HASTINGS BRADLEY Copyright by D. Appleton. Century Co, Ine, WNU Service CHAPTER 1 won] — If T hadn't been so angry, through and through, with the blood so hot in my face that I flung open a win- dow to cool off In the sharp autumn alr, I would never have seen that blow. And I would never have— It was ridiculous, my anger. RI- diculous to feel that anything these people might do could hurt me. But to be treated like a plano tuner, like a—a plumber, like one sent for to do some menial job about the house! 1, Leila Seton, better born and better bred than they—not good enough for their house-party. Given a tray In my bedroom! It was silly to let that get me. 1 ought to have laughed it off; but somehow I had been childishly eager about this week-end and all it seemed to promise, and I had spent more than I could afford for the dinner gown I was so sure I would need— and, then the sight of all those peo- ple downstairs, standing about with the cocktails that were the fag end of the tea-hour, laughing and talk- ing, had set me tingling with anticipa- tion as I followed the man with my bags up the stairs. I already knew who some’ of them were, I knew—from the papers— that Alan Deck, the critic, was to be there. I leved his dry, biting sen. tences. I had hoped for him beside me at dinner — literature and art might be paired together: and I'd had little dreams of his finding me under. standing and merry—and likable. In my new blue satin! And the Harridens were to be there --that amazing couple whose sensa- tional accusations and reconciliation New York still rolled under its tongue. There had been an English polo play- er whom Harriden had turned out of doors, and a suit that he had begun one morning and withdrawn another —the explanation being prohibition liquor and misunderstanding. And then the Harridens had gone for an idyllic cruise In thelr yacht, and Nora Harriden’s lovely eyes had smiled out of every paper I picked up. However my New England blood might register disapproval of the goings-on of this spoiled super-gilded set, my unregen- erate soul had been thrilled at the thought of meeting Nora Harriden, the enchantress, I had wondered, passing through the great hall, whether that slight crea. ture In gold pajamas, rather apart from the others, were she or not. She had turned to look at me, and her dark eyes were literally startling. I had sald, as the man put down a suitcase on the little folding stand: “You will tell Mrs, Keller I am here?” Naively I had thought It odd he hadn't announced me when I arrived. “Oh, yes, Madame, she will be In. formed,” he sald perfunctorily. “And what time is dinner?” I want. ed to know, The man had looked vague, *“Oh— the usual hour, I expect. At eight. But you can have your tray sent you at any time you wish. A little earlier?” I was afrald I stared. I gave away my astonishment, and was furious at myself for It As quickly as I could, I sald, “No— at eight, then,” and my volce was not successful, either, In cloaking what I felt. For the sake of saying something indifferent-sounding, 1 asked quickly, “Just where Is the art gallery here?” and he told me that It was around the corner from my room, on the same floor, across the front of the house, Then he shut the door with profes. sional qulet, and I pretended to be busy about the room, putting my coat and hat away In the huge closet, un packing my suitcase, trying to ad- mire the spacious comfort, the cream corded silk of the walls, the black lac. quer of the Chinese furniture, the note of lovely rose in the deep-cush- toned chair. Bot 1 was just getting ‘more angry Inside, A warm bath didn’t soothe me, nor donning the red frock I had brought for “five o'clock.” My cheeks were flaming. 1 found my- self dwelling on the noble origins of my ancestry, and the presumably ig- noble, money-grubbing strains in these upstarts——absurd, the Intensity of child. ish emotion 1 wasted on that experi. ence | Of course my disappolotment was making itself felt, for it was not only a8 blow to my pride, but to the little vague, excited hopes I had been cher. lshing ever since I had been given the commission to go over the Keller col lection, and the Keller secretary— through whom the arrangements had been made ~~ had asked me to come down Friday afternoon. Why Friday afternoon, if | was not to be part of the house-party that the papers sald the Kellers were assembling? Mon. day morning would have been a prop er time for mere workaday arrival, Why, I was an artist! Not a paint. ter—1 only painted to please myself— but an authority on old masters. In studying abroad I had worked under Berensen, fascinated by his sclence of detecting Impostures, and had glv- en myself to study of the past. I knew canvas, threads, pigment. I might have known them, unrecog- nized, for long years; but by luck my discovery of the Lorenzo substitution. Just as the Detroit millionaire was completing the purchase, flashed me into publicity. And when I backed myself against two experts from Paris In the matter of the Da Vine, basing my bellef on the evidence of the anal ysis of the plgment of the five blue stars In the saint's robe, and won— and the alleged finder confessed—why, then 1 was an authority In my own narrow but far-reaching field. I had been sent for now, to go through the famous Keller collection and offer my judgment on the master- pleces that the great-grandfather of the present owner had believed he bought. For four generations, now, that collection—that result of the he- terogeneous buying of an old coal merchant turned cultutal--had been first the automatic admiration and gradually the slyly incredulous won- der of the public: and the present owner had suddenly decided to have the lot gone over, and either credited or discredited, I flung open the long window and offered myself to the night. It had been’six when I arrived—it was about seven-thirty now, It was October, and already dusk; the landscaped ground below me was in shadow, the Sound, far below, a lighter stretch of gray. I hadn't really seen the place In driving in; I had had only an lmpres. sion of high walls and inclosed acres, and a great tall house among trees. Now I took a more careful note of the house. The entrance opened Into a long hall that ran across the front of the building, with a drawing-room at one end, and what I had presumed to be the dining-room at the other. Both the drawing-room and the din. Ing-room jutted forward. I was In the third story, two flights over the draw- ing-room. Because of the forward. jutting position of the wing, my win. dow looked directly across to the oth- er wing, and gave a slant view of the facade of the house. Lights were gleaming In the cracks between drawn curtains in some of the windows; and behind them I could imagine people dressing for dinner. In the front of the house, down on the second story, one wide window was uncurtained, and a man's figure was silhouetted blackly against the yellow oblong of Its light. I watched him with no sense of watching; It was just a figure in a window, standing at one side. Quite suddenly a woman's figure came into the picture. She seemed to whirl in, to come up to the man with a sort of rush, to stand before him a moment. I could see no faces, no movement of the out- line of her face: but 1 had an impres- sion, somehow, that she was talking rapidly. And then he struck her. I saw his arm go out, In an unmis. takable blow, Not a thrust, but a sav. age smack. And then they were both out of sight. I watched wholehearted.- ly now, but their figures did not reap pear, and my angle of view was so sharp that I could see only the space by the window. I was still staring out when the curtains were suddenly drawn. And then I grinned to myself. 1 told my- self that I was quite as well off up here as dining with such guests; for evidently their cocktails had removed whatever veneer any tralniog had put upon them, I was feeling much better by then. I thought about the pictures and ran over in my mind the list of alleged masterpieces that had been old Hiram Keller's vaunt, The man had sald the gallery was on the same floor, across the front of the house, so I went out Into the hall I passed the head of the stairs~—the main stalrcase rising from the first floor branched right and left to gain the second floor, and a stalr rose then to the third—and turned to the door at the left. The knob was so stiff that for a second I thought It might be locked, as galleries often are In European homes; but almost Immed]- ately it turned, and I pushed the door open, fell a little way Into a blackness I felt as vast; the place was dark as a tomb, the curtains drawn, I sur- mised, against any sun, so that not even the pale oblongs of evening were discernible, I fumbled for a switch, stepping Into the shadow of the wall to find one, Out of the darkness a volce spoke 80 suddenly that I jumped. I thought for a moment, still obsessed by my European experience, that It was some watchman of the gallery, and I sald, quickly: “It's all right” I heard. somebody walking toward me, Then my fingers found the switch, and the lights sprang on. And before me the face of a man in evening dress seemed to spring out at me with the lights, It was so white, so star- tling. It was a beautiful face, narrow, high-bred, challenging, like some of the portraits of gay young aristocrats in old English canvases. But the ex- pression was queerly desperate, It was the most bitter and tormented face I had ever seen. A little breathlessly 1 sald: thought it was the watchman. wanted to see the pictures.” I was so busy explaining myself that I did not think of the oddity of his own position there In the darkness of the great gallery: but his words “Oh! } I just | Baw His Arm Go Out, in an Un. mistakable Blow, recalled it and pricked me with em. barrassment at having blundered on some rendezvous, “lI was just—waiting.” he sald a lit tle vaguely. “You—we haven't met before—have we?” “No—oh, no,” I stammered. *I-—1 Just came to see the pictures.” And I turned to be gone, before that girl for whom he was waiting should ar. rive, “You can't see the pictures if you £0," he reminded me with a sort of negligent amusement. “They stay on the walls ™ “lI mean—I just came to the house to see the plctures—to examine them ™ I explained. “I'm not part of the house-party.” 1 tried pridefully to sound aioof, as If I were superior to such gatherings as house-parties. “I'll sée them better by daylight” And as he sald nothing to that, 1 went. Back Io my room, I told my- self that 1 had been silly to rush away like a schoolgirl, for if there was any part of the house to which 1 did have a right of entry, it was the gallery. It was ridiculous to be so confused, so excited, 1 wondered about his rendezvous and its strange secrecy. Surely, In a house like this, with all its opportu- nities for meeting, there must be something desperately Intimate be. | tween two people, to draw them to an i unfrequented gallery for a few min- utes together. . . , And his face hai been so queer. It did not look as if it were rapture he was awaiting, Perhaps she was not coming. Per. haps be despaired of her—that was the haggardness in his eyes. I was beginning to think about my tray, for 1 had a healthy appetite, for all my indignation, when the house. man appeared suddenly at my door with a message. “Mrs. Keller would be pleased, Ma. dame, If you come down at dinner.” My first Impulse, beyond the sud. den surprise, was to refuse, Mra. Kel. ler hadn't wanted me once—my pride wins as high as hers. It was a little after eight. I was not dressed for din- ner—why should I trouble myself be- set her table, and she had taken the whim to send for me? fully, you could.” stairs, what lay behind that invita- tion. I reminded myself that since I was here, I might as well through and get all I could out of It. And 1 told dignified, more Impervious to any feel- ing of slightedness, to go down, as if it were a matter of Indifference, “You can tell her I'll be down,” I sald casually. When he was out of the room, 1 falrly flew. The blue satin now. The new chif- fon stockings. The blue-and-sllver slippers, The crystal chain and brace- let. A stroke at my hair with a comb. Late as I was, I passed for a last feminine peep at the girl in the glass, She was surely doing her best for me; she might have been twenty Instead of twenty-six, with her fresh clear color,~only a hint reinforced !—her bright, light yellow hair, and the eyes that looked like deeper shadows of that frock. I was qulet poetie about myself as I hurried down the stairs. of voices came from the open doors of the dining room beyond, It was a large white room with a black floor; there were about a dozen people about a long black table with the glitter of green glass on It. At one end a woman in green, with halr that was either white or platinum, looked up and called to me, "Oh, Miss Seton-—so0 nice! your place.” It was the only wacancy between the black shoulders of the men. A butler drew back my chalr: and as I seated myself, the hostess called down: “That is Mr, Mitchell—and Mr. Deck.” The man at my left pushed a place card toward me. “I'm Mitchell,” he sald with a quick smile He had bright little black eyes, a pince-nex with a black ribbon, and a bald fore. head. The other man was the young man of the gallery. So that was Alan Deck! And 1 was beside him, after all “Monty Mitchell to my intimates” sald the one at the left. “And I can see that we are going to be intimate. " The sound There 1s Mr. Mitchell took on the duties of host, “And this is Miss Van istyn, Miss Seton” he sald of the young woman at his left, who gave me an in- stant’s view of a vague smile and clear, shallow light-brown eyes, then turned back to the man at her left, “And who Is beside her? 1 want ed to know, “That's Harrlden—don't you know him?" sald the young man: and while I murmured that 1 didn’t know a soul there, | was staring at the big, hard boned face of the famous Harriden. 1 wondered where Mrs. Harriden was: then I saw the place-card before me with her name on It. So I was filling in for Nora Harriden! There was a queer amusement in it. I had even the wonder If she was the woman whose face had been smacked, and so was staying away from dinner to hide the mark. . . . It seemed preposterous to think of Nora Harriden with a smacked face, but some woman In the group had certainly been slapped, and it was really no more preposterous to think it of her than of any of those elegant. iy gowned, suave, smiling creatures. They were all like facades, and only an occasional lighted window could reveal what went on Inside. Then 1 thought that the men were facades too, only the man at my right was a less impenetrable one, for If I knew agony of spirit, It was agony that had looked out of his tormented eyes up in that gallery. He made not the slightest effort to talk to me, but sat silent, as far as I could gather, while Mr. Mitchell claimed my attention. He wanted to know who I was, and artistic work [| did; and I was trying to put it into social words that would not reveal my too real enthusiasm when Mr. Harriden created an abrupt diversion by pushing back his chair and leaving the table, (TO BE CONTINUED) i a TOI a love-story TALL TALES As Told to: FRANK E. HAGAN and ELMO SCOTT WATSON Steel Drivin’ Man OEL 8. BISHOP, who knows the history of the Chesapeake and Ohlo rallread backward as well as for- the old-timers tell about the difficul- ties they had in driving a tunnel through Cruzee mountain. Among the negro laborers they hired was a young fellow named John Henry, a likely lad only seven or eight feet tall Right away they discovered that John Henry was a mighty good ham- mer man, even though he hadn't got his growth yet. He was so fast with his 12-pound hammer that he wore out its handle every nine minutes. He al ways had to have a boy standing by with a pall of Ice water so he could keep the hammer from melting, The result of this was that the C, and O. had to hire a gang of Tony Beaver's lumberjacks to log off the whole state of West Virginia In order to provide John Henry with enough hammer handles to keep him busy. Also they had to make the Potomac river run backwards so there'd be enough water on band to keep his hammer cool, Just about the time John Henry be- gun to wear out a handle every six and threequarter minutes, a feliow showed up with a steam-driven drill and challenged John Henry to a drill- ing contest. “Boss man, how many days’ staht you-all want so's 1 won't ketch up with yu' too soon? asked John Henry, The steam drill man sald they'd start at the same time, so at it they went. And, as everybody in the South knows. John Henry Beat dat steam drill down. Rock was high, po’ John was low, Well, he laid down his hammah an’ he died, Lald down his hammah an’ he died. It was too bad that the contest re- sulted fatally for the victor, If John Henry had ever grown up to be a full size man, he might have hung up some real records as a steel drivin’ man, The Good Ship “Wobble” HE first stories about the good ship “Wobble™ were written by Frank Ward O'Malley and printed in the New York Sun, but other news paper men have added detalls to its history. It was “O'Malley of the Sun.” however, who first interviewed its mas- ter, Capt. Heinle Hassenpfeffer, and discovered that he wasn't quite sane, Captain Heinle had been a second story man in New York. When he sought new flelds for his talepts in Africa and found that the houses there were only one story high, the disap- pointment unbalanced his mind, For that matter, his ship was a bit unbalanced also, It had only one pad- die-wheel and that was mounted on the starboard side. So when the “Wob- ble” started out on a voyage with Ite cargo of subways and artesian wells it Just steamed around snd around in a circle and pever got anywhere. To correct this defect Captain Heinle Junked the engine and paddle wheel, instalied masts and salls and set out across the Atlantic. Four and a half days out, the ship ran into what seemed to be a dense black cloud. But the captain soon found that It was a flock of mosquitoes. By the time the “Wobble” had passed through them, the insects had eaten off every scrap of sall and tarred rope from the ship. For a month the ship drifted with the tidea Off the coast of South America it sgaln ran loto a cloud of mosquitoes. By a queer colncidence it was the very same flock that had stripped the ship. Captain Heinle knew they were the same because ev- ery mosquito wore a pair of canvas overalls, made from his salls, beld up by tarred rope suspenders! A Shout for Bellow ROUND the natives will tell you some what pridefully that you'll never be able to get the best of Herman Bellow. Herman's knowledge came from a study of nature In the numerous cav- erns of his neighborhood. Unce an Englishman visited Horse Cave, so the story goes, and engaged in argument with Herman. The re- question, Sald Herman: chuck leaves no dirt when he digs a hole?” ren. _g— —-— THE CHEERFUL CHERUB All life 1s lhe a poem love and work and Fighting. ere living quite Nn epic Just of the présent writing. 87 CA"4 WNU Bervice. Move to Name Unchristened 14,000-Foot Peak Constitution Standing near Mount Whitney, highest peak In the continental United States, is an unnamed peak only about 500 feet less In height than Whitney Itself which towers 14,400 feet In the air. A formal pro. posal has been submitted to Wash. ington by the Sierra club of Califor nia that the mountain be christened Mount Constitution in 1937, the one and fiftieth anniversary of document, — Pathfinder Maga~ hundred that zine, Week’s Supply of Postum Free Read the offer made by the Postim Company in another part of this pa. per. They will send a full week's 8: p- ply of health giving Postum free to anyone who writes for it.—Ady. Man Measures All Things Man is the meter of all things, the hand is instrument of instru- ments and the mind Is the form of forma. —Aristotie, the LAL) ASK YOUR DRUGGISY Best Part of Life Best spent part of life is the time devoted to finding out what it is for. Hit—or Miss Better three hours too soon than a minute too late, CALLOUSES Don't experiment { This isthe to instant relief from pein and quick, safe, essay removal of your callouses. Sold Dr Scholls Zino-pads ' No Need to Suffer “Morning Sickness Be ps Log gles Sg Re offset by alkalis such ss magnesia Why Physicians Recommend Milnesia Wafers | pure milk of the most pleasant way to take it. Each i oh énqual 10.4 full adult magnesia. Chewed replied Herman proudly. “But how does he get to the bot tom? the Briton waried to know,
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers