 1 know
essary for the Public Weal
it's Public Veal—you
i fat-head calf,
trot
trying
what
nec.
mayhe
kill-
SOT
fe pe !
$a
that
the
the
be high
it and admit that all | Know
£1 Or e188
mints; I'l quit
hat abont
is you've got (to pay
So Axes
as long as have got to be
them popular?
paid, why nol make Pog
Nobody
for
thrill
minds giving up their dough
something which gives them a
why, they will even give
So in
1
other people’s dough for thal
my simple » fashion, 1 propose
that we qui necessary things
is known as
Putnam
To begin tld take
i put
ies
the tax off of theater tickels
it on to wives who (ake nging
Don't cheer,
them
boys, this
wont
The
shall be
fit
slop
er t
nt
wotator at
plan says fur) there
a ax
sensat
On every si
all or murder
trials,
All
at a rite of 20 per cent of
income of
per
of the gessipee.
All smoking room stories over one
year old shall be tazed at the rate of
50 cents per repetition. With a tax-
collector stationed at every cocktail
party this source alone should bring
the treasury ample funds with which
to finance all of the President's ap
propriations and leave enough over for
a hromo seltzer,
Practical jokes shall be taxed on a
That gives me an idea!
Can just picture a fat woman
stepping onto a sliding scale? Huh!
Sd you won't laugh, eh? Oh well, what
do 1 eare? But this is a rich idea,
this taxing practical! jokes. And what
i really started out to say was, the
jokes would be taxed in proportion to
their cleverness and originality. The
dumber the Joke the higher the tax.
Joe Cook, for instance, would get off
practically free.
The list of properly taxable things
conld go on practically endlessly, be-
ginning with visits from mothers-in-law
and ending with buttered parsnips, and
such a tax list, far from making Mr.
Taxpayer, the Forgotten Man and Mr.
Average Citizen feel even more gloomy
than they look from their pictures In
the papers—well, far from making
them feel oppressed, it would have
them practically laughing out loud,
Nobody could object to seeing a guy
malicious gossip shall be taxed
the net
And a tax
ETOss income
the gossiper,
cent of the
you
ing =aid
as farewell to a pal
result in the happy populace digging
up the tax money for their taxed
brethren voluntarily, with song and
dance, Instead of giving the govern
ment a song and dance about not being
able to pay at all, the way a lot of
them do now.
But all this depends on my plan be-
ing carried out, and I don’t mean feet
first, either,
© Nina Wilcox Putnam —~WNU Servios,
In Advance Class
“1 thought sou finished your cor
respondence school education.”
“1 did, Now I'm taking a parcel
post-graduate course.”
omens sg ol
Where That Clam Went
The Billings child on her Sunday
shell and regarded it meditatively,
“Now 1 wonder where that elam
has gone to?’ she inquired.
Neither parent responded. Four
yearolds are always wondering
and Blllings was busy
oll on her person.
“I wonder where that clam has
“Mommie, do you want to know
dy, do you want to know where that
ey
Both parents averred absently
The Billings child tossed aside the
shovel and started for the water. In
departing she remarked:
“It's crawled into an oyster shell
and is going around fooling people.”
~New York Son.
What a Blessing
If they could only devise some
way to tax talk!
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HOTEL TUDOR