"SWEET FOR A SEASON"

Manawatu Times, Volume 64, Issue 308, 30 December 1939, Page 9

"SWEET FOR A SEASON"

(By JOSEPH McCORD)

J ♦ Instalment 13. |

Synopsis of Preceding Instalments: Glada Lee worries her mother be* cause she dropped her university course after two years, went to the 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 JRev, Lynn Stirling, to dinner. When she suggests later that Stirling would make 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 that ho 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 you.” When he next visits the Lees he asks Glada to be his friend. Cobb Peters, her farm manager, breaks his leg and she gives Gem Jones, a down-and-outer, a job. He gives evidence of culture but has a puzzling manner. Tes Sid bury, heavy with make-up, goes to the farm and tells Glada that. Masters has jilted her for “the 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 that much money, Tess threatens to go to the Barclays. Masters tells Glada ho met the girl at a party, there was much drinking and he is hazy about what happened. They agreo that it she makes her claim public the damage is done. Stirling, noting that Glada looks worried, follows her. “I can’t stand it any more!” sho bursts out.

she lives there, too.” “Then you know her name.” “Yes. It’s Tess Sidbury.” “For some reason that sounds about as it should,” Stirling conceded with a slight smile. Ho took a small memorandum book and pencil from his pocket as he spoke. Glada’s eyes widened with fear as she saw him writing. “What are you doing?” she demanded breathlessly. “Making a note of that name and address. I was planning to take a little jaunt to-day to loosen up my new motor. Kedron should do nicely. How far did you say it was?” “No, no! You mustn’t do that, Mr. Stirling. I can’t let you! It isn’t . . . it won't do. Please ” “And why not? No ono in that town knows me, I think. I will merely represent myself as your attornoy. An attorney doesn’t have to be a lawyer, you know. So my integrity will be safe.” “Oh, but don’t you see ...” Glada was beginning nervously, when Stirling cut her short. There was a hint of sternness in his words. “Listen, Glada. I am better fitted than you to attempt a solution of this affair. I am as much concerned for your family as for you. Mr. aud Mrs. Lee are my good friends. You will have to let mo help if I can v Something tells mo that this woman’s case needs investigating, if money will satisfy her. She may be bold, but the chances are that sho is ignorant. She may even bo acting as a tool for some unscrupulous person. If I can meet her, I will find out. If my suspicions are correct, I think I can make her listen to reason.” “Oh, I don’t know what to say,” Glada admitted helplessly. * 1 Had you some definite plan in mind?” “No. . . ”

Instead of responding to Glada's unintentional outburst with any expression of comfort or sympathy, Lynn Stirling leaned back in his chair and resumed his study of the wall across the room. Ho believed he understood Glada well enough to know .that she prided hersolf upon her reserve. Any suggestion that sho might confide in him at the moment would defeat its own ends. He would wait until she recovered her selfcontrol in a measure, would act as if nothing unusual had happened. Already she was dabbing at her eyes impatiently, trying to conceal her mortification. “1 don't know what’s the matter with me to-day,” she said at last. “I’m acting like a fool.” “Merely a matter of nerves,” Stirling suggested amiably. “They’re funny little strings at times. They grow weary like the rest of the human machine and start acting up. It’s nothing very serious.” To prove it he smiled at her. “I didn’t suppose I qould talk about it to anyone,” Glada explained in dull wonderment. “I didn’t. I don’t know why I’m telling my troubles to you.” “Oh, I’m a good listener. Perhaps it will help.” Still he did not urge her. “Well . . . It isn’t any personal trouble ... in a way. It’s ... Did you ever meet my youngest brother?” She had taken the plunge, now. “I believe not. Of course I have heard your mother and father speak of him. If I am correct, he works in a bank out in the state and has shown rare judgment in winning the hand of the president’s only child.” Ho caught his breath when he saw Glada wince perceptibly at Ms pleasantry. “Forgive me,” ho said hastity. “I am afraid I put my finger on the trouble.” “Yes,” she admitted with difficulty. “Masters plans to marry Evelyn Barclay. He did plan to, but there is . . . there’s someone else. A girl.” Stirling was the one who broke the silonce that followed. He spoke in quiet, reassuring tones. “I think I can make it easy for you, Glada. You can tell me if I am wrong. This . . . Barclay, 1 believe you said ... is a bank president. Ordinaiily, that means importance in any community, more or less wealth and social prestige. An only child is a precious possession. Any difficulty about that marriage means a sad blow to the girl and her parents. A sad blow to your brother’s prospects and . . . I’m being perfectly frank . . . his reputation. And you are thinking mainly of your parents. I don’t wonder that you’ro ‘upset’ ... to put it mildly. Am I reconstructing that part of it correctly?” Glada nodded helplessly. “And, now . . . the other part. I think I understand. This other woman ... is she an innocent girl whose character deserves as much consideration as . . . Miss Barclay’s, for instance?” “I don’t believe so,” Glada answered in a low voice. “I saw her only once . . . here at the farm. It was last week. ’ ’ “That was what I wanted to know,” Stirling said quickly. “Was it money?” Glada’s eyes widened. “How did you guess that?” “It was not difficult to deduce. Such a situation has often been a tempting proposition to blackmailers, you see. Her claim if sho publishes it, will do the damage you hope to avert.” Stirling knit his brows. “Do you mind telling mo if it is a large sum?” “A thousand dollars.” “Which you would pay immediately in the hope that the whole matter would vanish and that no lives would be ruined. I don’t blame you. The money is troubling you mostly at the moment. You shouldn’t think of paying, believe me. There may be some other way. How soon do you have to answer the demand?” “By Tuesday,” Glada informed him hopolessly. “Two days. Not very long, is it? But a good deal can happen in two dayfc. Where does this girl live. Do you know?” “She told me I could reach her at Ivedron, general delivery. That is the town where Masters works. I suppose

“Then we will try my solution. I will have word to you by to-morrow morning . . . possibly to-night, if it is not too late when I return. In the meantime you are not to worry any more than you must. That’s a large order, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how to .... to thank you, Mr. Stirling. You don’t know. . . ” “Oh, yes, I do. And there is one thing I want you to know. I would gladly do the same for any of my good friends. And, for some reason or other, I am fortunate in having a great many.” He rose to his feet. “I must be going. Good-bye.' ’ With a friendly nod he left the room, as if his call and forthcoming errand were of the most casual importance. Irma Peters had discovered that Gem was more sympathetic than Cobb, when something happened to disturb her equanimity. So, when she observed him at the pump making ready for dinner, she took occasion to speak to him. Incidentally, she was curious to see what effect, if any, the tidings would produce. “Gern, I’m kind of upset about Miss Glada.”

“Yeah?” He ran his wet fingers through his red curls and waited for Irma to go on with the details. She lowered her voice confidentially. “Why, I put Miss Glada’s lunch out on the dining-room table, same as I always do. She never does eat much more than a bird at noon. Anyway, I went to call her. Then I didn’t.” “No?”

• “No, I didn’t. The door was open a little and I happened to see her,first. She had her head down on the desk and she was crying. I could tell from the way her shoulders shook, even though she didn’t make any noise. I never saw her cry before. I don't know what I should do.” “Why do anything? Most girls has the weeps now and then. So I’vo been told.’ ’

“Well, it isn’t like Miss Glada. And that isn’t all. That preacher, Mr. Stirling, drove in hero right behind Miss Glada. She took. him into the office and they talked for a good half hour or more. I can’t think what he could have said to her to make her cry like that . . . unless he had bad news for her. And that don’t seem very likely. But he must have had something to do with it, don’t you think?” Gern stood drying hia hands slowly, his dark eyes seemingly fixed on something in the distance. His face was absolutely devoid of expression. “Well?” Irma repeated impatiently. “What do you think?” “Nothing, my dear woman. Bocause it’s none of my affair. However, if you want a statement, and your supposition is correct, you may quote me as saying that I’d cheerfully wring his damn neck. End quote.” “Why, Gern Jones! Well, I guess I hadn’t better call her. Come in, now. Yours and Cobb’s dinner’s on the table.”

When cold water and make-up had repaired damages, Glada found herself strangely comforted by the unlooked-for turn of events. There was no reason for it, not yet, but it seemed that a load had beon lifted from her shoulders. These next few hours would bo a reprieve at least, and there was the hope of freedom and safety raising its head for tho first time. She tried to keep telling herself that there was every chance of that trip to Kedron ending in failure. But it was different now. Some one was trying to help her. Air. Stirling had so positive a way about him that his assurance was contagious. He would never deceive anyone or hold out false hopes. That was inconceivable. If only he might succeod! If only he might. The same assurance holped that evening when she sat down to dinner with her father and mother, to such an extent that she found herself taking part in the conversation in almost her accustomed manner. Ed Lee was quick to notice it and unable to conceal his gratification. “You look pretty chipper to-night, young lady,” he smiled at her. “You must have had a successful session among your feathered herds. Did you?” “Not bad at all,” she assured him. “But I don’t like those rings under her eyes,” Alary contributed from her

place behind the silver coffee pot. To which her daughter replied with a goodnatured shrug, “Well, I don’t wear any on my fingers Alama. So « . Too late, she realized that it was the wrong thing to say. “I wish you did . . . one, at least,” Mary observed drily. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d say you had been crying. ’ ’ “I don’t waste my time on such childish pastimes,” was the lofty answer. “May I have some more coffee. . . half a cup, please?” As the evening wore on, Glada found herself listening for the telephone. If it rang, she must be the one to answer. She curled up in an easy chair with a book and tried to read, but she kept wondering how long it would take Air. Stirling to locate the girl. It was too early to expect any word, yot ho said he might call. If only he would. Sho was relieved when ten o’clock came and Alary Lee departed for bed. Ed was nodding over a magazine, rousing now and again to light his pipe. Finally, ho too capitulated with a prodigious yawn. “Well, Glada, I’m turning in,” ho announced. “How about you?” “Pretty soon, daddy. I want to finish this chapter. ’ ’ “All right.” Ho stooped and kissed her on tho forehead. “Good night. . . sleep tight. Don’t forget to turn out the lights.” As soon as she heard him mount the stairs, Glada gave up all pretence of reading . She lay back in her chair eyes closed, every nervo in her body taut. At last there came a subdued ringing in the back hall. “Yes?” she questioned tersely. “Is this Miss Lee?” “Yes!” “I am sorry to call so late,” said the quiet voice, “ but I only just reached town. I knew you would like to know that the trip was successful.” “You mean. . .?” “Successful. I will get in touch with you to-morrow at any time you like. Good night.” (To be continued.)

HOUSEKEEPER OF THE ARMK LONDON.

Armies gain fame by winning battles, but not the least of their achievements is supplying themselves with food, clothing, equipment, and shelter. The mighty task of providing for the British Army is the responsibility of Lieutenant-general Sir Walter Venning, Quartermaster-general to the Forces. The housekeeper to the army has to be a very good businessman, something of a lawyer, and an extremely able administrator, and must have the solid business sense of a managing director and the judicial outlook of a family lawyer He has to supply the army with nearly all it needs—arms and ammuntica, clothes of every kind, stores from ilea powder to curry powder, and from blankets to barbed wire, huts, barracks, tents and billets, and transport on land, sea, and air, which includes the buying, hiring, and commandeering of thousands of railway rniiinsr stock, road vehicles, and animals. In the current 12 months £6O-million is to bo spent on huts alone in Britain. In peace time £B-million a year wat spent on food, petrol and oil, but the present figure, which must be very much greater, has not been announced.