THE CENTRE REPORTER, CENTRE HALL, PA. SR i“ The Rogues’ Gallery CHAPTER XI—Continued on Bn *Don’t you think it would be wiser if 1 took care of it for you, Hortle?" suggested she demurely. “You are dreadfully careless. Only a moment ago you had no idea where the ring was. If it Is on my finger you'll know exactly.” “Bully idea! So I shall! Now tell me where you're off to. You were In a frightfal hurry when you burst through that door.” “So I was” agreed Sylvia. “And here I am loitering and almost forget. ting my errand. Come! We must hurry. I've got to go to town. Want to row me over?” “You bet your fe! boat.” Leading the way to the yellow dory, she took her place opposite him and be pushed off, As they sat facing one another, her eyes roamed over his brown sult; his matching tie, handkerchief and socks; his immaculate linen; his general alr of careful grooming, and she could not but admit he wore his clothes well. He was not a small town product. Three years in an eastern prepara- tory school, followed by four years of college life had knocked all that might have been provincial out of Horatio Junior. Nevertheless these reflections, inter- esting though they were, proved noth- ing about his knowledge of the water, Then she suddenly became aware that the boat was being guided by a master hand. “Why, Hortle Fuller, I had no idea you could row like this!” exclaimed she with admiration. Horatio deigned no response. “Wherever did you learn to pull such an oar?’ “Varsity Crew.” “Of course. I had forgotten,” she apologized, her eyes following as with each splendid stroke the craft shot forward. Although the oarsman Ignored her approbation he was not unmindful of it. “Where do we land?" he asked. “Anywhere.” He bent forward and with one final magnificent sweep sent the nose of the dory out of the channel. “Come on" he called, leaping to the beach. “But—but, Hortle—I can't get ashore bere. I'll wet my white shoes.” “Jump.” : “It's too far. on the sand.” “Not on your life. I'll catch you.” She stood up In the bow, “I can’t. It's too far” “Nonsense | blood? Don't here.” “Suppose you “But 1 shall” He would. She was certain Still she wavered. “I don't want to jump,” she pouted “You'll have to. Beau- tiful. You're wasting time “1 think you are perfectly horrid,” she flung out as she sprang forward. An Instant later she was in his arms and tight in a grip she knew herself powerless to loosen, “Let me go, Hortie! she pleaded. “I shall, sweetheart. All In good time. Before I set you free, though, we must settle one trivial point. Are we engaged or are we not?” She made no answer, “If we're not," he went on. *I In tend to duck you In the water. If we are, you shall tell me you love me and go free" A swift, shy smile illuminated her face, “I—I—don't want to Hortie,” she murmured, arms to his neck. “You precious thing! You shan't be. Now the rest of It. Say you love me.” “I guess you know that” “But I wish to hear you say It.” *i~=I—think I do.” “That's a half-hearted statement.” “J~~I-~~know 1 do, Hortle.” “Ah, that Is better. And 1 love you, Sylvia. Loving you Is an old, old story with me—a sort of habit. I shall never change. You are too much a part of me, Sylvia. Now pay the boat man and you shall go. One is too cheap. Two is miserly. The fare 1s three. I won't take less.” “1 consider your methods desple- able” anpounced the girl when at last he reluctantly put her down on her feet. “You blackmailed me” “1 know my Sylvia,” he countered. “Perhaps you'd rather 1 trurdied back to New York tomorrow and offered the ring to Estelle.” “Slily! 1 was only fooling,” she protested quickly, linking her arm in his. “This ring would never fit Es telle, dearest. Her hands are tre mendous. Didn't you ever notice them? They are almost as large as a man's. I never saw such hands” “She's an awful nice girl Just the same.” “I don't doubt that. Come. We must quit fooling now .and hurry or we shall never get home, Marcia will be frantic” “Marcia? “My aunt. I have so much to tell you I hardly know where to begin” sighed Sylvia. “Do listen carefully, for 1 need your advice.” “What about?” “A lot of things. It Is a long story, You see Marcia has fallen in love with a robber.” “A robber? Your sunt?” » “Uh-huh. I know it sounds odd, but Jou will understand It better after Pull higher the boat Jump, darling! Where's your sporting be afraid. I'm right shouldn't catch me?” of It Come on, " Let me go!” be ducked, raising her By Sara Ware Bassett Copyright by The Penn Pub, Co. WNU Service you have heard the details,” nodded Sylivia. “This man, a jewel thief, came to our house one day ship- wrecked and hurt, so we took him in, We didn't know then, of course, that he was a thief. Afterward, when we did, he was sick and we hadn’t the heart to turn him out. In fact we couldn't have done it anyway. He was too fascinating. He was one of the most fascinating men you ever saw." “He must growled. “Oh, he was. 1 myse my heart to him,” confessed earnestly, “Marcia did.” “Your aunt?” “Yes. Don't look so horrified, Hor- tle. I realize It seems queer, uncon- ventional; but you'll understand better when you see Marcia. She is no or dinary person.” “I shouldn't think she was.” Sylvia Ignored the comment. “Well, anyway, the robber hid the loot and of course Marcia and I did all we could to protect him. “Then one day the Wilton sheriff heard over the radio there had been a jewel robbery on Long Island, and stumbling upon the hidden gems, ar- rested Mr, Heath” “Mr. Heath? “The thief, Hortle! The thief! How can you be so stupid? “I get you now. You must admit, though, this is some story to under- stand.” “I know It sounds confused. but in reality it Is perfectly simple If you'll just pay attention. Well,” the girl hurried on, “I cannot stop to explain all the twists and turns but anyway, the sheriff brought the burglar to Wil ton and Marcela is broken-hearted.” “Broken-hearted ! I should think she'd be thankful to be rid of him.” “But you keep forgetting she's In love with bim.” “Well, do you wonder I do? What kind of a woman Is your aunt? What sort of a gang have you got in with anyhow 7" “Hush, Hortle! have been,” Horatio 1 ik You mustn't talk like that" declared. “This affalr Is too serious. Marcia and the ~~the--she and Mr. Heath love one an- other. It is terrible because, you see, he has a wife” “1 should call that a Providence, myself.” “Horatio, 1 think sre being very nasty. You joking about something that is no joking matter” *1 beg your pardon, dear. 1 wasn't really Joking. Don't be angry. But Sylvia stroke of You are “Let Me Go, Mortie! Let Me Gol” this yarn 1s unbelievable—preposter- ous,” explained the men, taking her hand and gently caressing it “Well, when Mr. Heath went away from the Homestead, he left behind him a hundred dollars In payment for what Marcia had done for him. It aimost killed her.” “She—she—thought she ought to have had more, you mean? A hundred dollars Is quite a sum in thése days. She would better have grabbed it tight aod been thankful. My respect for this bandit chap is rising. 1 should call him an honest gentleman.” “It 1s useless to talk with you, Horatio—I ean see that,” Sylvia said, stiffening. “A delleate affair like this Is evidently beyond your comprehen sion. You cannot seem to understand it. All you do Is to make light of every word 1 say.” “I'm not making light. On the con- trary 1 guess I am taking the situa. tion far more seriously than you are, I don’t like the moral tone of this place at all. It looks to me as If you had got into most undesirable sur roundings. The sooner you are mar ried to me, young woman, and out of here the better. As for this remark. able aunt of yours—" “Stop, Horatio! Stop right where you are,” bridied Bylvia. “One more word against Marcia and back home you go so fast you won't be able to see for dust. I'm In earnest, so watch your step.” “The woman has bewitched you,” frowned Horatlo, “She has. She bewlitches everybody. She'll bewlitch you” “Not on your life!” “Walt and see. Mr, bewiteh you, too." Heath will “The~—the-—17" “Yes, the burglar, bandit, whatever you choose to call You'll admit it when you meet him, We are zoing there now.” “To—to—call?” “To return you about. You're the stupidest man I was ever engaged to, Horatlo. can't you listen?" “I am listening with all my ears.” “Then the trouble is with your im- aginaticn,” Sylvia sald in her loftiest tone, They walked on In s'lence until presently the girl stopped before the gate of a small, weather beaten cot- tage, “Well, here we are at EMsha's,” she remarked, turning in at the gate. “What's he got to do with 1t?” “Mercy, Hortle. You'll wear me to a shred. Elisha Is the sheriff. I'm go- Ing to coax him to let us see the pris- oner."” “You don’t mean the chap is jalled here! My--!" he clapped his hand over his mouth, “Why, any red-blood- ed man could knock the whole house flat to the ground with a single blow of his fist. I'll bet I could.” “There wasn't any other place to put him" “Well, If he stays Incarcerated in a detention pen like this, he's a noble- minded convict-—that's all I have to say.” They walked up the narrow clam shell path, bordered by Iris and thrifty perennials. As they did so, the sound of a radio drifted through the open window, Sylvia peeped in. Elisha, too Intent on the muslie to hear her step, was sitting before the loud speaker, smoking. “I've come to see Mr. Heath™ she shouted sbove the walls of a croon- ing orchestra. “1 ain't sure as I'd oughter let you see him.” hesitated Elisha, “I'll take the responsibility.” “Wal—mebbe on thought, "twill do no harm.” he drawled. “He's round on the back porch. I'd come with you warn't 1 waitin® for the news flashes" “That's all right. I can find him.” “Say, who you got with you?" called the sheriff over his shoulder. “He's nobody—just my fiance.” “Your what?" “The man | am going to marry.” “You don't tell me! So you're gettin’ married, are you?! Good lookin’ feller! 1 heard at the post office you had some chap in the offin’. But to let him see Mr. Heath--l dunno as ‘twould be second “Where 1 go Horatio goes,” Sylvia retorted, Elisha weakened, “Wal, In that casg—" he began. She waited to hear no more “Come on, Hortie,” she called. Leaving Elisha absorbed in a saxo phone solo, the two rounded the cor ner of the cottage and found theme seives In the presence of Stanley Heath, CHAPTER XII “Syivia!™ he cried, springing up and advancing toward her with outstretched hand. “Sylvia! What a brick you are to come" Angry as she was, when face to face with him she could not resist the contagion of his smile. *T'm giad to see you so well" she sald. “This is Mr, Horatio Fuller of Alton City.” Horatio looked Heath up and down and then stepped forward and gripped his hand with unmistakable cordiality. “Mighty glad to know you, sir,” was his greeting. “You seem to have got yourself into a jam. If there is any- thing I can do—any way I can be of service" “Horatio, you forget we are not here to make a social call,” inter. rupted Sylvia, who had by this time regained her routed chilliness and in- dignation. “On the contrary, Mr. Heath, we have come on a very pain- ful errand. We are returning this check to you." She extended it toward him, gingerly holding its corner in the tips of her fingers as If It were too foul a thing to touch. “It was outrageous of you, insulting, to leave a thing of this sort for Mareia—to attempt to pay In cash kindness such as hers.” “I'm sorry,” Heath stammered, “Sorry! You couldn't have been very sorry, or you would have sensed such an act would hurt her terribly.” Horatio Fuller fumbled nervously with his tie “You deserve,” swept on young Syl- via with rising spirit, “to be thrashed. Hortle and 1 both think so—don't we, Hortie?" Horatlo Junior turned erimson. “Oh, I say, Sylvia, go easy!” he protested. “Don’t drag me Into this, I don’t know one darn thing about fit. be less awkward all round. If you want me you can speak.” Nodding courteously in Heath's dl rection, Horatlo Junior disappeared. “Your Mr. Fuller 18 a man of nice feeling,” Stanley Heath declared look: Ing after him. “I congratulate you.” “Thank you.” “Everything is settled then?” 8he nodded. “I hope you will be very happy.” She did not reply at once. When she did, it was to say with a humility new and appealing: (TO BE CONTINUED) WHAT OF OUR NATIONAL * By NINA WILCOX PUTNAM HERE is an ol AW Ww tw ch says 1 hey chart from a fire harter and kKoow how | to make the head of the concern wish | he'd graduated from high school so's | he'd Know what they were talking | shout, All over the world 1 notice the same in partic to that one, | fo up a single constructive th oo thing. stems Russia uiariy there be an idea 40,000,000 heads are better than ut so far the whole lot don't seem have been abie to think idea And don't let Hitler or Mussolini fool either. They may act like head is better than two, but If you look the and the policy you'll find an army of boys with charts that show everything from the average yardage of spaghetti to the relative decrease in dogs and In crease in frankfurters, In France they still do things by ear, and none of them have learned to keep their hands =till long enough to take a National Metabolism. And If they ever did get thelr heads together in a real business conference it would prob. ably take years to untangle the beards afterwards, In the Tight Little Isle (why does England call itself that when they are only allowed to drink a couple of hours a das?). Well, anyways, in England they've been running the country pret. ty successfully on the principle that one head was perfectly satisfactory go long as the crown on it was hand. some enongh to attract attention. But they have always heen great on re ports, snd charts. Charterhouse is one of thelr swanky schools and from the way things are shaping up in America 1 think one of the graduates must have sneaked on board the Mayflower, At any rate we've developed an epi demic of running things by groups over here which makes the Great Jigsaw Puzzle Plague of "33 pale by compar iso. The infamous puzzle makers are hiding their heads In shame before the onslaught of Mhese new puzzle makers, because, after all, someone did ocean sionally solve a jigsaw, But when some one shows you a pinchecked plece of paper across which a drunken hen has apparently walked after stepping In the ink, and says proudly, “There, you can see for yourself!” Well, that's something else again, but I'm not just gure what, Of course it's probably the modern method of explaining everything and very much all right. But when I was YOu one het ween balance sheet blanket paper was confined to Inmates of the cause of drawing Jiggly lines, Well, whichever way it was, the lines have apparently escaped and one of them Is wigzagging up and down all over the country. Even your doctor has ‘em. You go to consult him about your bill, which is You Can See for Yourse!f!™ and pulis 8 pin yiinder with nd down It “There, 1 You can I Your nose id proving It is the Ad- has even Han iis charting work and if anybody they're greed Crem that { relief, ant to make my- orto 0 thinks crazy. Not self personse au gratin with the gov ernment more than [ am saiready help any over my income tax, but I can't noti an Investigation that the relief rolls or who had been rolling the relief had put in a lot of time n a survey of exactly where there was no electric lighting in Sumatra in 1426. Sore of “King of All the Surveys” stuff, eh what? At that charts might have their useful For example, the next creditors writes and asks me why 1 haven't pald my bill, I might get a pad of that sports. paper, and taking my pen be tween my toes to insure unstesdiness make up a chart and send it to him with the remark “You can see for yourself” Also in writing the kind of letter In which you discuss the weather we are having, a chart of this popular kind would save describing the lightning. The one who received It would un- doubtedly supply the thunder, Torn into small strips and moistened, these efficiency charts are very effi. clent for sweeping dust out of oriental rugs, And when it comes to firing the cook, a chart of your digestion showing high and low points of agony and pinned above the stove, will usually do the trick. All cooks think that anything they can't understand is an insult, Personally 1 am a bit quaint in my ideas. The only time 1 think two heads are better than one is when a kiss is involved, and no charts are needed to promote efliciency. And In my humble<pshaw, I don't really mean that—in my darned cock- sure opinion, the way to better busi ness conditions and haul back that coy old girl, Prosperity, Is to quit smoth- ering individual Initiative with central committees, unearitis the fact gOme guys on or something, IRKINE these side time one of my goods "QUOTES" COMMENTS ON CURRENT TOPICS BY NATIONAL CHARACTERS | Opinions expressed in the paragraphs | below are not necessarily concurred in | by the editor of this newspaper. | AMERICAN TRADITIONS SOUND By DR, HANS KOHN HE philosophy of Fascism glori- files the nation, to which the in- dividual Is expected to sacrifice him. self ; therefore the gesture by Mus solinl, to impress the Italian people with the great traditions and the #plendor of thelr country’s conquests, I believe that the courage which is asked of youth In a democracy, the courage to think things out for them. selves rather than to depend blindly on thelr lenders, Is a far greater courage than is asked of young peo pie going into a war, It was the traditions of Germany, of Russia and of Italy—the tradition of obedience & czar, a made It possible to set up Fascism, Communisim, The of people, er ha ciples of liberty, fustice to a kaiser, kin 2. which Nazism, traditions American the On the ott nd, the prin- and equality for all of which your ancestors prevent such a ing FAITH By IN THE LEAGUE GEN. JAN sSMLUTS Gribun GREAT BRITAIN'S NAVY By DAVID LLOYD GEORGE | HAVE gone thre the fizus the “bi hybrid wai good trunk or than the its two par- rove? rRest &INT UIE TY] LS AF UR WITH A Coleman RADIANT HEATER 3 LIGHTS INSTANTLY This fine new Coleman beater you real summertitne warmth on eoldest winter days. Comfortably heats any average room in a short time, No connec no installing. Makes and burns its own gus from ordinary gasoline. Portable... exrry and use it anywhere, Costs loss than 2 an hour to use. Lights instantly. Just strike a match, turn a valve, and out flows wave upon wave of clean, cheerful. healthful heat, See Your Local Dealer ~ or write us for Free lllustrated Folder, THE COLEMAN LAMP AND STOVE CO. i HU, Fai, Kans; cuit, oN a Childhood a Guide Childhood shows the man, as morning shows the ~day.~—Milton. Be sure of Success fancy theorists, and allow good old John Workman to do his stuff. on the principle that man Is what he makes himself, not what somebody else tells him he ought to be, Once in Ireland, every man was a King. How about adopting that sloguy for America before we become a letter in the Alphabet or a numeral in a ledger, Instead? @ Nisa Wheox Puttam. —WNU Service, —-— dite i EATER
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