Those Lucky Pullens

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 231, 30 September 1929, Page 16

Those Lucky Pullens

1 By MALCOLM DUART —

THE STORY SO FAR. A flood of costly gifts from an unknown source has come to Fred Pullen, his wife and pretty daughter, Julia, following their brief possession of a Chinese lacquered chest, which they have sold to two Chinamen. These gifts have been linked by Mrs. Hamilton, a neighbourhood gossip, with, a certain fat masher visiting in San Francisco, and the neighbours refuse to speak to Mrs. Pullen. A huge diamond comes to the Pullens. A reward of 080,000 dollars is offered in China for the return of seven such stones that were concealed in exactly such a chest as the Pullens owned. Mrs. Pullen, innocently romantic, wants Julia to marry a rich man now that prosperity has come to them. After Julia goes, Mrs. Pullen finds a note from the girl, and is touched by the tender words, " My Dearest Mama," with which it starts. CHAPTER LVII. "The sweet child , .' murmured Mrs. Pullen, as she lifted Julia's letter again. Blinking, she read the lines on the square of blue note paper: " I would not do anything to hurt you for the world, but, mama, I'm a grown woman. I've got to decide for myself who I'm going to marry. Please forgive me, dearest —but I'm going to do something desperate.—Lovingly, Julia." Mrs. Pullen tore down the stair in such haste that in the hall below she came into collision with the wall. Seizing the telephone receiver- she stammered the number of her husband's office, and waited, trembling with impatience. "Who is this? I want to know who it is," she exclaimed, as a man's voice lazily answered at the other end of the line. "Is this Sam Carlile ?—Then who is it?— Well, I don't know you. This is Mrs. Pullen talking.—Yes, Mr. Pullen's wife. Is he there?— Where is he?—ls Sam there?— Why isn't ho there? —I can't help talking so fast. Listen! When Mr. Pullen comes in you tell him to lock Julia in a room.—Yes, Julia. —Tell him I ?aid so. —She must be locked up.—Listen! Tell him not to let her out of his sight. Have him go catch her! Good-bye.',' She hung up the earpiece, and stood pulling nervously at her fingers. "Oh, my! What'll I do? Oh, my! " she moaned. She started toward the kitchen, but returned at once to the telephone, at which she stared as if it might bring comfort. Fifteen minutes went by; afterward she said that it was the longest fifteen minutes of her whole life. Her apron was twisted into a limp, unlovely string, and the rosy glow that ordinarily rested in her cheeks was gone. At last the telephone bell rang, and she snatched at the instrument. Pullen's voice came through the receiver. " Fred! Did you get my message ?— For goodness' sake! Is the man crazy? I told him you were to lock Julia up! — How can you ask questions at a time like this, Fred Pullen ? Here I am standing here distracted and you ask me what I'm talking about! I want you to lock Julia in a room,! —What? —She says she's "oing to do something desperate! —She Fs!—Oh, my GodJ." She dropped the receiver, and it swung idly on the end of its cord. Mrs. Pullen, her knees suddenly weak, staggered backward to the couch and sank upon it. "My little girl!" she moaned. "My baby!'" I It took Pullen an extended time to reach his home, to learn what his wife was talking about, and almost as long a period before she could speak connectedly. Mrs. Pullen wept noisily upon his shoulder, and he drew.the words from her one at a time, like corks from a bottle. "Let's see the letter," }e said, as he finally gained an idea of what had happened. He read the brief l.ote. "I see/' he said, pursing his lips. "I see! " " But, Fred —my poor little baby is gone! Aren't you going to do something about it?" The faculty of speech had returned to her, but she still was fobbing. " Why," he said, " it's this way, Elsie. Julia was going to go to the office with me to. see Sam, but when we turned into Twenty-third Street she asked me to stop —said she had something to do. She got out, and told me she wouldn't be at Murty's office this morning. I don't see what I can do! " "And you didn't stop her? You didn't make her go to your office? Fred, what kind of a father are you, anyhow?" She iv.as sitting on the couch and rocking sideways in acute distress. "But I didn't know she was up to anything," he protested. "Besides Julia's a level-headed girl. She'll be all right." "'All right! All right! " Her tone was bitter. "You- say she'll be all right, and here I don't know where she is! Did you ask her what, it ,was she wanted to do? " "Didn't ask her anything," he confessed. • Mrs. Pullen groaned. "A pretty father you are," she commented. "You let your daughter go off to do something desperate and don't even ask where she's going!" Pullen sighed. "Tell you what I'll do," he said. "Sam Carlile's interested in Julia. He ought to be back at the office by the time I get there. He was out skirmishing up some rents, the boys said, but he'll be through pretty soon. I'll ask him to mosey around and look for'her." ■ "" His wife agreed. "And you; stop at the police station,"' she directed, "and tell them to send her right home as soon as they find her, and then you go to the railroads and tell them not to sell her a ticket any place, and then you might go to Mr. Murty's office —Fred!" He looked at' her inquiringly. "Do you suppose she's eloped with Mr. Murty?" Her eyee widened at this and a look of hope came to her face. "Good grief no!" he snorted. "Just you fy. to settle,down, Elsie—the kid'll be all* right. Probably she'll turn up before evening. You've run her ragged about this business of marrying rich men;: and I suppose she has some idea of taking a room down town." His wife leaped to her feet, and glared. "How can you eay that? How can you? As if I wasn't in enough trouble now without your trying to blame it all on me!" Her wrath acted as a stimulant, and she followed him briskly as he proceeded to the porch and down the steps. As he reached the front walk, however, she suddenly dissolved once more in irrief. Running after him, she hung upon his neck, and begged him to restore Julia to her, "because," she sobbed, if anything happens to her I'll just die." An hour later Mrs. Pullen attempted to resume her housework, but was not successful. Broom in hand she would stop for many minutes, gloomily looking into space, or choking over some possession of her daughter's. Giving up ..r. last she drew a chair to the front porch, and s;it there gazing up and down I ho street, huddled in" an old eoat that slip had drawn about her shoulders. One of the neighbour women who had cut her acquaintance passed. The

woman hesitated, smiled, and finally cast a cordial nod toward Mrs. Pullen. Several minutes after the neighbour had gone, Mrs. Pullen realised that in her woe she had failed to return the greeting. Nevertheless the occurrence ivae a comfort to her, and she began to rock, while the drawn lines in her face relaxed. Toward noon a small boy came trudging up the street. He wore a uniform coat and a cap with a name upon it in gold letters, but his trousers were in disrepair and his shoes were ragged at the toes. Under his arm was a very large pasteboard box. He looked at the numbers of the houses as he came, and at Mrs. Pullen's home. After comparing the number with an address that was scrawled upon the box, he turned in. "Pullen's?" he asked briefly. Mrs. Pullen got up. "Are those for us 1" she asked. "If this is Pullen's, it is," said he. "Name's 'Mrs. Fred Pullen.'" "That's me," she said, extending her arms. She went Inside to make inspection, while the boy sauntered away. Inside the box was a great sheaf of rosee, with an envelope attached by a ribbon to the stems. The envelope, too, bore her name, and within was a card', with lettering on it carefully printed with a pen. She drew near to the door to read it. "Put one of these on with your best dress this afternoon because you're going to be famous and happy." That was all it eaid. There was no name attached. Mr. Pullen, profoundly excited, read I the card four times, and then hastened to put the roses in a pitcher of water, from which they drooped on their long stems in a colourful circle. "If Julia were only here," she said aloud, patting the curling petals of the flowers. "She'd love them so!" Carrying the card she went to the telephone. "I've just gat to talk to somebody," she said, addressing the instrument as if in apology. She called her husband's office. "Is Mr. Pullen there?" she asked, in answer to the brisk "hello" that came over the wire. A few more words came, and she dropped the card to the floor. "He did what?—He got a message and' ran out without his hat? —Where did he go? Please tell me where he went!— Can't you find out. for me ? This ie his wife. It's something about Julia —I know it is!" The accumulated troubles of the morning were to much for Mrs. Pullen. She set out -for her husband's office on foot, without her hat, holding the old coat tightly to her throat as its unfashic/nably loiifr skirts flapped behind her in the wind. (To be continued daily.)