“SWEET FOR A SEASON”

Manawatu Times, Volume 64, Issue 305, 27 December 1939, Page 2

“SWEET FOR A SEASON”

(By JOSEPH McCORD)

I Instalment 12. | Synopsis of Preceding Instalments

lino of cages to Mr. Jenkins office. Its door was open. Ho looked up from his desk and saw her, nodded and waved a friendly hand. Glada’s answering smile was curiously stiff; her feet felt as thougfl. they were frozen to tile floor. Almost in a daze, she fled to tho street door and across to her roadster. Her hands were trembling so violently that sho had difficulty in starting the car and steering it safely through the traffic.

Glada Leo worries her mother because she dropped her university course after two years, went to tho State Agricultural College and now is more interested in her successful chicken farm than her matrimonial prospects. Her father, Ed Lee, a lawyer, is Dale City’s leading citizen. Her older brothers, Bailey and Trevor, are married; Masters, the youngest, is engaged to Evelyn Barclay, and motherly Mary Leo feels that Glada is wasting her time. Mrs. Lee invites their good-looking young pastor, the Rev*. Lynn Stirling, to dinner.. When she suggests later that Stirling would mako a good husband Glada says she isn’t thinking of marriage. The next day the minister appears at the girl's chicken farm and tells her he loves her. Astounded, she is abrupt in her manner, but softens it because of his obvious sincerity. As he goes, he says, “Some day—l intend to marry 1 you." When he next visits tho Lees he asks Glada to be his friend. Cobb Peters, her farm manager, breaks his leg and she gives Gern Jones, a down-and-outer, a job. He gives evidence of culturo but has a puzzling manner. Tes Sidbury, heavy with make-up, goes to the farm and tells Glada that. Masters has jilted her for “tho Barclay blonde." She can't face this, she says, must go away and will need 1,000 dollars. When Glada says she hasn't got the money and won’t ask her father for it, Tess says she will go to the Barclays, spoil tho wedding and cost Masters his job. Masters tells Glada he met the girl at a party, that there was considerable drinking and he is hazy about what happened. True or not, if tho girl makes her claim public, the result will be the same, Glada and Masters agree.

“Hunk," she murmured to the bulldog on tho scat beside her, “I don't know what to dol What are we going to do?"

Hunk's muzzle quivered sympathetically, but he said nothing. Out in the open country, she drove her car at unusual speed. The wind beat softly in her face and sho freed and hand from the wheel long enough to remove her hat and allow her hair to whip back from her hot forehead. It felt good, clean. If only she could keep on and on and on, leave trouble behind. Leave everybody behind. . . Sho realised sho had not succeeded when she turned in at the farm gate and heard tho strident note of an auto horn directly behind her. A quick glance into the rear-vision mirror showed that a car was trailing her up tho lane. At least it wasn't a state police car, or it didn't look like one. When she got out of her own machine, a heavy coupe halted directly behind her. The Rev. Mr. Stirling was smiling to her from behind its wheel. He alighted at once and camo to where she stood waiting, somewhat annoyed that sho must resume her mask so quickly. “You led me into a merry chase," he laughed. “Here I was, all set to pass you and show off my new car, and it was almost as much as I could do to keep you in sight." “I'm sorry," Glada admitted as brightly as she might. “That is a very nice looking bus you have." She strolled over to look at it, glad of a momentary diversion.

Tho week that followed her talk with Masters seemed always to Glada like a slowly moving nightmare. Life and work had to go on as usual, but everything was clouded by an impending disaster that settled lower and lower with each passing hour. And worst of all was the unceasing watch she had to keep over every word and action that might betray her. Cobb Peters came home and took up his fretful quarters in the kitchen, dividing his time between a couch and an easy chair, irritated by the weight of a plaster cast on his injured leg. Even his unstinted tobacco chewing failed to cheer him. One of his chief worries was his young employer. Cobb was satisfied that the work and worry caused by his absence had been too much for her. Miss Glada didn’t look good to him. And efforts to cheer him only added to Glada's already crushing burden. She was curious to see how Cobb would react to Gern's presence and was distinctly relieved when the verdict appeared favourable. “There’s a fellow that's got a good head on him," he confided to Irma after a modest admission by Gern that he had succeeded in effecting a repair of the tank pump that for a long time had exhibited a chronic valve ailment. “l r ou know, I wouldn't mind if Miss Glada could see her way clear to keep him on. He’s forgotten more about things than Jim'll ever know." “Sho likes him well enough," his wife observed cryptically. “His stay here has done him good, too." The working hours at the farm were easiest for Glada, for there was so much that demanded her attention. Nevertheless, when slio was alone at her desk in the office, she found herself wracking her tired brain continually for somo solution to Master’s difficulty. Sho never could free herself from it, no matter what occupied her mind at the moment. Evenings at home were even worse. Mrs. Lee was certain that her daughter was overworked and on the verge of a breakdown. She was solicitous to a point that made her attentions and warnings well-nigh unbearable. Ed was equally perturbed, but he was careful to say nothing about it, although his furtive observation betrayed him. Glada knew that he was only waiting to be told of her trouble, anxious to help if she would give him an opportunity. Try as she might, she could only find one solution. That was to pay the girl what she wanted, then in somo way tie tho bribe to a certainty that there would be no further demand in the future. She belioved sho could do that by hanging some dire threat over Tess Sidbury's head. If only there were some ways of knowing if the accusations were true. But, as Masters pointed out, that didn't make much difference. If once tho charge was aired, the damage was done. No matter what was or what was not proved by any one. But where was the thousand dollars coming from? If it camo to a matter of payment, Glada was shrewd enough to appreciate that it would have to be a cash transaction. There could be no cheques or record that could bo traced to the receiver. No partial payment. Her father would know what to do; he would do it. But it seemed so utterly impossible to take it up with him. It would be the last of last resorts.

“It's a good deal of a car for one man," he ranted, “but I’m glad the deal is over and I can escape the attention of prospective salesmen. Mr. Bailey Lee was the gentleman who Anally wore down my resistance." “So I judged. Let me join in the family thanks.'' “You are welcome, I'm sure. It seems to be very satisfactory." Stirling stood, after that remark, looking about somewhat uncertainly until Glada was impelled to ask him into the house. “If you're not too busy," he said soberly. “For just a few minutes and, perhaps, a drink of your well water. I’m getting to bo an addict." “Of course I'm not too busy. If you will go into the office, I'll bring you some water." A moment later she was in the kitchen saying to Irma, “A pitcher of cold water and a glass, please, Irma. Mr. Stirling is in the office. He says he's thirsty." “Well, now, I thought that was him!" Mrs. Peters exclaimed. “Just a glimpse of him. He's such a nice-look-nig man, I think. Say, Miss Glada, is he going to be here for lunch? I baked two cherry pies this morning and they do look nice, if I do say so." “No. Ho won't be here for lunch," Glada returned shortly. She took the pitcher and glass from Irma. “Thanks." “That's funny," Irma remarked to Cobb who had watched the scene from his corner. “I sort of had an idea that preacher fellow was sweet on Mi3s Glada. She acts like she didn’t much care to havo him around. Her mother sure likes him." “It's most likely the chickens," Cobb observed dryly. “They say all preachers like chicken. Miss Glada's too smart to waste her time on men, anyway.'' “Humph." In the office, Stirling drank two glasses of water before he set tho tumbler aside with a satisfied sigh. “Marvellous," ho smiled. “It makes one singularly content." “Does it?" Glad.i looked at the pitcher with a slight frown. “It does. So much so that I’d like nothing better now than to sit back and listen to you talk." “I’m afraid I haven't anything of interest to relate this morning." “Oli, but you have! Of the greatest interest to me. It's about yourself, this time." “I’m afraid I’m too dense to understand." “That reminds mo. My now car is so sturdy and powerful that I am thiuking of christening it Quasimodo. . . . oven if that gentleman was decidedly ugly. You haven't by any chance read that story yet,, havo you?" “No." “Then I’ll have to forget my initiative. I hope that you can overlook the effrontery of what 1 am about to say, Glada. But I wish you could find it in your heart to let mo try to help you to-day. Please believe me that I am speaking as a friend. Try to forget my profession. Do you think you could?" (To be continued.)

Of course it might bo possible to float a loan. That plan had an appeal. So much so, that Glada drove into town the fourth day of grace with a half formed intention of talking it over with Mr. Jenkins, the president of the Farmers’ Loan and Trust. She had known him all her life. There was an errand to do in the bank and, at least, it seemed like taking action. But her courage ebbed steadily on the way. How could she explain to Mr. Jenkins that her business needed some temporary capital, that she wanted it in cash and not transferred to her account? There would be tho matter of a note and collateral of some sort. Mr. Jenkins might demand an endorser, too. How could she explain that her father knew nothing of her request, that lie must not know ?

While she was at the teller's winBow, etw glanced along the