© Ben Ames Williams. SYNOPSIS Barbara Sentry, seeking to sober up her escort, Johnnie Boyd, on the way home from a party, slaps him, and attracts the attention of a policeman, whom the boy knocks down. As he arrests him, Professor Brace of Harvard comes to the rescue and drives Barbara home. On the way they see Barbara's father driving from the direction of his office at 12:45, but when he gets home he tells his wife it is 11:15 and that be's been playing bridge at the club. CHAPTER I—Continued — Mrs. Sentry poured coffee, and Oscar, who had served them for a dozen years, hesitated at the table as Mr. Sentry said: ‘‘Oscar, tell Eli he'd better take me in today. I'll be ready in five minutes.” He be- gan to eat, hurriedly ‘Barbara not awake?’ he asked. ‘“Oh, she may sleep till noon. She was probably late getting in. Did you hear her, Mary?” Mary shook her head. She asked her father, ‘‘Can you drop me at the hospital on the way to town?” “Of course!” he told her. He asked, a little impatiently, ‘Paper not here yet, Oscar?” “I think the boy forgot us this morning,’ the man replied. ‘‘Nel- lie says she saw him go by, but when I looked, just before you came down, the paper wasn’t there.” He added, “The car is ready, sir.” “All right. Thanks,” Mr. Sentry agreed. ‘‘Ready, Mary?” “Soon as I get my hat on.” She went into the hall. He rose, stooped to kiss Mrs. Sen- try on the cheek she turned to him; and she followed them to the door to watch them drive away, in the high - topped old limousine with brass side lamps, and with old Eli, gardener, chauffeur, and general handy man, who had served them through all the years of their mar- riage, at the wheel. Mrs. Sentry liked old things, things with dig- nity, about her. The Sentrys were an old, fine family. Mrs. Sentry had been a sea captain's daughter, had met Arthur during his youthful summers on the Cape. She thought this morning with a familiar con- tent that she had married wisely and well. Turning back into the house, she heard a warning hiss, and Barbara peered down at her from the upper hall. Mrs. Sentry said: “Oh, awake, are you? Why didn't you come down to breakfast?” “Is he gone?” Barbara demanded in a dramatic whisper. “The coast clear?” “Your father? Of course.” Barbara, with exaggerated cau- tion, on tiptoe, came down the stairs. Mrs. Sentry, thinking proud- ly how pretty the girl was, smiled at Barbara's pretended stealth and asked: “What have you been up to now, you imp?" “I stole his morning paper,” Bar- bara confessed. “See!” She pro- duced it from behind her. *I was watching for the boy, and when he came I slipped down and got it. I even bolted the front door after- ward so Oscar wouldn't know.” “Why?" her mother asked in sud- den concern. “Barbara! Have you got yourself into the headlines?” “I was afraid I had!” They were at table now. ‘But I didn’t. There's not even anything about Johnny.” “What happened?” Barbara laughed softly. “It was really exciting,” she declared. “When Johnny hit the policeman I fairly squealed. After that, of course, he had to put poor Johnny in jail, and I'd have been stranded if Professor Brace hadn't come along.” Mrs. Sentry said drily, “Suppose you start at the beginning, Bar- bara.” Barbara considered. “Well, Hel- en Frayne deliberately got Johnny drunk,” she said. “I suppose that was the beginning. So I persuaded him to start home. He was really awfully nice about it.” “I'm sure he gets drunk in a most gentlemanly way!” Barbara laughed. “There, now you're being severe! I love to shock you, mother! You ought to be sorry for poor Johnny, instead of being 80 sarcastic!” “lI stil don’t know what hap- pened.” “Well, when we started home, Johnny knew he couldn't drive, so he asked me to, and I did, of course; but I didn't want to take him to Cambridge and then have to take a taxi out here; and Johnny was in no shape to drive. So I turned down toward the ocean and parked so he could get some air.” “lf he was drunk, why not let someone else take care of him? Why did you have to—"" “Oh, 1 had to stand by!” “Noblesse oblige?’ Mrs. Sentry’s tones were scornful. “I thought it was up to me,” Bar- bara confessed simply. Her mother relented. it was. Go on.” Barbara nodded. “But I couldn’t wake him up. They say if you slap their faces that helps; so I did, and just then the biggest policeman in the world came along and wanted to know what the trouble was, “Perhaps “I told him it was all right, but when he tried to help, and got John- ny out of the car, Johnny hit him, and they began to fight. So the po- liceman had to knock him out. And then Professor Brace came along and offered to help, so he brought me home, and he was going to take Johnny some clothes this morning so Johnny wouldn't have to go to court in his dinner jacket.” ““And who is Professor Brace?” ‘““He’'s a professor in the Harvard Business School, and he's ever so disapproving and respectable. You'd love him, mother.” Her tone was affectionately derisive. ‘‘He looked at me just the way you're looking now." Mrs. Sentry smiled. *“I don’t mean to—look that way, Barbara. It's just that you young people be- wilder me a little, sometimes.” “Poor dear!” Barbara murmured. “That's just what Professor Brace said. That was afterward, while he was bringing me home.” She hesi- tated, and Mrs. Sentry had a sud- den impression that the girl was holding something back; but she was too wise to ask questions, to force a reluctant confidence. ‘“‘He brought me home,’ Barbara repeated. “And of course on the way I thanked him, and told him who I was, and he said I kept very bad company. As if a girl could al- ways pick and choose! And he told me who he was—" The telephone rang; they heard Oscar go to answer it, and Mrs. Sentry listened half to him, half to Barbara. “And he lectured me like a Dutch uncle,” Barbara explained, “and I told him he talked as if he were a thousand years old, but it turned out that he was only twenty-eight. He's nice, even if he is serious. I suppose, being so young, and a pro- fessor and everything, he thinks he has to be.” Mrs. Sentry called to Oscar, “Did they want Mr. Sentry, Oscar?” The old man came to the door. “Yes, Mrs. Sentry. It was his of- fice. I told them he was on his way.” ‘Is anything wrong?” “They seemed anxious to get hold of him." “1 wonder why.” Mrs. Sentry re- flected. Oscar made no suggestion. “Probably just business,” she de- cided, and spoke to Barbara. “And Professor Brace brought you home?” “Yes.” Again that odd hesitation; then she added: “We sat and talked for a while, outside. He's coming Sunday evening to call!” Her eyes were dancing. “I think he plans to reform me, mother!” “Well, I hope he does!” “l hope he tries,” agreed. ‘I like him. would be rather fun!” Barbara I think it CHAPTER II Mrs. Sentry liked to think of her- self as extremely busy. She often said, a little complacently, “My days are so full, you know!" This morning, after breakfast and the mail—there was a letter from Phil at New Haven—she consulted with cook, and then for an hour or two she was engaged with Miss Simpkins, the sempstress who came in by the day. While she was being fitted, she heard the limousine return, and wondered whether Eli would know why the office had telephoned to Arthur. But Eli was deaf, and—it could have been nothing worth in- quiry. Their lives had long since assumed a pattern. They dined with their friends; their friends dined with them; they went to the Sym- phony in the fall before going South for the winter; they saw the better plays. Arthur had his golf on week- ends, in a foursome of years’ stand- ing that included Dean Hare, Judge Ray, and Ernest Waring. The Hares were probably their most in- timate friends. Gus Loran, Arthur's partner, did not play golf. Riding was his sport. They exchanged din- ners with the Lorans, but not often, because of Mrs. Loran. They were on old and cordial terms with a dozen or a score of families like their own. Mrs. Sentry thought of their ordered lives complacently. Then, remembering Barbara's ad- venture the night before, she hoped Barbara would, another time, be wiser, and that Johnny Boyd would be sobered by his thrashing at the policeman’s hands, and she won- dered what It was that Barbara had decided not to tell her. Then she heard voices on the tennis court be- hind the house, and looked out and saw Barbara playing with Linda Dane; and she watched the two young girls, slender, graceful, play- ing hard tennis in a way that made it look easy, in a fashion so con- trolled and smooth they seemed to move to music as though in a dance. Then the set ended and the girls came toward the house and Mrs. Sentry could hear their voices in Barbara's room, raised to be audi- ble above the hiss of the shower. When Miss Simpkins finished with Mrs. Sentry, Barbara--hair in tight wet curls on the nape of her neck from the shower, slender and love- ly in her slip—took her turn while Linda watched, and the two chat- tered happily together. When Mrs. Sentry was dressed for the luncheon—Mrs. Keith Urban would call for her—she went to ask whether Barbara would be at home for luncheon. Barbara explained: “No. I'm lunching with Linda, and we're going to a movie, and tea at the Ritz.” Tires grated on the drive, and Mrs. Sentry said: ‘‘“Here’s Mrs. Ur- ban. Then I'll see you at dinner, Barbara.” She went down the stairs. Luncheon was pleasant, even though Miss Glen—she was an English nov- elist—did monopolize the conversa- tion. Mrs. Sentry, listening to her lecture afterward, thought Miss Glen interesting but inclined to pa- tronize. She remembered vaguely a phrase, “On a certain condescension in Englishmen,” and wondered who said it, and it annoyed her that she could not remember certainly, and then she began to be sleepy, and had to stifle yawns, and wished there were a window open some- where. Mrs. Furness’ furnace must be on. It was too early to start furnaces, Mrs. Sentry thought. Open fires were enough to banish the occasional chill of these early fall days. El had protested yester- day at the amount of firewood he had to carry in every day. She won- dered again whether Eli knew why the office had telephoned for Arthur this morning; but Arthur would be home by a little after five, to tell her. It was past four now. Then Miss Glen had finished; and Mrs. Sentry, when she and Mrs. Urban were in the car, said in dry distaste, ‘Alice feels she's responsi- ble for our cultural life, doesn’t she?” “I like Miss Glen's books,” Mrs. Urban confessed. “They're good enough,” Mrs. Sen- try agreed. ‘But it's a pity a woman who can write as well as Miss Glen does should feel called upon to try to talk. I thought her deadly!” Mrs. Urban subsided meekly. Very few people argued with Mrs. Sentry. Sip prided herself on speak- ing her mind, had sometimes a bit- ing tongue; and when she expresed an opinion it was in the tones of an oracle. Mrs. Urban was faintly re- lieved to drop her presently at her own door. Mrs. Sentry expected to find Ar- thur already at home; but Oscar said he had not yet arrived. ‘Miss Sentry and Doctor Ray are in the living-room," he explained. Mary, when Mrs. Sentry joined them said, “Neil brought me home, and I made him stop for tea.” “Have you rung?’ Mrs. Sentry asked. Mary had; and Oscar pres- ently brought in the tray. Mrs. Sen- try poured, and she suggested that Neil stay to dinner; but Mary said: ‘“He can't, mother. I'm dining out. At the Lorans'." She saw the older woman's ex- pression of surprise, and said: “Oh, I know, mother. But Mrs. Loran asked me three weeks ago, by tele- phone; gave me no chance to think up an excuse. What could I do?” “Nothing,” Mrs. Sentry confessed. Mrs. Loran was of course a vulgar nobody, whom she herself had al- ways held at a distance. Barbara would simply and honestly have de- clined this invitation; but Mary's standards were conventional as her mother’s. There were things one did not do. Mrs. Sentry herself would have felt compelled to accept an invitation given three weeks in ad- vance, unless the truth would serve as a reason for refusal Neil Ray said now in a jocular tone: “‘Pshaw, Mary! You know you'll enjoy yourself. Mr. Loran al- ways makes love to you.” ‘““He makes love to everyone when he's had a drink or two.” “Well,” he insisted cheerfully, “Endle’s good company—they say.” Mary met her mother’s eyes. “Mr. Endle’s calling for me, moth- er,” she explained defensively. “Aft- er all, he’s Mrs. Loran's brother, and she suggested it. I couldn't very well refuse.” Mrs. Sentry said, “I suppose not!” She heard the front door open, called, “We're in here, Arthur.” Mr. Sentry came to join them and she saw that he was tired. “Hullo, Ray,” he said, shaking hands with the other man. “Hullo, Mary.” He declined tea. “I'd rather have a cocktail. Shall I ring?” “Do,” Mrs. Sentry assented. She perceived that something had dis- tressed him; but she asked no ques- tions, thinking he might prefer not to speak before Neil Ray. Yet he said at once, ‘“It’s been an upsetting day.” And he explained, “The of- fice was robbed last night.” ‘““Robbed?’” Mrs. Sentry echoed, incredulously. “‘But there's nothing there to steal! Except oranges!” “Oh, there's always some money in the safe. Some of the truckmen who peddle their wares pay in cash, you know.” He added soberly: “But that's not the worst of it. A girl was killed.” There was an instant’s dreadful silence. Mrs. Sentry asked through dry lips: “A girl? One of your em- ployees?” ‘‘No,”” he said; but he added: “She did work for us for a while last summer, during the vacation season, when we were short-hand- ed. Miss Randall got her from busi- ness school. She was only with us about two weeks. Her name was Miss Wines.” Oscar brought cocktails, but Doc- tor Ray declined one. “I'm on duty tonight,” he explained, and rose. “You'll be wanting to dress, Mary,” he said. “I'll go along.” Mrs. Sentry thought he felt his presence here an intrusion; but Ma- ry, watching her father, said: “No, stay. We're not dining till eight.” Neil remained standing, uncer- tainly; and Mrs. Sentry asked, “But how was she killed, Arthur?” “Shot,” he said. "Shot in the back. They found her in the upper hall this morning, outside our of- fices."”” And he spoke again to Neil Ray, explaining to him, seeming to find relief in his own words. “Mr. Loran and 1 have our offices on the top floor, the third floor. It's an old brick building, down in the market district of course. His office is in front and mine in back, with a re- ception room between. Switchboard, and some typewriter desks. Our let- ters are handled there. Our book- keeping and so on is done on the second floor, and on the street level, the routine business. Of course mostly we sell directly from the re- frigerator cars.” “But what was she doing there?” Mary asked; and she added: “I think I met her last summer, father. You remember the day I came down from York to do some shopping and had lunch with you? She was taking some letters when I came in to get you, and you introduced her. Lit. tle, and rather pretty, and innocent looking? I'm sure I met her.” “Probably you did,” he agreed. “1 don't recall.” going.” “You needn't hurry, Neil, really,” Mary urged. Mrs. Sentry said, “Mary, don't you see Doctor Ray is embarrassed, wants to get away?” Ray started to protest; but was silent as Oscar brought the Transcript. took it, looked at the front page. ‘““Here it is,” he said, and was silent, reading the brief story under its small headline. (TO BE CONTINUED) The terrier is a tailor-made dog. He's a product of civilization, being no more a creature of the wild than his boss. It's just as fitting for a terrier to spend his life ungroomed as it is for the gentlemen of the era to wander unshaven. Or, for that matter, for the ladies to defy the dictates of fashion, to the last hair- dresser, and be natural, asserts an authority in the Washington Star, By grooming is meant stripping and plucking. Every one knows that a dog of the heavy-coated type must shed, come springtime. Otherwise there are skin troubles and general discomfort. Terriers fall under this classification. Of course, if Pups isn’t plucked he'll shed some. And if dad's hair wasn’t cut it'd shed some, too, after it had grown as long as Mother Nature intended in the first place. When Pups is re- lieved of his winter coat in the proper manner, he emerges a ca- nine fashion plate. Taking terriers as a whole, pluck- ing makes the greatest difference in a wire fox terrier. Scotties and sealyhams, etc., still resemble scot- ties and sealybams with all their CLASSIFIED DEPARTMENT HOUSEHOLD COMFORTERS Clubs. Rovelty and bingo users. Tipe wade wpe: cially for this trade. Opporiunity w buy direct from manufacturer and save widdleman’s profit. Address Phils. P. 0. Box 85, 9th St. Annex, Phila, Pa. THOSE P. 0. PENS The determined-looking lady was trying to fill out a money order ap- | the post office. She made several | trials, but in vain, says the Montreal | with a glare as she demanded: CHICKS BR. AND WH, ROCKS, REDS AND BR, | CROSBES., AIl' hatched from selected | Blood -Tested Breeders. Hatches weekly. MILFORD HATCHERY Milford Road nr. Liberty Rd., Plkesvilie, FP. 0. ROCKDALE, MD. Pikesville 36-1, Here's an Answer to School Hat Problem | when signing Magna Charta?” | The official replied: “Informa- | tion at the next window, please.” You Better Not | Amos—When yo'all gwine pay dat note? | ‘“Ah ain't got no money now, but | Ah gwine pay just as soon as Ah kin," “Dat don’t git me no nothin’,” re- torted Amos. *‘If you'all don’t pay | me here an’ now, Ah gwine burn up your old note; den where all you gwine be at?" “You better not! You better not!" shouted Nat. “You just burn dat note of mine and Ah'll burn you up wid a lawsuit.” —American Legion Monthly. I'll Be Back Later The young man, in faultless eve- ning dress, came hurrying into the police station early in the evening and placed his suitcase on the coun- ter of the charge-room. “Hey, what's that?” sergeant in charge. “O, just my pajamas, shaving tackle, and what-not,”” came the cool response. “I'm just going off to a party with the boys and, as far as I can see, I'm pretty certain to be along here later on.” asked the POISON GAS “Run for your life, Jack, we al- most ran into that bag of Paris Green.” Matter of Choice “Tell me, captain,” said one of the passengers on the cruise, “do you think a light diet or an ordinary meal is the best preventive for sea- sickness?’’ “Well,"”" said the captain, a keen bridge player, thoughtfully, “it really depends on whether you pre- fer to discard from weakness or strength.” Do as the Lord Does “1 was rather surprised to hear that you were thinking of marriage again, Mrs. Jones,” said the vicar. “Let me see—this is the fifth time, isn't it?" “Yes,” replied Mrs. fiantly, “and as often as takes ‘em, so will L.” Jones, de- Heaven Handling Him | Manager—I just learned that this fellow you wrestle next Tuesday used to be a sailor. Wrestler—Well, I ain't supersti- tious, Mike, but you wait till next Tuesday and watch me throw that salt over my left shoulder. Teacher's Privilege Professor—Are you teaching this i class? Pupil—N-N-N-No, sir. Professor—Then stop acting like a fool. SEASIDE WORRIES it's heavy coated. a floor mop. painless. An instrument is used that resembles a short-toothed comb, with sharp edges. This “stripper” is run through the coat (by hand), thinning it down and shaping it up. Dead hairs, ready to come out any- way, are plucked between the thumb and finger. All in all, there's nothing to it to give the dog any discomfort. Nails are clipped and filed, furnishing the manicure, and Pups is washed and ready to be admired. The job can be done for a small sum, including everything. Carried Coffin With Her Mini fany | now that Sarah rnhardt, great car- Fld ha Cole Sa har every night on a trestie made espe- cially to hold it, | was down here all alone, hubby?" By RUTH WYETH SPEARS Here is a cunning schoolgirl hat that's easy to make. You need two pieces of goods—one for the hat and one for the lining. They may either or contrast. Fach piece should be 1-inch longer than the measurement around the largest part of the child's head. The depth of the pieces should be half their length. The diagram at match he uppe sketch hows tern for y make a paper pat- he hat Cut a square piece of paper '%.-inch wider and deeper than half the meas- urement. Mark point A on the ight edge { way between the Points ked at the center top and bottom of the paper dotted |] are guide lines to help i lines between A Point D i + nf H . nt of the top oy now to + + nead as shown. The nes shape the curv and B the cen h 2 1 and C and D. in cutting eac The diagonal £1 ¢ 4 are 18 the center back ) wit} planned Bo and Embroi y—1i0 Every page contains complete, clearly illustrated directions for hings you can make at almost no cost. Enclose 25 cents and address Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines St., Chicago, IlL fts, Novelties you. der help BEAUTIFUL = Natural - Looking 1% TEETH) LOWEST PRICES Pr trons, MONEY - TRIAL PACK GUA ANTEE YOU'LL BE SATISFIED. Monthly payments possible, FREE mouth - forms aay directions and catalog, WRITE ME TODAY! C. T. Johnson, Pres. of UNITED STATES DENTAL COMPANY Dept. PW2 1558 Milwaukee Ave. Chicage, ill. Worthy Spark Our humanity were a poor thing were it not for the divinity which stirs within us.—Bacon. The Devil Leads i When rogues go in procession | the devil carries the cross. 3 another hundred.” Not So Lively Oldtimer—How do you like our little town? Visitor—It's the first cemetery that I ever saw with lights in it. For Guys With Pash \ “Boy,” exulted Joe Prepp, “y'oughta see my new machine! It's a honey-—perfectly safe, cheap to run, and you can take corners on two wheels without any danger a'talll” “Yeah? What kind is it?” “A bicycle!”
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers