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THE STORY
“emAviEn I.—Prudence Schuyler
~ gomes from New York to Prosperity
Farm, inherited from her uncle, to
' make a new life for herself and her
drother, David, whose health has been
broken by tragedy.
~ CHAPTER IL—The second day on
her farm Prue adventures into ‘the
~ barn loft after eggs. She slips on the
~ hay and falls to the ground—would
‘have been badly hurt had not strong
young ‘arms been there to catch her.
The ar are those of Rodney Gerard,
rich young man, who lives at High
Ledges on the neighboring farm. There
is at once a mutual attraction between
the two. Rod decides to stay at his
‘home throughout the fall and winter,
“looking after the timber.” But Pru-
~ dence decides to maintain a cool at-
titude toward him. She suspects men
nce ‘her sister's husband ran away
with her brother's wife.
+ CHAPTER IIl.—Len Calloway, a
rival of Rod Gerard, tries to buy the
timber off Prue’s land, but she dis-
likes his conceited attitude and con-
tracts with Rod to dispose ‘of the trees.
X On the evening Prue is expecting David
from New York she is visited by Mrs.
~ Walter Gerard and her thirteen-year-
old daughter, Jean. They are hateful,
curious persons and leave Prue rankled,
CHAPTER IVe—A few days later
~ Prudence comes in contact with them
again when she accompanies Rod to
‘his place. A clown comes, advertising
R circus in a nearby town. Prue prom-
lses to accompany Rod and Jean to the
circus.
CHAPTER V.—They go to the cir-
cus, and while they are watching the
i baTdae Chicot, an old clown, is ac-
~ cidentally killed. He was the grand-
father of Milly Gooch, one of the cir-
cus riders. Rod became friendly with
Milly when she and her parents spent
a year on Prosperity Farm. Now her
parents are dead. Calloway intimidates
the available laborers in the district
so that they cannot be hired to cut
“the timber for Rodney Gerard.
CHAPTER VI
His challenge to Calloway had been
good theater, but could he back it up,
~ Gerard asked himself, as a few mo-
‘ments later his car shot into the high-
~ way between the two great iron gates
get in stone posts at High Ledges. He
~ wanted to reach the show grounds be-
~ fore Milly went on for her act. Per-
: haps he couldn’t help her, but if he |
didn’t, she might turn to someone not
so disinterested as he. ;
His thoughts turned back to the first
time he had seen Milly Gooch. Her fa-
~ ther and mother had hired the old,
. out-of-repair red brick house for al-
most nothing and had lived there one
summer while out of a circus job. He,
at ‘High Ledges from prep school for
vacation, had spent every available
hour with the family listening to their
stories of the Big Top.
brick house for the circus, Milly had
‘come each year to visit the Puffers to
get “fed up” and some red blood into
‘her, Mother Puffer had told him. He
had seen her rarely, but as she had
” grown into a stunning looking girl, ‘her
= long, narrow eyes and her expert use
of them had caught Len Calloway.
‘Had it been just an exciting game with
her? She had become engaged to him.
© Next he heard of her he had received
a wire:
3
“ROD. MUST SEE YOU STOP
SHOW IN YONKERS SATURDAY
stop DON'T FAIL ME =
& _ “MILLY GOOCH”
2 He could recall even his amazement
at the summons. Why had she sent
for him? In that far away summer
~ Walter had been more of a friend than
he; he had been fascinated by her
mother. Of course he would go.
He remembered the defiance in her
big dark eyes, the whiteness of her
face under its make-up, as she had
whispered :
~ “I—Ive walked out on Len, Rod.”
He recalled that he had laughed at
“her—it was unbelievable that Calloway
2 would release anything he once had
‘held. She had retorted:
~~ “Yeah, it isn’t a joke. I—=well, your
‘brother Walter's been my boy friend.
1 just burn him up. I'm sick of riding,
riding whether I'm feeling bum or not,
and having Grandpop out of a job half
the time. I'm going to be a lady and
be taken care of and take care of him.”
“Walter!” Gerard felt again the
: shock that had brought him up stand-
ing. “Walter! Walter has a wife.”
He remembered her laugh. “Say,
Big Boy, ‘where have you come from?
Been asleep since the Puritans landed?”
. He had caught her hands tight in
his. “Look here, Milly, you can’t do
that. Walter isn’t. worth, it. © Milly!
“Milly! Promise that you—you won't
~ —until I see you again.”
Quite plainly now he could see her
~ shining eyes as they had met his.
“Listen, if you care what I do, I
~ promise, Roddy.”
He sent the car ahead in a burst of
speed. A string of wagons was leav-
© ing the show grounds as he entered.
~ That meant that the audience was in
the big tent. Gerard stopped before the
: ~ tent on the wall of which “MADEMOI-
A SELLE MILLEE” was stamped in black
letters. As if she had been waiting
for him, sy Gooch-Stepped from be-
~ After the Gooch family left the red
hind the curtain drawn across the
front of it.
“Her dark hair was curled close to her
head; the mascara on her lashes in-
creased the brilliance of her marrow,
sloe-black - eyes; the crimson of her
lips accentuated the ivory pallor of
her skin. Her
tered with tears,
“You sure are a-dependable guy, Rod-
dy.” She perched on the top of a
pedestal. “Take “that chair. Say,
wasn’t” that a terrible deal Grandpop
- got this morning. And wasn't it like
Len Callow ay to put on his act at just
that minute!
“When did you talk with him last,
Milly 2”? :
“The day I gave him back his ring.
Look out for him, he has it in for you,
Roddy. Doesn't he know- that it was
Walter, -not you, Whe made me break
with him?”
your grandfather. Won't you need
money?’
“Not from you.
takes care of that.
Grandpop saved?”
“Walter's little girl, Jean.”
“Well, of all the breaks—Grandpop
passing out for the kid of the man he
hated.” She laughed, laughed until
the sound cracked in an hysterical sob.
“Milly! Milly! Stop! You won't
be able to ride if you don’t. Here, look
. up.” He pulled a handkerchief from
his pocket. *Let me wipe your eyes.
Now smile as if I were a Johnnie in
the front row.” ¢
She looked up with an attempt which
twisted his heart. Q
“That-a-girl! All set now?”
She choked back a sob. Caught the
handkerchief. i
“All set, Roddy. May I have this?”
“Sure, but what the dickens will you
do with it? Haven't any pockets con-
The management
Who was the kid
“l¢’s So Fine, I'll Tuck It in Here”
cealed in that ritzy costume, have
you?’
“It’s so fine, ri tuck it in here.”
She thrust it under her low-cut bodice.”
“What will you do this winter,
Milly 2” ;
“Hollywood. Two big shots from a
traveling talkie studio saw me ride a
month ago. And what do you think?
Mother Puffer and old ‘whatta mean is’
Si came to see me this afternoon! She
wants I should spend Christmas with
them. What say, Roddy?”
“If you visit the Puffers you may
run into Len Calloway.”
“What if I do? I'll give him a little
whirl for old times’ sake. You don’t
think I'm afraid of that big noise, do
you? TI've traveled some since I sent
‘you that S O 8.”
“And traveled straight, Milly?’
She met his eyes squarely. “Sure
thing. Didn’t I promise? I'm off men,
they're just a game, anyway.”
“Time for your act, Milly.”
As the maid spoke behind them, a
groom in rose-color velvet with silver
trimming led a milk-white horse
bridled with rhinestones to the tent.
Milly caught Rodney’s hands and
looked up at him. “I'll be good. I
promised you, didn’t I? There’s only
one person who could tempt me not to
be, and he—he doesn't know I'm on
earth, He—”
A hiss. A flash cut off the word.
“What was that?”
“Don’t be so jumpy, Roddy. If you
traveled with this show you'd get used
to that sound. Flashlight, Publicity,
of course. Some reporter writing up
the show wants a picture.” A whistle
blew. “That's for me. I'd better get
going, Bye-bye, Roddy. Don’'t—don’t
send me any more money—ever—I
won't need it—now that I’ve gone Hol-
lywood. Perhaps you'll be at High
Ledges at Chzistmas-—if Miss Schuyler
stays.”
What had she Heant by that, Gerard
wondered, as his eves follow ed her in
~~ nny ——
ii i ge . i: ik : J
Never had he seen her look foveliar.
‘cited about it.
great dark eyes glit-
That bozo’s grown old.”
" “I came to see if I could help abont
satin across the yard. Was his fesling
for Prue so evident?
One foot on the step of his car,
Gerard stopped and stared. Had a red |
roadster shot out of the parking place
just ahead, or was Len Calloway so
much on his mind that he had im-
agined it?
; * ® * * *
teste pulled at the wire netting
“at one side of the poultry yard.
“Darn!” she gritted. between. her
teeth, as ‘the elusive thing wriggled
away from her. “Mr. Si, I'm not so
good as I thought. Give me a hand,
will you?”
Puffer seized the netting, and pulled.
“Grand!
and scratched in my garden -border.
There! rd like to see them get
through that!”
“The pesky hens ain't the only
things that escaped yesterday. ‘Hear
bout the convict who dug “himself out
of prison?”
“Jane Mack heard the announcement
on the radio and told me. She's all’ ex-
He isn’t likely to come
to this small town, is he?”
2 “Gorry -me, he'd be running his head
into a noose if he did.” Puffer shook
the wire netting. ‘That’s a good: job
you've done. And you've done another
good job, Your brother is so much
better.” 2
Prudence sprang to her feet, "Her
eyes shone, her face was radiant.
“Then you've noticed it, too, Mr. Si?
It isn’t just my imagination?”
“Sure, I've noticed it. So’s Mother.
Whatta mean -is, his color is better,
his voice is stronger, an’ he moves
quicker. Comin’ to live in the country
is jest settin’ David on his feet. Rod's
noticed it, too.”
“Oh, ‘he has! I haven't “seen Jr,
Gerard lately so I didn’t know. Pru-
dence avoided Puffer’s eyes as she re-
membered the many times of late that
she had fled to the barn loft so that
she would not see Rodney Gerard
when he called.
“Gorry-me, you haven't seen him?
Seen Jim Armstrong?’
“No. Dave has, but—but I was out
when he called.”
“Well, of course, Rod was away to
the city most three.weeks trying to get
some firms to sign up for the timber
you and him are goin’ to cut. Since
he come back he's been terrible busy
cruising the woods. Rod isn’t used to
havin’ difficulty gettin’ what he wants;
things have always come easy for him,
This lumber business ‘pears to be get-
tin’ on his nerves. Jim was tellin’ me
‘this morning that Rod snapped at
every one who come near him yester-
day. Perhaps it’s that newspaper pic-
ture of him and Milly Gooch holdin’
hands in front of her tent at the
circus that come out in the local paper
the day after the show was here that
got him mad. Well, if here he isn't
now! What you gum-shoeing round
like that for, Roddy?”
Prudence was furious at her own
start of surprise. Had Rodney Gerard
seen it? He did look troubled. There
were lines between his nose and mouth
she never had seen before; he had lost
some of his bronze. His eyes seemed
deeper and darker and bluer in con-
trast.
“Well, will I pass? Perhaps you
weren’t sizing me up, perhaps you
were just wondering how it happened
that I had caught you, Prue of Pros-
perity farm.”
“Don’t bite, Rod.” Si Puffer flung
himself into the breach. “Now that
you've got company, Miss Prue, I'll go
an’ chop some wood.”
He moved away with surprising
quickness,
“Mr. Si!” Prudence started after
him, but Gerard caught her arm and
held it.
“You're not going until you tell me
why you have been dodging me.”
“L dodcing! How absurd!” ¢
“Is it? Drop that hammer. , It
makes you look bloodthirsty.” As she
still clutched the tool, he loosened her
‘fingers until it dropped to the ground.
“Thatls better, I want to talk to you
before Armstrong and Jean get here,
Have you seen that infernal picture?”
“Picture?” © Prue echoed the word
with breezy indifference.
“Don’t bluff. You know perfectly
well that I'm referring to that fool
snapshot of Milly Gooch and me at the
circus.”
“Oh,
efted. »
“Look here, you've got to be inter
that! Really, I'm not inter-
ested. I'm willing to bet my roadster
that Calloway had a hand in that. It
would be like his methods—"
“Don’t. abuse Len Calloway. It
would be disloyal for me to listen be
cause”—Prudence hoped (that her eyes
and voice were as maddeningly pro-
vocative as she intended them to be—
“because, you see, I've decided to have
him cut my timber.”
“What I”
Never had she seen eyes blaze as
Rodney Gerard’s blazed in his white
face. She remembered what Si had
said about his mood the last week.
She shouldn't have tried to torment
him—but—hadn’t that hateful picture
hurt her, too? He caught her by the
shoulders.
“You didn’t mean that, Prue, about
letting Calloway cut for you.”
“Of course I meant it. The more 1
think of it the more I go bullish on the
idea. I'm beginning to like Len very
much. He’s so forceful, so—"
“Forceful!” For a pulsing instant
Rodney Gerard hesitated, then he
caught her in his arms. “Forceful!”
He crushed his mouth, hard, ardent,
upon hers. “If that’s what you like
—Gorgeous—”" He kissed her again.
Prudence wrenched herself free.
Every pulse in her body was throhbing
unbearably. How had he dared!” Was
ne
her rose-color “tulle and glistening
5 Hold it a minute till I get |
this brad in; two more and it’s done.
These pesky hens got out yesterday
| appeal
2 PEE ow
arnt THE DALLAS POST. DALLAS, Zz FRIDAY, June 7, 1935.
eo
that = or he kissed ‘the circus
rider? She dragged her voice back.
“Don’t ever speak to me again!
Ever! Do you think I'll let you cut
my timber now? Suppose Len Callo-
way does cheat me in money, at least |
I shall be safe with him.”
“Prue! You can't do it! You knew
what you were doing when you looked
at me like that. You're no child. Be a
sport. You deliberately smashed my
control, and now you make me pay
for letting myself go. Well, I'll take
my medicine, | will keep away until
you want me, I'll never kiss you again
until you ask me to, if—"
“I ask you? That's the funniest thing
I ever heard.”
“All right, it’s
you ever heard.
stands. I—"
“Hi! Rod!”
The hail came from the garden.
Prudence dashed toward the gate and
collided with. a big, spectacled man
with heart warming eyes. He smiled.
“Miss Schuyler, isn’t it? I would
recognize® you anywhere from Jean's
description. I'm Jim Armstrong, and
“the funniest thing
1 am happy to report that you have a |
nice little hunch of money in your
© wood lot.” 3 -
.Prudence extended An eager, hand.
“Have I really! I'm so glad you've
come. Now’ I can learn a lot about
trees. Vill you. take me on as -a
pupil?” ¥
From the corner of her eye Prue
noted with satisfaction the set of Rod-
ney Gerard's: jaw. She would show
him that he couldn’t kiss her after he
had been holding Milly Gooch’s hands.
Jim Armstrong laughed.. “Sure I'l
-take you along if Rod says the word.
He's my boss. I'm a whale of a teach-
er. Rod said you had a plan of your
“wood lot, The Hundreds, Miss Schuy-
ler. May I see it?”
“Of course.” It’s in my shqp.
bring it to the living room.” °
Prudence was conscious of Gerard
watching her as a few moments later
she cleared a place on h®r brother's
desk and spread out the blueprint.
Jean danced in from the kitchen, her
hands full of cookies.
She crossed the room to speak to
David Schuyler seated in the wing
chair. As Armstrong joined them,
Rodney Gerard detained Prudence at
the desk.
“Wait a minute! Look here, Prue,
you didn’t mean what you said about
letting Calloway cut that timber. You
mustn’t do it.”
The sternness of his voice sent tin-
rn
gles through her veins, but she kept |
her lids. provokingly lowered.
“l can transact my own business,
thank you. When I need help I shall
to Mr. Armstrong. He im-
presses me as being such a reliable,
self-controlled person.” A
“And I'm not. I get you. All right,
let me cut your timber and you will
have no fault to find with me again—
ever—I’ll be the original ice man.”
He turned on his heel.
As the outer door closed on Arm-
strong and Gerard, Prudence crossed
to the fireplace and head on her hands
resting on the mantel looked unseeing-
ly down at the red coals.
“Is Armstrong an old friend, Prue?”
her brother asked.
His tone brought the color to her
face. “No. I've never seen him before,
today, Why?”
“You seemed to twinkle, twinkle
with excitement when you spoke to
him.”
She dropped to the floor cushion be-
side " his chair. “Humorous, aren't
you? Perhaps 1 did rather overdo the
welcome-to-our-city act, Dave, but—"
“But it was done for Gerard’s ben-
efit, wasn’t it? Like him a lot, don’t
you?”
“Like him! No. He leaves me cold.”
“What have you against him?”
“You said yourself that you were
confoundedly sorry that he—he knew
that circus clown, Dave.”
“If 1 had any suspicion of him then
I haven't now. [I think him one of the
finest, cleanest, straightest, most lika
ble men I ever met, and you will admit
that I have had some experience.”
“That’s what we thought about
Julie’s husband before they were mar
ried.”
“] never thought that. He was ir
xesistible and charming but—he had a
bad eye. I tried to make Julie under
stand. but she wouldn’t listen. I never
have bared my heart to you before
Prue; never will again.” IT am doing
it now to beg you to listen to your
instinct when it sounds its warning
tocsin.”
“I shall never love any man but you,
Dave darling. 1 shall remain Prue of
Prosperity farm and make your life a
burden by camping on your trail.”
“Go slow. No armor ever has been
forged which is invulnerable to love.
If you haven't really loved, you haven't
really lived. As for having you
camped on my trail, I wouldn't have
pulled through if it hadn’t been for
you—and I have pulled through. 1
feel like a new man. I have a brand
new outlook. 1 know now that I got
the signals mixed, I surrendered to
heartbreak and weakness when 1
should have accepted them as a chal
lenge.”
“Dave! Dave! How marvelous!
There’s the knocker. Who has come,
I wonder. You've had visitors enough
this morning, so I'll close the living
room door. A peddler probably.”
Prudence opened the front door.
Len Calloway confronted her.
Without speaking he passed her and
entered the shop. His assurance
crigsped her voice.
“What do you want?”
“Same old request. I want the con:
tract to cut your timber.”
“Same old answer.” Prudence mim-
icked his diction to an inflection. *I1
have made arrangements with Gerard
to cut it.”
But the ? promise
“Gerard again. Do you still think
he is serious about this woodsman
stuff? He—well, you saw that circus
rider who calls herself Mademoiselle
Millee, the day the old clown passed
out. Her right name is Milly Gooch.
She .was engaged to me. Threw me
over for Gerard and he—"
“That's a lie like some of the other
statements you have made, Calloway.”
Her tone lashed his color to dark red,
hardened his eyes.”
“Oh, it 18! See this?” :
He held out an envelope. Involun-
tarily she read the address. Mr. Rod-
ney. Gerard.
“Get that? Now listen.” He pulled
out a card. “And get this:
“ ‘Dear Roddy—
‘Thanks for the check. Don’t mail
it again. Bring it as usual. I've kept
my promise. Nobody knows. ;
Milly.’ ”
“1 found that on the floor near Ger-
ard’s desk. Now will you let me han-
dle your timber?”
Furious with: herself that she had
stood like a lump of putty and lis
tened to the note, an unbearable reali-
zation that it confirmed her suspicions
of Rodney. Gerard's philandering
roughened the voice which Pru
dence scoffed: d
HY, ou must be the original if-at-first-
you-don't-succeed- try-try-again lad, But
this time you have thrown sand in the
machinery, It won't work. Rodney
Gerard and 1 will get that timber
out.”
,Calloway’s eyes burned red. }
“You and, Rodney Gerard! That's a
Joke. Try to get men te cut. Just
try, that’s all 1 suppose you are
trusting to your partner for that?”
Prudence swallowed a nervous
chuckle. “You have guessed it. I am
trusting to my partner to engage the
men to cut. Good morning.”
He looked like a man who was still
dazed from a body blow as he de
parted. Once his lips moved, but Prue
banged the door behind him before he
could speak.
She leaned against it.
way found that note of Milly Gooch'’s in
Rodney Gerard's room? “Don’t mail
it again.” Apparently there had been
other checks. Why hadn't she asked the
man why he had been snooping at
High Ledges? Not that she cared who
wrote to Rodney Gerard or what he
did with his money. Mrs. Walt had
been right. Her butterfly brother did
flit from flower to flower. He had
thought that she—Prudence Schuyler
—would allow—
A sob of fury shook her. She
brushed her hand savagely across her
lips.
‘in
CHAPTER VII
With sighs of relaxation Gerard and
Armstrong, in the tweeds in which
they had come from a long day in the
woods, settled Into deep chairs before
the fire in the library at High Ledges
and lighted their pipes.
“I'll say I started something when
I set out to thin my woods!” Gerard
said. “I thought that all that was
necessary was to chop down a few
trees and there we were. Now It
seems that I have embarked on a life
work. Puffer was to report on the
labor question this afternoon. There
he is now! That's SI's voice when he
is excited. It doesn’t sound good to
me. Come in, SL.”
Puffer stood in the doorway.
chuckled.
“Howdy, Jim!
how you two are, Rod.
out, ain't ye?”
Gerard pulled himself stiffly to his
He
Don’t have to ask
Kinder beat
feet and drew an Inviting chair
nearer the fire. “All right, old-timer.
shoot.”
“No use beatin’ 'bout the bush. Ive
been to every village within a hun
dred miles an’ 1 can't get a man to
work for ye, Rod. They're afraid of
Calloway. I guess we're up against
it, all right.”
“We can’t be up against it, Si. That
timber must be cut. I'll find seme
huskies somewhere who haven't sald
out body and soul to Len Callowwny
Do we need gkilled lumbermen, Jim?
“No. Skilled labor would save time
and money, but with you and Puffer
and me to boss a crew we could get
the wood out.”
Patch, the butler, appeared at the
‘door.
“Miss and Mr. Schuyler.”
Gerard doubted his ears. Prue
here! He heard Jean’s ecstatic, “Ob
goody !” as he crossed the room to wel
come the girl and her brother. His
lips tightened at the hostility in her
eyes as they met his. It was abundant-
ly evident that he was still in dis-
grace for his passionate outburst of
yesterday. With difficulty he kept his
voice steady.
“This is a clear case of thought
transference. How did you know that
we need your advice and your broth
8 at this very moment, Prue? Come
over by the fire, Dave.”
Schuyler laughed. “How you all
conspire to spoil me! We are not so
neighborly as we seem. We were
driven here for shelter.”
Prudence smiled radiantly at Arm-
strong, and explained:
“Dave and I have been to the vil
lage to barter eggs-and poultry for
groceries. Just as we reached this
drive, Success belied her name and
passed out. I didn’t dare let Dave sit
in the cold car—it is beginning to
snow—while I probed for internal dis-
turbances; he flatly refused to leave
me in the dark road—he had the es
caped convict on his mind—so here
we are. Now that he Is warm and
comfy, perhaps you will come out with
me, Jim, and help diagnose the engine
trouble.”
Gerard spoke to the man who had
been laying wood on the fire.
ueen
Had Callo-
“you've solved the problem!
ip FE % t
“Patch, teil Judkins to “took over:
Miss Schuyler’s car. When he has it
in shape, let me know.”
He turned to Prudence.
rival is uncannily opportune, partner.
Jim, Si, and I have struck a snag.”
“All is not serene on the logging
front?” Prudence asked anxiously.
“Calloway again? I hope you haven't
permanently incurred that man’s en-
mity because you are helping us.”
“That's only a little gas spilled on
the fire, Dave. Len is drunk with the
idea of his importance in this coms-
munity.”
Hands clasped on her knees, Pru-
dence leaned forward. “It makes ma
see fiery pinwheels in frenzied revolu-
tion when I think of Calloway’s power.
He will find that I won't stand being :
dictated to.”
Gerard's relief left him limp for an
instant, Yesterday she had been
strong for Len. Had she been put-
ting up a bluff to defy the man who :
had kissed her, or had Calloway
chopped off his own head by a stupid
move? Whatever the explanation, the
fact remained that she was still rely-
ing upon the original plan for getting
out her timber.
SJim, suppose no one here w a work
for us? What shall we do?”
Gerard’s recent satisfaction burried
up in anger. She was deliberately ig-
noring him. He cut in:
“We'll have to hire men from outside
the ‘state... I'm going to New York to-
morrow to try my luck there.”
“New York!” David Schuyler re-
peated thoughtfully. “What sort of
men do you need for the work in the
woods, Rodney?” g
“Husky lads. Jim will do the head
work and Si and 1 will drive the
crew,” Gerard answered. 3
“We need men who can swing an ax
and cut as we direct,” Armstrong elab-
orated. ’
“You said you were going to New
York to look for them.
thinking—"
“If you have a suggestion, for Pete's
sake, don’t hold out on us, Dave!”
“It may not be worth the breath to
state it, Rodney. I was wondering if
some of the men at the Rescue mis-
sion might not fit in. They're a rough
lot, but there are about twenty of
them who are devoted to me. If they
came, I could keep them straight while
they worked, I think, but where would
they live? The villagers wouldn't take
them in; 1 wouldn't ask it.”
Gerard did a sum in lightning calcu.
lation. “They could live in the big
cattle barn down by the pond. T'lk
have bunks built, wood stoves would
heat it, and get a cook from New York
to feed them. Whoops! I believe
I'll pay
any wages you say—providing, of
course, my partner approves the plan.”
Prudence shook her head. “The plan
is all right, but you must make allow-
ance for the fact that Dave believes
that his boys like ‘all God’s chillen got
wings’ when they are exposed to the
right spiritual conditions.”
Her brother's fine eyes were alight
with enthusiasm.
“You're wrong, Prue, they have more
sporting spirit than you think. Most
of them never have had a chance. Sup-
pose we set three or four permanently
on their feet and incidentally get the:
timber out. Wouldn't that be worth
while? What say, Gerard?’
“I think it's keen.
to the head of the Rescue mission and’
I will go to New York tomorrow.”
“I'll go with you.” |
“David!” D
“Don’t spike our ‘plan, Prue, with:
fear for me. I must be sure that the
boys understand the proposition. Don’t
make an invalid of me. I'm through
with that. I'm going.” isi
“Of course, if that’s the way you
feel about it, Dave, who
in your way?”
*(3lad you realize your unimportance,
Prue.” Her brother smiled at her.
“Shall we go tomorrow, Rodney?”
His voice had the eagerness of a boy's:
about to fare forth on an adventure.
am I to stand:
“Yes. Perhaps you'll come and see
us off?’ Gerard’s eyes were on Pru.
dence. Jean caught- his arm.
“You couldn't take me. could you,
Uncle Rod? This house will seem
awful big without you.” She swal-
lowed hard.
“Let Jean come and stay with me.”
“Oh. Uncle Rod. may I stay with
Miss Prue while you're away? I'll be-
a8 good as gold.”
“Do you really want her?” For the
first time since she had entered the:
room Gerard felt that Prudence looked:
at him. “Just a moment, K. K. Dos
you really want her, Prue?”
“Of course I want her.”
“Okay then. Come over and see off?
your brother, Prue, then Jim will driver
you and Jean back to the red bricks
house.”
“The car is in running order, sir,“am-
nounced Patch,
“Then we must go at once, Dave.
Jane Mack will think we have been
held up by that prisoner who escaped-
day before yesterday. I wish you suc:
cess, Mr. Gerard, but just wait till you.
see Terry McGowan and Shance O’Shea.
I tremble to think what the villagers.
will say when they see that colorful:
and hear that profane aggregation:
which you are planning to hurl into
their unsuspecting midst.”
“I guess if you an’ Rod can stand:
them, Dave, the rest of us can,” en-
couraged Si Puffer. “Most of us are-
all-fired sick of CQalloway and his
tootin’., His father was a big man:
in the community, but the son-—well,
whatta mean is, I don’t wonder that:
Milly Gooch—" His eyes met Ger-
ard’s. “Gorry-me, 1 guess I better get:
a move on and measure that. cattle-
barn right off so’s we-ean get: those~
bunks in.”
(Continued Next Week.)
re Ql Grr.
READ THE DALLAS POST
FOR GROCERY BARGAINS:
“Your ar :
I have been
Give me a letter
Bll
hol
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