SYNOPSIS James Lambert tries in vain to dissuade his beautiful foster-daughter, Leonora, from marrying Don Mason, Young “rolling stone.” He tells her, ‘Unless a house is founded vvon a rock, it will not survive. Leonora suspects the influence of her half- brother, Ned, always jealous of the girl since the day his father brought her home from the deathbed of her mother, aban: doned by her Italian baritone lover. Don arrives in the midst of the argument, and Lambert realizes the frank understanding between the two. Sitting up late into the night, Lambert reviews the whole story, of Nora as a child, at boarding school, study- ing music abroad, meeting Don on the re. turn trip. In the morning he delivers his ultimatum, to give Don a job with Ned for a year's showdown. When Nora suggests the possibility of running away with Don, Lambert threatens disinheritance Don agrees to the job, but before a month Is over, his nerves are jumpy, he cannot sleep at night, he is too tired to go out much with Nora. Nora soothes him with her music. Nora complains to her father of Ned's spy- ing on Don, and decides that rather than see his spirit broken, she will run away. She experiment. and angry. Lambert tells her that if Don quits she will quit with him; that he will be through with her. He adds that if she tires of her bargain it will be useless to come to him for help. Later Don and Nora dis- cuss the situation. Don promises to buck up. “We'll stick it out,” he says. With the coming of spring, Don is full of unrest and wanderlust, and takes long walks at night. One evening a poor girl speaks to him, and in his pity for her, he gives her money. A car passes at that moment, flashes head- lights and moves on. A terrific heat wave ushers in the summer, and Nora refuses to go to the country with her father. Ned, meanwhile, insinuates to his father about Don's evenings away from Nora, but Lam- bert refuses to listen Meanwhile, Don broods over the undermining of his morale At the height of the heat wave, when Don is finding everything insupportable, Ned speaks of having the goods on him, having seen him give a girl money. When Ned scoffs at the true story of the episode, Don knocks him down, and is through. He calls Nora, who insists on running away with him to get married, realizing it is her job to restore Don's faith in himself Her good- by to her father is met with complete si- lence. Don and Nora go to Maine and set. tle down in the studio of Carl Venable, a famous artist friend of Don's, whose daugh- ter he saved from drowning. Nora wriles her father CHAPTER VIi—Continued epee Nora covered six pages with cheer- ful nothings, and ended as she had ended all her letters to him since childhood: *‘lI love you heaps, Dad- dy, your Nora.” Nor did she omit the three black crosses below her name. They signified kisses. She had never forgotten them, even in the busy days at college or when touring Europe. The girl knew, though he had never told her in so many words, that her father would feel cheated if those crosses (first appearing in her letters when she business) were omitted. search of a kitchen apron. “Do you think he'll answer it?" she questioned, hope in her voice; and Don, who had been wondering the same thing, thought savagely: ““He’s a beast if he doesn’t!” though all he said was: “I wouldn't expect too much of him-—at first, Nora.” James Lambert did not answer that letter; but one afternoon some ten days later when they turned away from the post office, empty handed as usual, Jim Perkins, who ran not only the general store but the express office, hailed them jo- vially: “Hi there, Mr. Mason! Your wife's baggage come in on the morn- in’ train. Want I should carry it down to the shack right now?" Puzzled, they crossed the street and entered the small frame build- ing which served the American Ex- press. What, Nora was thinking, could that man mean? Then her eyes fell on the familiar steamer trunks that had accompanied her all over Europe. Beside them, neat- ly tagged with her new name, stood a wardrobe trunk that she had nev- er seen before—a handsome one. Her heart quickened when she saw that the tags were addressed in the neat, clear script of a generation that knew no typewriters—her fa- ther’s penmanship. ‘““‘He-—he has sent my things," she said to Don, her voice unsteady. “I see,” Don murmured; then to the expressman: “We're on our way home now, Jim. Send 'em along.” “You can ride on the truck, both ©’ you, just as well as not,” offered the man cheerfully. “That is,” he added with a twinkle, “if the lady's not too proud!” “She’s not.” Nora assured him, and managed a light laugh, while the man shouted to some invisible person in the rear: ‘Back the truck right up to the platform, Iry, and cart these trunks down to Mr. Ven- able’s old shack. And get a move on!” The trunks were locked. “Which means,” said Don, when they made the discovery, ‘‘that the keys are coming along by mail. I really didn’t expect your father’'d write, Nora, but perhaps he will.” “Oh, if he only would!” she an- swered; but her hope was vain. The next mail brought a registered package containing trunk keys. Nothing more. Nora, who had been opening the small box with eager fingers, flushed hotly in disappoint- ment; and Don laid a gentie hand upon her shouider. “Buck up, dear. understarfd.” “1 think,”’ she said a moment lat- er as she fitted a small brass key into its lock, ‘I think he just wanted Some day he'll to get rid of everything—everything that reminded him of-—of me, Don.” “And it's quite as likely,” ob- served her husband with character- jstic fairness, ‘‘that he knew these things would help if we were hard up. He loves you, Nora. Never for- get that.” Nora arose and put her arms around him, “Oh, Don!” she cried. “If 1 could only be sure!” James Lambert had sent daughter's entire wardrobe. “Everything from my beautiful seal coat to the gold mesh bag he gave me Christmas.” Nora spoke from the floor while she extricated this costly trinket from the toe of a smart tan over- shoe. She smiled a little. ““Dad must have packed this stuff himself, Don. Martha would never have put that gold mesh bag in such a place. Why, how queer this isi 1..." Her voice faded curiously into si- lence, and Don turned from prepar- ing lunch to join her. “What's queer?” he questioned. Nora looked up, a puzzled expres- sion clouding her eyes. ““There’s money here—here in this bag, I mean. I never carried mon- his “But she won't always be beautiful.” a dollar or so for an emergency. But this looks . . .” Don knelt beside her, taking a roll of bills from its golden hiding place. awe in his “It's ten one-hundred-dollar Nora! Are you sure, abso- that you didn’t leave it said after a moment, voice. bills, lutely, here?” She laughed unsteadily. “Of course I'm sure! Do you imagine that I went 'round carrying a thousand dollars—especially in a mesh bag for anyone to see” Even I wasn't as careless of money as all that! Dad must have put it there when he packed these things, Don. Oh, it was dear of him! How—how can anybody be so dear, and yet so hard? He bothered to pack my clothes himself. I know he did. And he sent everything—everything except my silver slippers. I won- der—"" (she glanced up wistfully) “1 wonder why he kept the slippers, Don.” “Is it so hard to guess, darling?” Don answered; and then, perhaps because she had been fighting them courageously for days, Nora's tears came, CHAPTER VII Looking back on that summer over a span of years, it seemed to Leonora Mason the most tranquil of her entire life. For Don, the adventurer, was too spent to be rest- less. He wanted only the healing peace of woods and rocks and white- capped water, these and--Nora! Slowly, steadily, his lost weight came back. His skin darkened to its accustomed tan. His buoyant step which the girl had missed so sorely, returned also, though, strangely perhaps, this was the last thing to mend. It was Don who instructed his wife in the art of cooking. “Not that I mind being chef to the Queen of Hearts,” he told her, “but you've got to learn, Madam. Come times when your man gets home after a hard day's work he'll want his dinner. But I wouldn't be- gin with soups, if I were you,” he added cautiously. ‘‘That tomato bisque—"’ - Laughter sprang into his eyes as they met hers; and Nora said: “You were a hero to swallow it! My fa- ther would have thrown the whole mess out the door. Do you I'll ever, ever learn, Don?” She looked so like a troubled lit- tle girl, this usually sophisticated bride of his, that Don pulled him- self out of the big chair to secure a kiss. “Of course you'll learn! The fried potatoes this noon were marvel- ous: and those last biscuits melted in my mouth.” “Fried potatoes!” scornfully. “A new-born could fry potatoes, Don!" It was a happy time; and the rainy morning when Don opened the crates and boxes which threat- ened to crowd all firewood from the shed—things he had found in far, far corners of the world, was a red- letter occasion, never forgotten by Leonora. It was these treasures (though her unsuspecting husband didn't guess it till long after) which gave the girl her first sharp long- ing for a home. Hitherto she had thought only of possessing Don; but as she dropped to her knees in rap- ture before an arm chair of red lacquer exquisitely decorated with mother-of-pearl inlay, something within her that is a part of every normal woman, stirred to life. Don smiled, watching the dreams he did not understand, dawn in her eyes. “Like it, my dear? I've a nest of small red tables, too. Beautiful, all of them. And somewhere 'round is a piece of flawless cloisonne that'll make your eyes shine. I found it in Tokyo—pure rose du Barry, with a flight of butterflies spanning the entire bowl. Got it for almost noth- ing, too; though I'll admit that chair Nora echoed infant a single yen! “And see here, girl!” (He was prying up a box cover.) “When I first saw this candelabra it was the property of a Russian nobleman, a post-war exile. It's said to have be- longed to a Czar of all the Russias, though you may season that story with a grain of salt. 1 bought it partly because it's such a beautiful example of Russian brass; but prin- cipally because the Grand Duke (or whatever the poor guy was) looked hungry. There!" He held aloft an eight-branch candlestick. “A stun- ner, isn't it?" “Oh, Don!” breathed Nora. "I— needed nourishment!" Don laughed, dived into a corner for another box and stared at it, puzzled. “Wonder what's here. 1 seem to remember some Venetian glass, and—By George! I've completely forgotten the jade pendant! We sim- ply must dig up that pendant, Nora, for you can wear it now, not wait, as you'll have to for these other things unfil we're old, and wrin- kled, and settled down. Somehow I can’t just see us settled down, darling.” “It wouldn't be so bad to settle been in funds when you purchased that!” Her husband smiled, seated him- self upon a packing case and an- swered, eyes dreamy with reminis- cence: “You're quite mistaken. I bought this teapot of a most gentle- manly bandit, during that Chinese rebellion in which I had the luck to figure; and paid him what amount- ed to about six-fifty of our money. It was loot, of course; but I ar- gued that since someone was des- tined to get a bargain, it might as well be I. Isn't it a marvelous in some museum, I suppose; but it's yours, lady, if you care to keep it.” Nora reached out, lifting the piece of jade with reverence. “What 1 can’t understand,” she said after a moment, “is why a man like you, with no home and no desire for a home, should spend his money collecting things of this sort. What makes him, Don?” - “Love of beauty,” replied the young man promptly. “If strong enough, my dear, the love of beauty will account for almost any crime. Didn't 1 steal my very wife from her adoring if unreasonable father, simply because she was so beautiful I couldn't endure the thought of a long life without her?” “But she won't always be beau- tiful,”” the girl reminded him. “She will to me,” Don countered. “Beauty is more, so much more than skin deep, Nora. I wasn’t re- ferring to that patrician nose which you're so proud of, or your level brows, or those starry eyes that transform you into a sort of dream come true; but to something intan- gible—something deep down within, dearest: the thing that made you relinquish a fortune for a tramp like me. There!” he exclaimed, slipping lightly from the packing case, ‘‘that’'s off my chest. I've wanted to say it for a long time and was too shy.” “You shy?’ scoffed Nora; but the eyes she lifted to him were in- deed stars. “And now,” said Don, “I'm going to find that pendant. Jade is a sym- bol of virtue to the Chinese, you know; and unless my eyes deceived me when I bought the thing from an impoverished coolie (more loot, I fear!), it's lovely enough for that most virtuous of wives—my own.” He made her a formal little bow, and Nora retaliated, laughing: “You talk like a book! And you must have learned that bow in dancing school. But you've aroused my curiosity re- garding the pendant, Don. Where shall we look?" . They found the pendant: a thing of such rare beauty that the girl declared she should regard it as her wedding gift. They found an ivory elephant {from Belgium; and a vase from Dresden so feminine and dainty that Nora laughed at the thought of a mere man’s buying it. “But I bought it for my wife,” explained Don soberly. ‘‘She must have been in kindergarten at the time." “While her husband, a kiddie of eleven, toured Germany alone?” asked Nora, rising to put the tea- pot back in its case. ‘This jade is too valuable to be left here indefi- nitely, Don. What shall we do with i" “Ship it to Ven's studio in New York. A friend of his looks after things while they're abroad. He's got my rugs. I couldn't leave 'em here for fear of moths, you know." “Rugs!” gasped Nora, sinking limply into the priceless chair. “On top of all these treasures do you possess rugs?’ “Only three, lady.” Don spoke as if confessing a grave fault. “But rugs, if you must know the bitter truth, are my pet weakness; and the three in question—well, wait till you see em!" His wife drew in a deep breath of astonishment. “Isis there anything more?” Don had to laugh as he respond- ed: “Books, my dear. Too many of 'em to unpack here. 1 lose my mind when I go into a bookstore; and unless you want your children to go barefoot, Nora, you must lead me gently but firmly away from such temptation.” She smiled; then after a moment observed thoughtfully: “1 seem to have married a most surprising individual. But why, may 1 inquire, when Father was probing your deplorable lack of pank balance, didn’t you mention these treasures you've collected?” The young man stared at her, eyes widening. (TO BE CONTINUED) Prospectors for iron ore, though they may be hard-boiled and weath- erbeaten, may have to know their orchids and have some knowledge of botany, says Steel Facts. In many regions in this country and others distinctivie vegetation definitely indicates a soil condition associated with deposits of iron ore, and knowledge of this fact helps the prospector. In Brazil and Venezuela iron is found where a certain type of rare and beautiful orchid blooms. In the latter country, moreover, the pres- ence of a little tree called the *‘co- pey”’ invariably indicates iron ore deposits. The ore deposits of Cuba support swept away accumulations of dis- tinctly iron-bearing soil. However, in the southern part of the United States, which was not overridden by glaciers, the outcrop of iron-bearing formations can be traced through distinctive vegeta- tion. In the Southeast, for instance, the iron-ore deposits are commonly overgrown with cedar in much thicker growths than are found in non-iron bearing soil. In the east Texas “brown ore’ field outcrops of the ore-bearing green sand sup- port relatively heavy growths of hardwood, almost the only hard- wood in the locality. Captain Kidd Parson's Son One of the most celebrated pirates of all time was the son of a Scotch minister, according to the Standard American Encyclopedia. He was William Kidd. 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