© Ben Ames Willams,
CHAPTER 1
w——
Barbara, dancing with Robb Mor-
rison and more and more distressed
by his too obvious devotions, met
Helen Frayne's eye as they passed
on the floor; and Helen laughed at
something her partner had said, in
a metallic mirthless fashion, and
avoided Barbara's glance. Barbara
looked around for rescue; and Robb
said, whispering in her ear:
“Say, Helen's got her eye on me!
Let's duck, go outside.”
Now this party was Helen
Frayne's, at the Club in Essex; and
Robb was Helen's too, as everyone
knew. But tonight—he met Bar-
bara before dinner for the first time
—he had made Barbara and him-
self conspicuous by his attentions.
So she was at once uncomfortable
and unhappy—and a little afraid of
what Helen might do. Helen was
nice enough; yet she could be cruel
too.
Barbara declined Robb's invitation
to promenade; she said: ‘‘No, let's
not! Robb, find Johnny, will you
please? He has my compact in his
pocket.”
“Come on,” he urged. “We'll both
go hunt for him!” He took her
cheerfully by the arm.
But she freed herself. ‘“Sh-h!
No!" she whispered. ‘You must go
rescue Helen. See! She's stuck with
Luke Tydings.”
He laughed, shook his head.
“Don’t want to be a rescuer,” he
protested, a little thickly. “Just
want to dance and dance and dance
with you, forever and ever. How
about a little punch?”
‘No, thanks!” Barbara had ac-
cepted one cocktail before dinner,
since it was easier to do so than to
refuse; but she used that one as a
shield, barely tasted it, so that her
full glass protected her against per-
suasions to take another. Not ev-
eryene had been so discreet. Robb,
for instance, was certainly in no
need of another glass of punch. “Do
run along,” she insisted now, good-
humored but insistent: and she
turned and gave him a small thrust
toward Helen yonder across the
floor.
She realized, too late, that Helen
was watching them, had seen her
do this. Worse, Robb marched
straight to Helen, saluted, and said
—much too loudly, “Barbara says I
must report for duty, Helen!”
So naturally, some people
laughed; and Helen was red with
anger. Her eyes met Barbara's
across the floor.
And that was why Helen deliber-
ately set to work to get Johnny
Boyd drunk. For Barbara had come
with Johnny, driving down from
Boston. She liked him well enough.
He was a gay youngster, still at
Harvard, gentle and amusing and
good fun; and he usually remem-
bered his responsibilities. Tonight
he had cut in on Robb once or twice,
till Robb began to cut back so quick-
ly that people noticed and laughed;
and Johnny got a little mad.
“I'll knock him endways if he cuts
back this time,” he told Barbara;
and she said in pleading urgency:
‘No, Johnny! Don’t have a row!
I'll get rid of him. Here he comes
now."
Johnny obeyed her: but when a
little later Barbara sent Robb to
Helen, Johnny had disappeared;
and someone else danced with Bar-
bara, and before she could escape,
Helen captured Johnny. They went
out of doors somewhere, and Bar-
bara could only wait for them to
return; and when they came back
again and began to dance together,
Barbara saw what had happened.
Helen had done her work well. John-
ny was first red, then pale, then red
again; and his feet were stumbling
and uncertain.
Someone cut in on them and took
Helen and left Johnny tottering in
the middle of the floor; and Barbara
guided her partner that way,
thanked him, dismissed him, turned
to Johnny.
He said, “Hi, Barb!” His arm en-
circled her.
evening?”
She steadied him skillfully. “I’ve
a frightful headache, Johnny! And
home?”’
suspicion.
right, Barb!”
“Of course you are! You're fine.
1 hate to drag you away, but I'm
simply exhausted, Johnny.”
He said elaborately: “Well, of
course in that case! Always the gen-
tleman; that’s me. Damsel in dis-
tress! Women and children first.
Don’t spare the horses. Le’s go!”
“Thanks, Johnny. I'll meet you
in the hall.”
They went to say good-night. Hel-
en said mockingly, “Oh, going so
early, Barb?”
“It's been a lovely party,” Bar-
bara assured her.
When they came to the car, John-
ny said:
“Thanks for getting me out of
that, Barb! I'm drunk. Cocked as
a mink! I'm sorry as the Devil. But
~do you mind driving? I don’t want
to hang you on a telephone pole
somewhere.”
She said gratefully: “Of course
not. I'll drive, but you'll be all right
presently. We'll open the wind-
shield, get a lot of air.”
“Sorry to make a show of my-
self. It hit me all of a sudden.”
“I understand.”
When they were under way, he
slumped beside her and was pres-
ently asleep. The night was cool, in
early fall. She stopped the car once
to turn up his coat collar and adjust
his scarf against a chill. He snored
heavily; and as she drove on she
considered the problem now pre-
sented. This was Johnny's car. If
she took him to Cambridge, she
would have to find a taxi to her
home. If she went directly to her
home, Johnny would have to drive
to Cambridge alone—and for that
he was in no condition.
She decided to try to bring him
back to sobriety again, before they
came to Boston; and she turned off
the main highway down a short spur
road that ended above the rocky
shore, and stopped the car and tried
He half dragged Johnny Boyd out
of the car, set him on his feet. John-
ny promptly hit him. He flung him-
self at the officer so violently that
the policeman was borne backward
and fell, and Johnny swarmed on
top of him, and Barbara tried to
come at them and was tossed aside
by the violence of their movements,
and the officer got to his feet and
dragged Johnny upright, and said
urgently, “Hey, buddy, behave!”
Another car turned down the
road, its lights upon them. Barbara
cried, ‘Please, Johnny!”
But Johnny was violent; the po-
liceman said wearily, “All right, if
you want it.”’ His blow landed with
a sharp, slapping sound; and John-
ny went limply down, and Barbara
protested unhappily,
“Oh, did you have to do that?"
The officer was apologetic. ‘Best
thing for him, Miss. He'll wake up
take you home, then bring him some
clothes in the morning before he
has to go to court. There's no need
of your being mixed up in this.”
And Barbara in the end surren-
dered; and the officer approving,
she and Professor Brace got into
his car and drove away. After they
had been some silent moments on
the road past Revere toward Bos-
ton, he asked stiffly, “Now, where
do you live?”
She told him.
try,” she said.
to go.”
“You choose curious company,”
he suggested. ‘‘Why does an intel-
ligent girl like you get herself mixed
up in a mess like this?"
“Don’t you ever find yourself in
silly messes? You talk as if you
were a thousand years old.”
“I'm twenty-eight, if that mat-
ters.”
She said, amused: “And already
so serious? I suppose, being a pro-
fessor, you think you have to bel!”
He was silent, and they came to
the Tunnel entrance, and he paid
“I'm Barbara Sen-
“I'll tell you where
to wake him up, to make him get
out of the car and breathe deeply
and walk up and down. But when
she shook him, he only roused
enough to mumble protests and go
back to sleep again. She remem-
bered hearing that you could wake
a drunken man by slapping his face,
and she tried this; and Johnny mut-
tered to himself, and someone be-
side the car said harshly “What's
going on here?”
Barbara turned and saw a police-
man standing at her elbow, peering
in at them. She said, “It's all right,
officer.” .
But Johnny was awake now.
““Sure’s all right!” he declared; and
in alcoholic belligerence demanded,
“What do you want to make out of
LY
The policeman said, “All right,
buddy, pipe down.” He asked Bar-
bara, “Handle him all right, can
you?”
“Oh, yes. I just want to get him
out of the car, get him to walk up
and down.”
‘““He’'s a fine one to get in this
shape with a nice girl on his
hands!” -
“It isn't quite all his fault, offi-
cer.”
“I'll help you cool him .down,”
the policeman decided. He went
to the other side of the car and
opened the door and said, “Come
on, buddy, a little fresh air will fix
you up all right.”
teach him something, to wake up in
jail!"
“I'll go with you.
him."
Someone touched her arm, and
she whirled, and a man said, “Can
I help in any way?" There was a
moment's silence of surprise. The
newcomer explained: “I'm Profes-
sor Brace, Harvard Business
School. If I can be of service?”
It was the officer who answered
him. "You might take the young
lady home, Professor,” he suggest-
ed. “The boy here has had a drop
too many. I had to slap him down.
He'll sleep it off in the station; but
it would be too bad to have a nice
girl—""
“But I want to take care of him,”
Barbara insisted. ‘I can’t run out
on him.”
Professor Brace said, “You seem
sober.”
“Of course I am!”
“Then you ought to be sensible.
Come along. I'll see you safe home;
and the officer will give your gallant
young escort a break in court!”
The policeman added his urgen-
cies. “Yes, ma'am, you do that.
Drunk and disorderly, five dollars.
That's all.”
“But he can't go to court in din-
ner clothes!”
The professor's tone held a grudg-
ing approval. “You're a loyal
young woman. Suppose we do this.
You tell me where he lives. I'll
I can’t leave
toll and went on. In the Tunnel she
said contritely: “I'm sorry. I was
horrid to be sarcastic! And I am
all this bother.”
“If you picked your escorts a lit-
tle more carefully, you wouldn't re-
quire rescue.”
fessor,” she urged, smiling.
“You're not in a classroom now."
They emerged from the Tunnel;
and as he swung to the right, he
allow a car coming from the left to
Brace caught a glimpse of the man
at the wheely and as they followed
surprise:
car. He must have been down at
the office.”
“At the office? At this time of
night? It's quarter past twelve!”
“He has to go down sometimes,”
she explained. “Don’t pass him.
Let's let him get home before we
do. He gives me the dickens when
I'm out late.”
“Not very effectively, I should
say,” he commented; but he did
slow down, kept half a block behind
the other car. And they talked now
not so much of Johnny as of each
other. It was his turn to make apol-
ogies.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
put to a fiery test.
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lating—especially so when one
letter like this:
Your draw-
I never
knew there were so many good
have made,
low cases. 1 like to buy sheeting
and pillow case tubing by the yard
to fit different beds.
gest some kind of trimming? 1
want will wash
well and ths
on the
I wr
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machine,
Sincerely, T.
.
ook 2, Embroidery, Gifts
book is a suggestion that
about fills her requirements,
just
and
for those of you who are keeping
scrap books of these sewing les-
| sons as they appear in the paper,
here is an idea for contrasting fac-
| ings for sheets and pillow cases.
| The diagram shows each step in
| the making of the colored facings.
{ Make your own cardboard pattern
for the scallops by drawing part
way around a small plate or sau-
cer. Use this pattern to mark and
cut the scallops. After the scal-
lops are cut, turn the raw edge
| over the cardboard pattern with
a warm iron as shown.
With the help of M
300k 1-SEWING, for the Home
Decorator,
the things you have been w
for the house. Book
ery and Gifts is
ways lo use
You can make many of
Books are 25 cents each.
order be crazypatcl
leaflet i 38 authen-
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dress: Sp
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| sell.
Mrs.
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Spe, —
He's That
entertaining the prospect of mat-
rimony?
Daughter—Not quite, dad. He
won't be here until eight o'clock.
A gold digger is a girl who takes
her fund where she finds it,
Earnest Money
“Am I rightly informed that you
are offering a reward for the dog
“Good gracious, have you found
my Fifi?”
‘No, but I intend looking for it
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Fie = { \ :
Another Insect
First Picnicker—I feel a lethar-
gy creeping over me.
{ Second Picnicker — Yes,
grass is full of them.
the
That's Easy
Little Cuthbert—I can never tell
which is “‘d”’ and which is “b.”
Little Betty—Oh, the “b" is the
one with the stomach in back.
| Say what you will of swimming,
| it's certainly a clean sport.
His Fault!
“You were right, Henry, and I
was wrong."
“Forgive me, dear.”
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