The Dallas post. (Dallas, Pa.) 19??-200?, August 10, 1929, Image 3

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    DALLAS POST. DALLAS,
PA., AUGUST 10, 1929
~ [Beware+Bachelors,
: Avlinc ge Haas £
: SYNOPSIS erstwhile partner
Dr. Dayis ang hs wife, May, eyes met a sight the &
ave beeh quarreling, avis 4g | through his very Boul. Jaw
alous of Bos ér-dd Brie, a per-| dropped; his eyes stared. “O
me manufdotdrer, and May 4s | lilies-of-the-valley,” He breath
and with one startled cry he sli
off his chair and went under the
table.
“Well—what—"
the disappearing figure of her ege
cort, | as in bewilderment.
hey have just made up when
Davis receives a supposedly profes-
8tonal call. He finds Myra in a
Pestaurant, pretending illness. He
believes her story and takes her
‘home. On opening the door for
er he thoughtlessly pockets the
ey. May, becoming suspictous, fd
pws him and sees him with Myra.
Nhe gets Beranger and they go to
0 cabaret, from where she tele-
| Yhones Myra’s apartment and tells
her husband her whereabouts and
Says that she is with a man.
ed, trylng to peer beneath the
cloth. :
Beranger’s gestures frightened
her. He looked as though he had
gone insane. She half rose, as
though to signal for help. Then
she, too, stared, and sank back in-
to her seat. There in the doorway,
his eyes searching the room, stood
Ed.
For the moment May was star-
tled into quiet. She had thought—
even hoped, that Ed would follow
her here. That was the reason for
giving him the name of the cafe.
He would see that shes, too, was
AGAR
CHAPTER _XI—Continued
The music started again at a sig-
nal from the violinist.
“Do you think wea’d better dance
this?” Beranger questioned timor-
ously. “It sounds frightfully rough | having a good time, and just as
to me.” ; good a time as he could have. But
“Oh, yes, lets,” May decided. “I |2s he stood there, it was borne in
love od y ! upon her that perhaps she had
gone a little too far—perhaps she
had got her perfumed acquaintance
into a hole. :
But she had little time to think,
for Davis had already spotted her,
and with a grim, set face and de-
termined stride Le was crossing
the room.
“Where's the man with you?”
he demanded, without so much as
a nod or a “how-do-you-do.”
- May met his gaze, astonished.
He was in a mood that bodsd no
good to anyone. And now she was
thoroughly frightened at what she
had done.
“Thare’s—thers’s no man with
me, darling,” she faltered. “I came
here alone ready, 1.4id.”
“Where's the aan!” Davis gterle
ly waited, his arms folded.
“But Ed, dear, I tell you there's
no one wich rae.”
Beneath the table May coulda feel
Beranger trembling. Oh, she had
‘made a mess of it. ER
“You tell me where he is!”
Davis insisted. “I'm going to break
every bone in his body.”
“Now, Ed, dcar, please!” May
began. “Don’t tclk so loud. Everys -
boay’ll hear you.” ;
“I don’t care If the whole world
hears ms,” Davis. retoried. “YT
want to know where that man is,
and if you don’t tell me TU—1"11—"
He raised his head, sniffing. The
odour of a familiar perfume ase
sailed his nostrils. “It’s that—
that perfumer,” he sputtered.
“Wait until I catch him!” With
a quick gesture se sont the table
over sidewise. The crouching fig-
ure of Beranger was exposed to
view. May jumped up, shrieking.
The entire cafc seemed to come
to life. People got up, stood om
chairs to see over others’ shoul-
ders. Some made for the door, ter-
rified at the row. The manager
came hurrying over. But not bee
fore Davis had picked up the terri-
fied man and with a tremencoun
shove sent him sprawling across
the room and into the midst of the
orchestra. With a loud cry Ber-
anger leapt to his feet and ran.
May looked at her husband, an.
ger and embarrassment written. ail
over her face. She picked up her
hat and without a word, started
away from the scene of action.
“Oh, no you don’t,
Davis caught hold of her arm and
spun her about.
“Look here, what's all this fuss.”
The manager of the place took hold
of Davis.
“Nothing at all,” Davis returned
sharply. “My wife and I are just
having a friendly quarrel.” He
smiled a lingering smile and wink-
ed at the man. “Suppose you just
have the table set up again, and
we'll continue the party.” A five
dollar bill exchanged hands.
“Yes indeed, sir.” Briskly the
manager motioned to a walter and
gave orders. The orchestra broke
into a loud, jazzy tune. The people
at the other tables started to dance,
seeing that the fight was finished.
“Well, if you think you can hu-
miliate me this way,” May began,
trying to pull away from her hus-
band’s restraining hand.
“Now you sit down and we'll
argue this out,” Davis interrupted,
thrusting May into a chair and
seating himself beside her.
Beranger sighed, and started out
with May onto the floor.
Once more the crowd pushed and
jostled, swayed spun around. Then
a dim darkness, concealing faces
and forms. A rushing, pushing,
laughing throng. People snatching
at other people, unseeing. Good
natured raillery, silly jokes. The
lights came up.
May found herself in the arms |
of a husky iooking youth with a red
He went wnder the table.
and purple necktie who handled his
feet as though he had double-joint-
ed ankles. May tried to keep pace
with his short, jumpy steps. It was
like being in a race. the way they
ran around the outskirts of the
dancers, May told herself breath-
lessly. She looked about to see
what had happened to one, Claude
de Brie.
Beranger was dancing with a girl
who towered above him, and whose
| broad back completely shut him out
of sight. He looked uncomfortable,
but his looks could never do justice
to the way he felt.
Oh, baby!” the girl murmured.
“That’s certainly one grand per-
fume.”
“Uh—uh—thank you,” Beranger
returned, not quite certain whether
the remark was meant to be a com-
pliment or otherwise.
But the girl seemed to be cling-
{ing to him as. though she enjoyed
it. Beranger looked about for some
means of escape. He felt extreme-
ly silly, and he was sure that he
looked it. But he was caught in a
press of people, and as securely en-
closed as though iron bars fronted
and backed him. Then the musc
stopped, and with one burst of
strength, Beranger ducked and el-
bowed his way towards his table,
without one backward glance.
May’s partner brought her over
to the table, and left her, bowing
+his thanks for the dance. May sat “There’s nothing to argue about,”
down, panting from her exertions. May retorted.
“Well, that’s the nearest I ever “Oh, yes there is. You can
want to come to being in a race,” start.”
she laughed.
“I told you it would be rough,” 3
Beranger reminded her. CHAPTER XII ;
“Rough! I think it’s marvelous.” “Go ahead,” Davis reiterated.
“Im willing to listen to any expla-
nation you may have to offer.” He
settled himself, took a package of
cigarettes from his pocket, and
started to light one. :
“I'm not interested.” May turn-
ed her back, at least as much as
she could under the circumstances,
what with the crowded tables and
the narrow spaces between them.
She opened her vanitay case and
began repairing the damage done
by her unusual activities.
“But it’s not really a very nice
place,” Beranger objected. “Per-
sonally, I can’t say I like it. Really,
my dear, don’t you think we’d bet-
ter go?”
“Go—of course not.” May added
a touch of lipstick to her crimson
lips. “I’m having a perfect time. “All right.” Davis signaled a
It’s frightfully early—only twelve. | waiter. “Bottle of White Rock and
The night’s still young.” some cracked ice,” he ordered
“All right,” Beranger agreed mis- | curtly.
erably, He lookéd around, .as The waiter scurried off.
(To be continued)
though fearing he might see his
i INSTALLMENT NINETEEN
BOILS to anoiural head |
BEAR BRAND SALE
¢packagde includes spat- also 2D
S50 Drs bandage and tape Jor eas
GROBLEWSKI &.CO. Plymouth.Pa. founded 1892. w=
aws
P=)
re ——t
May gazed af
“What's the matter,” she demand- |
at
my lady.” °
Sunday.
—Alderson-
Old Man Weather kind of pulled one
over ‘on us the first part of the week.
| The change was so quick and lasted
[such a little while that we hardly had
time to dig our red flannels out of
the moth balls before it was warm
again. The cold weather sure put the
lid on activities here at the lake for a
day or so. Hardly any people came
out and those who were out shut
| themselves up in their cottages and
bunghlows and “stayed put” until the
weather grew warmer. Oh, but Har-
vey's I.ake is a wonxerful place on a
cold day!
‘Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood and daugh-
ter, Melba, and son, George, and Mr.
and Mrs. Bert Haskins of Sugar
Notch spent Friday evening with Mr.
and Mrs. J. E. Altemus.
Mrs: Muriel Jones and children of
New York City are visiting her par-
ents, Mr. and Mrs. Frank Higgins.
Mr. and Mrs. Otis Allen 'motored to
Harrisburg on a business trip Monday
of this week.
Miss Phyllis Enders is spending two
weeks with her aunt, Mrs. Albert Has-
kins, of Sugar Notch.
Mr. and Mrs. Joseph
spending the week with
sister, Mrs. Harriet Rauch.
The fish in Harvey's Lake are on a
hunger strike. They seem to be out
for the endurance record, for they
haven't been biting for some time and
from all repoxts they bite no better
daily. We've heard all sort of reasons
offered for the hunger strike. Perhaps
its for bigger and better bait or for
longer or shorter seasons, or then, too,
they may be objecting to the up-to-
date costumes of the flapper fisher-
women. Anyway, they're on strike and
there doesn’t seem to be many strike-
breakers in the whole darn lake. If
vou don’t believe this, come up and try
your luck. :
Jacob Condon, who underwent an
operation for appendicitis last week, is
doing very nicely and we hope to see
him home again in the very near fu-
ture.
Charles Hallock and daughter, Es-
telle, of Tunkhannock, spent Friday,
with Mrs. L. T. Avery.
Mrs. Rilla Kollmar and daughter of
New Jersey are spending a week with
Mr. and Mrs. Otis Allen.
Mr. and Mrs. Chilson Angst, Mr. and
Mrs. Harry Evans and children,
Stephen and Henry, of Lehighton; Dr.
and Mrs. G. F. MacKinder and chil-
dren, John and Edna, Mr. and Mrs. C.
MacKinder, Mrs. Ellen Thomas, Mrs.
Mildred Rehill and sons, Dick and
Billie, and Adolf Widman of Nanti-
coke, and Mr. and Mrs. Harry Millo
and son James of Wilkes-Barre were
entertained by Fred Odenkirchen and
his daughter, Emma, on Sunday, July
28th.
Mr. and Mrs. Henry Calkins, Jr,
and family of Shavertown and Mr. and
Mrs. Albert Calkins and daughter of
Luzerne visited Mr. and Mrs. Enoch
Smith on Sunday last.
Doris and Gladys Cole and Almeda
Calkins spent Tuesday with Ruth
| Honeywell. i
Mr. and Mrs. Corey Allen enter-
tained over Sunday Mr. and Mrs.
Joseph Scott, Mr. and Mrs. Will Fer-
guson, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Wolfe and
Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Wolfe.
Mr. and Mrs. E. Eggleston spent
Tuesday with their son, Clyde, at Ver-
non.
Carl Weidner of Luzerne and Miss
Mildred Higgins of Dallas spent Mon-
day evening with Miss Mary Kuchta.
Mr. and Mrs. Earl Richards of
Noxen and Mrs. Laura Stiles of
Wilkes-Barre were calling on friends
here on Sunday.
George Smith, Jr, spent the week-
end with his aunt at Wilkes-Barre.
Mr. and Mrs. Edward Fetterman and
family of Nuangola visited the latter's
Fraley. are
the latter's
grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. J. E.
Altemus on Sunday.
Herman Garinger has just pur-
chased a new Chevrolet truck.
Mr. and Mrs. Warren Crispell and
family and Corey Crispell, all of
Wilkes-Barre, spent Saturday with
Mrs. L. T. Avery.
William J. Kern and family of New-
ark, N. J. visited relatives here on
Thursday, August 1, seemed just a
bit like old times here at the lake. The
Coxton Welfare Association held its
annual picnic at the Lehigh Valley
Park and four excursion trains of nine
cars each ‘rolled in in the course of the
morning. The enormous crowd and
the excursions reminded one of the
summers when there used to be ex-
cursions every week-day and, we
might say, “twice on Sundays.”
Mrs. Sarah Jane Lamereaux spent
a few days this week visiting friends
at Shavertown, z
Fred Baker, who was operated on
for appendicitis about two weeks ago,
has returned home and is improving
rapidly.
The Ladies’ Aid Society was enter-
tained by Mrs. Corey Allen and Mrs.
Otis AAllen Thursday afternoon.
Rev. E. B. Singer and family are
occupying one of Grover Anderson's
cottages at Point Breeze. Rev. Singer,
as many will remember, was pastor of
the Alderson M. E. Church a number
of years ago.
Mr. and Mrs. H. B. Allen and family,
Mr. and Mrs. Corey Allen and Mr. and
Mrs. Otis Allen and family attended
the Allen reunion at Ch fj tnut Grove
on August 3. -
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Queer Golf Course
A nine-hole putting course in a New
York recreation ground, with bunkers |
and hazards consisting of broken |
drain pipes, old gas fittings, and so |
on, takes some beating for queerness. |
{he was proving his love,
| wisdom toward his daughter, by for-
ILLUSTRATED BY
—
FIRST INSTALLMENT
“Los Angeles!” the sneering preacher
cried, as Jonah might have whinnied,
“Nineveh!” and with eqoal scorn. “The
Spanish missionaries may have called
it the City of Angels; but the moving
pictures have changed its name to Los
Diablos! For it is the central fac-
tory of Satan and his minions, the
enemy of our homes, the corrupter of
our young men and women—the school
of crime. Unless it reforms—and soon
—surely, in God’s good time, tiie ocean
will rise and swallow it!”
Though he was two thousand 1ialles
or more away—the Reverend Doctor
Steddon was 130 convinced by nis own
prophetic ire that he would haidly
have been surprised to read the
mn
i
SE 0
Ls
Monday morning’s paper that a beuv-
evolent earthquake had taken his hint
and shrugged the new Babylon off into
the Pacific ocean.
But Doctor Steddon, if he could havs
seen the realm he objurgated, would
have ‘confessed that the devil had a
certain grace as a gardener and that
his minions were a handsome, happy
throng. As it was, Doctor Steddon
had never 13een Los Angeles and had
never seen a moving picture. He knew
that the world was going to wrack and
ruin—as usual—and he laid the blame
on the nearest novelty—as usual.
His daughter had heard him lay the
blame in previous years on other ac-
tivities. She wished he wouldn't.
But then she had not escaped blame
herself, and she was in a mortal dread
now of a cast cloud of obloquy lJower-
ing above her and ominous with light-
ning.
Her father and mother had named
her Remember—after one of the May-
flower girls—nearly three hundred
years after. Her father often wished
that she had heen liker to those Puri-
tan maidens. But that was hecause
he did not know how like she was to
them; how much they, too, had terri-
fied their parents with their love of
finery and romantic experiment.
© For it is only the styles, and not the
souls that change. There are chron-
icles enough to prove that the same
quota. of the Remembers and the
Praisegods of Plymouth and the other
colonies suffered the same bitter beau-
titudes and frantic bewilderments as
Remember Steddon and Elwood Farna-
by endured when their elbows touched
in the choir loft of this mid-western
village.
Miss
in Faranaby’'s elbow; then
from hers; she saw his
whiten as it gripped the
hard.
Someaocw in the words he chanted
seemed tc stab him with a sense of
guilt. He felt it a terrible thing for
her to stand before that congregation
and cry aloud words of ecstacy over
her redemption from sin.
Their secret, unknown and uncon-
fessed, was concealed by the very
clamor ‘of its publication. And it
troubled FFarnaby mightily to be
gaining all the advantage of a lie by
singing the truth.
it was gone
thunrb nail
hymn book
When the choir was not singing
openly and aboveboard it was usually
busily whispering. Even Elwood
Farnaby had to lean over tonight and
whisper important news to Remember.
He was not permittad to call at her
house or to beau her home after the
service. Singing beside her in the
house of God—that was different. He
told her now what he had just learned,
that the factory wnere he was cni-
ployed would close down the following
week because of hard times. Elwood
was to have been »nrcmoted to super-
intendent soon.
To Remember Stedden the news that
Elwood would have ro job in a week
and would know no place to look for
one had more than a commercial in-
terest. It was the alarum of fate.
She had loved Elwood since: they
were children—had loved him wall the
more for the squalor of his home. He
was the son of the town's most emi-
nent drunkard, old “Falldown
Farnaby.”
Among the slipshod children of his
family ‘Elwood alone had managed to
acquire ambition. He had
ysnel S1q duo si& ed oUL G8 ISWSNY supported his mother and a pack of |
brothers and sisters. He had even
been able to afford to go to the war
19% and win the guerdon of a wound that |
made him gorious in Remember Sted |
don’s eyes and a little more lovabie
than ever.
Her father, however, had been un- |
able to tolerate the thought of his
daughter's marrying the son of the
town sot. Doctor Steddon felt that
his loving
bidding her even to meet young Far-
naby outside the choir loft. He was
sure that her love would wear out.
He did not know his daughter. Who
ever did? ee
aS
FF ;
I 1 i 7
latterly |
DONALD § RILEY #/
Elwood had expected that the bad
news would shock her. But he could
not understand the look of ghastly ter-
ror she gave him. He forgot. it in his
own bitter brooding and did not ob-
serve the deathtly white that blanched
her paller.:
Yet he had noted that she was paler
of late and had added that worry to
She coughed incessantly, too, and
Mem caught eagerly at grief.
“Tell me! What's happened? What's
happened to Elwood? He's hurt. He's
killed.”
“Yes!
It
3
was Dr. Bretherick who after-
ward found a solution.
“Your cough will take a long time
to cure or kill,” he said.
“But it may
come in very handy. You can’t stay
in this town now, I suppose. Most of
the animals crawl away and hide at
such a time; so suppose you just van-
ish. Let your cough carry you off to
—say, Arizona or California.”
She was startled at this undreamed-
of escape. He went on:
“T’ll tell the necessary lies. That's
a large part of my practice. And prac-
tice makes perfect. You will go to
some strange town—and pose as a
widow.
“You will marry an imaginary man
out there and let him die quietly.
Then, if you ever want to come hone
here, you come back as Mrs. Some-
body-or-other.”
He chose Woodville as the name.
Mem was to write of Mr. Woodville’s
devotion, then to describe a hasty
marriage and request that her letters
thereafter be addressed to her as Mrs.
Woodville.
After a brief honeymoon she could
eliminate Woodville in some way to
be decided at leisure. It would be
risky, he said, to let Mr. Woodville live
too long.
A hurricane struck the little town of
Caverly on the day of Elwood’'s
funeral. When Mem expressed a wish
to sing with the choir at the service
over their late fellow=singer, her
‘nother cried, “A girl who's got to be
shipped out West has got no right to
go out in weather like this.”
So she stayed at home and stared
through the streaming! windows. She:
saw her poor old father set out to
preach the funeral sermon.
He had that valor of the pricsts |
Qieddon felt a sudden tremor | which leads them to risk death in or- | her haid, each tear a separate pearl
der to defeat death; to endure all |
hardship lest the poorest soul go out |
of the world without a formal conge. |
Doctor Steddon clutched his old over-
coat about him and plunged into rain
that hatched the air in long, slanting
lines.
Again and again Mem revolted at
the outrage of robbing her own par-
ents of their savings—their one shield
against old age. She went again and |
again to Dr. Bretherick and demanded |
that he release her from her promises |
not to tell the truth not to kill her-|
self.
But. he compelled her to do his will, |
and she was too glad for a will to re- |
place her own panic to resist him. For |
a necessary stimulant her prophesied
that somehow in that land of gold she
was seeking she would find such
wealth that she could repay her par-
ents their loan with usury, with
wealth, perhaps. Who knew ?
He spoke of many women who had
begun poor and finished rich.
“You might go into the movies, for
instance, and make more money than
Coal Oil Johnny,” he said.
Mem imbibed mysterious tonics at
the doctor's office, and always came
away buoyed up with the feeling that
her tragedy was unimportant, com-
monplace, and sure to have a happy
finish.
But the moment she reached home
she entered a demesne where every-
his backbreaking load of worries.
kept putting her hand to her chest as
if it hurt her there.
On the way home under the wasted
| magfic of the rising moon, Remember
did not walk as usual between
father and mother with a hand on
arm of each. Tonight she kept at
mother’s left elbow and clung 30
to the fat, warm arm that her mo
whispered:
“What's the matter, honey?”
‘Nothing, mamma,” she faltere
“I'm just a little tired, I guess.” Hk
Mem again was coughing viole
and the rest of the way home Doe
Steddon was not a preacher anxio
about his daughter’s soul, but a fat
afraid of her life. The cough to h
parents was an ominous problem.
her it might promise a solution.
Next morning at ner rather's con
mand Mem went to see Doct
Bretherick. She told him that hi
parents were afraid her could
more than a cold and she coughed fo
him. He asked her many questi
and she grew so confused and apt in
blushes that he asked her more. Su
denly he flung her a startled loo
gasped, and stared into her eyes :
if he would ransack her mind. In th
mere shifting of his eyelid muscles s
could read amazement, incredul
conviction, anger and finally pity:
“All he said was, “My child!”
There could no solemner conferenc
than theirs. Dr. Bretherick had at-
tended Mem’s mother when the girl
was born. He thought of her still a
‘nis child, and now she dazed him an
frightened him by her mystic know:
edge and her fierce demands that
should help her out of her plight
help her out of the world.
He refused to do either and d
manded that she meet her fate with
heroism. Shr anh
In the talk that followed, Dr.
Bretherick drew out the fact Elwood
Farnaby was “the man” and suggested
a plan for their marriage when the
telephone rang. :
The doctor's welcoming “Hello!”
broke through a many-wrinkled smil
It froze to a grimance.
watched he kept saying:
Yes . Yes!” and finally.
right—bringl him here.”
He sat down the telephone as
were a drained cup of hemlock.
“It wasn't Elwood?” Mem said.
“No . . . Yes. Well— Oh, God!
what a bitter world this is!” !
thing was solemn, where jokes were
never heard, except pathetic old
witticisms more important in intentio:
than in amusement. BE 1°
And at last, one day, quite une:
pectedly, when she was under no ap-
parent tension at all, the girl went
into Mrs. Steddon’s room and said, in
a quiet tone: Xelen
“Mamma, I want to tell you some-
thing. I'd rather break your -heart
than deceive you any longer.” 3
“Why, honey! Why, Mem, dear,
what on earth is it? You can’t break
She whispered it so softly that her
ey he
this tough old heatr of mine.
breath was hardly syllabled. x
“Mamma, I—I'm going to have—to
have a baby,” - 3
The shock of the news was its own
or
a
if it
we
‘What is
ether. Mrs. Steddon whispered back
cowering: :
“You? You! My baby! You? A
baby?” .
Mem nodded and nodded until her
knees were on the floor and her brow
in her mother's lap. Old hands came
groppingly about her cheeks. She
felt the drip, drip of teans falling into
from a ‘crown of pride. 3
Then her mother fumbled at the
dreadful question:
“But who—who—"
“Elwood!”
Mrs. Steddon’s decision «was easy
and she made no difficulty of the
gross deceits involved. Her husband
must be protected in his illusions and
protected from the necessity of wreak-
ing his high morat principles on his
own child. His child ‘must be pro-
tected from the merciless world and
the immediate wrath of the village.
&
CONTINUED NEXT WEEK
————————
All Bunk
No doubt there age lingo lexico-
graphers who know the exact shades
of difference between hooey, hokum,
blah, baloney, applesauce and banana
oll.
E digestive distur-
sz=ml | bances, removes the
(intestinal poisons, and sick head«
| ache quickly disappears. Your whole
| gystem enjoys a tonic effect, consti
{pation vanishes, and you feel a re-
;newed vigor. Avoid bromides and:
dope,they aredepressingand harmful
All Druggists 25¢ and 75¢ red pkgs.
'CARTER'S IE PILLS
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