"NOT SO DUMB.”

Putaruru Press, Volume VIII, Issue 352, 21 August 1930, Page 3

"NOT SO DUMB.”

(Adapted from the play “ Dulcy ”) CHAPTER V.—A SET-UP FOR THIEVES.

Dulcy hurried across the lawn joyously, elated that her plans were working out with the precision of a perfectly running machine; a machine of destruction, if she did but know it. But Dulcy saw only that she was bringing two romantically inclined young people together, not the ominous consequences of such a move. She paused a moment as she caught sight of Van Dyke practising golf shots with all the flourish of a tap dancer spurred on by applause. He was such a satisfactory guest! It was a relief to find one guest who was already enjoying himself so thoroughly. She must throw him and Mr Foi\bes together; maybe he could make the older man enter into the spirit of games where she had failed. “You’re to play eighteen holes of golf with Mr Forbes the first thing in the morning,” she called to him cheerily as she went toward the house. “Don’t take ‘No’ for an answer; I think he is just timid.” >' Even in the depths of his despair Gordon, who came up just in time to hear her, could smile at the prospect of the overbearing Forbes being timid ™ about anything. Dulcy was adorable! But she must be stopped! He shuddered to think of Forbes’ rage if she persisted. “Suppose,” he suggested, hopefully, “that to-morrow we just let everybody do what they want to.” He saw that his suggestion seemed nothing short of idiotic to Dulcy, but he went on determinedly. “You know, let everyone enjoy himself in his own way. Let Van Dyke play golf if he wants to, and let Forbes do just nothing if he prefers.” “Oh, but he’ll have a much better time if he does what I’ve planned for him ”

It was sweet of Gordon not to want her to go to any trouble to entertain Forbes, but she was willing to make any effort and keep right after him if he was the sort who had to be urged. Gordon didn’t seem to realise, V as she did, how important it was to have Forbes in a good humour when they came to talk business. As she rushed on into the living room to greet Vincent Leach, he hardly glanced up. He was intent on polishing his already glossy finger nails against the arm of his coat, and his brow wore the harrassed look of a man who was trying to get over the idea that he had big, vital decisions to make. But to Dulcy, whose all-embracing love of humanity took in conceited poseurs as well as the halt and the , blind, he was one more valuable acN#»quisition to a week-end already burst- * ing with promise of excitement. Her graceful little hands fluttered q|d; in a gesture of delight as she tOTd him: “They’re all dying to meet you.” Vincent Leach wore a bored air of “Why not?” Condescending, he advanced toward her. “Miss Parker, my dear lady—” But Dulcy couldn’t wait to tell him her news. “I have a surprise for you,” she gloated. “Wait until you see who is here. Come on out on the porch.” She rushed ahead of him and paused significantly as though her announcement was of great importance. The roll of drums that precedes an acrobat’s climatic feat couldn’t have been more startling to the small gathering.

“Here he is! Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr Vincent Leach, the great scenario writer.” Gordon wondered if there was ever

I a more ominous moment. Forbes ; lucked at Dulcy puzzled ana annoyed | as it he were bewiidered at the mere I thought of such a catastrophe. A man I can stand just so much, and if Dulcy had combed the whole, wide world she couldn’t have found anyone less welcome to his presence than this dandified talking machine, t Mrs. Forbes looked at Vincent i in some appren elision, out she u-diVt intend to have her chance of meeting I a real personage spoiled. And Dulcy presented her, explaining that of course she was much too young to be anything but Angela’s stepmother, she beamed with pleasure. Perhaps the consolation of this warmth made up for the chill of his reception from the men. Bill glowered at him. It suddenly dawned on him that this must be the man Angela had told him about. 'lt was humiliating enough to lose a girl to any man, but to have this arrogant nit-wit for a rival was too much. Bill was fighting mad! Dulcy was serenely oblivious to 1 everything but the obvious delight of Angela and Vincent in seeing each ' other. Angela lifted her eyes to his in a long fervent glance, broken only when ! Dulcy whispered excitedly, “Didn’t I tell you I had a surprise for you?” It was as though the others didn’t exist at all. . Angela stood awed, i speechless. She wanted to thank I Dulcy, but could do nothing but gaze i tremulously at Vincent. | Dulcy couldn’t allow them to monof polise each other for long, she reminded herself. Mr Forbes didn’t i seem much impressed, now that she [ stopped to notice it, but he would be when he heard how perfectly wonderful Vincent was. “Mr Leach showed us through his studio the other day,” she told Forbes ! delightedly, “and he almost kidnap--1 ped your little girl to make a picture I star out of her.” This seemed only to make matters worse. “Mr Leach is a scenario writer,” she explained, in an awed tone. Vincent needed no further encourto explain himself. “Not scenario writer,” he corrected her importantly. “Scenarist. It’s the more modern term. The scenarist of to-day is quite different from the scenario writer of yesterday.” Not noticing the gathering clouds in Forbes’ direction, Dulcy encouraged him. “Of course,” he explained casually, as though to make light of big achievements, “It’s a man-sized job. But I just keep on and on until—you see ? ”

“What?” asked Bill, only to be promptly and audibly hushed by Dulcy. “You know, I have been doing so many stories of my own lately, I think I’ll try something of Shakespeare’s next. You know the old fellow had quite a sense of drama.” Forbes was almost apoplectic with rage. Not that he cared about anyone patronising some dead one, but the infernal cheek of this human cartoon simpering at Angela as if he owned her. He would have to keep closer watch of Angela in the future. First thing he knew he would have some scarecrow in the family. “Didn’t I hear that you were interested in pictures?” Vincent asked. Forbes didn’t often permit himself the use of profanity; he saved it for such moments as these. But he was so incoherent with rage no one could understand him.

“I said I made jewellery,” he explained, the words issuing from his mouth like bullets.

“ Well, of course,” Vincent granted with an air of great generosity; “that’s very necessary, too, in its way.”

Gordon could not restrain himself any longer. He went to Dulcy’s side and clutched her arm nervously. Even

Dulcy could see that something should be done to relieve the situation. “Let’s play a rubber of bridge before dinner,” she suggested eagerly, "it's so nice and soothing.’' Forbes’ protests that he didn’t want to p;ay bridge, that he had never even heard or tne game, were unavailing oefore tue flood tx jjx.cy's eatlius.asm.

And why don’t you and Angela go out on the iawn to see the v.ew .'” snc asked Vincent. Forbes was powerless before her bland, beautiful innocence of what she was doing. Savagely he reflected that he must get away from her. He turnecl(( n d stalked toward the door. “I’ll come back, I think,” he muttered, "ix i cant ,i:ia , vwa , escape.”

" Ivlaybe we would all feel better it we had a cocktail,” Gordon suggested to Dulcy, hoping somehow to relieve the tension of the situation, and praying that he could keep her from insisting on a bridge game. Why couldn’t she see that people didn’t always want to do what she wanted. Why could not she understand that Forbes didn’t want his daughter left out there in the garden with that sentimental fool of a Vincent. “ You know,” Bill observed, just as though the moment were not fraught with tragedy for Gordon, “ this is probably going to be the first weekend party on record that ended on Friday night.” Bill could afford to joke about it; his whole future didn’t depend on putting over a business deal with Forbes.

Dulcy started off to get the bridge table, a little subdued by the strange departure of Mr Forbes. But she forgot him in her delight at seeing two of her guests hitting it off well together. Mrs Forbes and Schuyler Van Dyke were lingering on the porch, engrossed in each other. “ Two’s company and three’s a crowd,” she laughed gaily as she hurried away from them. “ I must go and dress for dinner.”

Mrs Forbes was a little plaintive about it, and it took little urging from Van Dyke to persuade her to stay. This rare opportunity to get away from the stolid dignity of her husband and bask in the attentions of a man of the world so carried her away that she didn’t see the menacing figure of Forbes coming across the lawn. “ I find you even more interesting than I had anticipated,” Van Dyke assured her fervently. “ You have j depths.” “Are you going to—fathom them? ” she asked archly. It was long since she had had an opportunity to flirt with any man. One would as soon think of flirting I with Grant’s Tomb as with C. Roger j Forbes, and their courtship had been I only a little less stupid than their I marriage had been. She warmed to I Van Dyke’s advances, and giggled ner- I vously as a schoolgirl. I “Is that you, Eleanor?” There I was a noticeable chill in Forbes’ Voice I as he advanced toward them. “ I shall see you later, I hope.” Van I Dyke murmured hastily, but not quite I hastily enough. “ And you, too—” he quickly ad- I ded, turning to Forbes, before he I strolled into the house. “ Much later I hope,” Forbes mut- I tered. “Well, Eleanor?” He gave her a chance to explain her I actions, much in the manner «\f an I executioner who, with knife already I poised, asks a prisoner if he has any- 1 thing to say for himself. “ Isn’t it enough to have Angela mooning off with that conceited mo-tion-picture jackass ? ” he asked in a cold fury. Her protests that Leach was charming and talented only fed his wrath. “ Bah,” he exploded. “ And on top of that I come here and find you spooning with this Van Dyke.” Nothing she could say would appease him. Annoyance bottled up all day, burst forth.

“ I tell you this place is going to drive me crazy. I didn’t want to come, anyway. I wanted to stay home and rest. And instead of that I’ve got to get up at some ungodly hour in the morning and ride a horse. If there is .one thing I hate more than anything else it’s riding a horse—unless it’s bridge or moving pictures.’’ She had never seen him in quite so black a mood as this. She wished that he were at home where he could take it out in slamming doors and firing servants, for pacing up and down the way he was would only make him worse. His back would begin to hurt him and she would have to stay upstairs nursing him and miss seeing Van Dyke again.

“ I tell you,” Forbes went on grimly, “ if it weren’t for Smith and our business relations, I’d go back horn ■. to-night.” It was too late to try and calm hirv now. He had started in the house. “ Smith, I want to talk to you,” hu began, stamping up to Gordon, belligerently, and waving aside the proffered cocktail. “ Miss Parker has been telling .iw something of your other business activities.” He was in no mood to be interrupted by Gordon’s gasp of astonishment, or his attempted denial*. “ And it came as something of a revelation to—” Out of the corner of his eye ne saw Van Dyke hurrying towards his wife, saw them stand closely together talk-

ing in whispers. “ As you may have been aware,” he went on explosively, “ my agreement to admit you nn a sixteen and two-thirds per cent basis was founded on the expectation that you would give all your time to the new enterprise. Under the circumstances, your business and your services would hardly be worth that to me.” Frantically, Gordon tried to correct the misunderstanding. But men with their whole minds on the task had faltered at trying to make Roger Forbes listen to their side of an argument, and Gordon’s mind was distracted, wondering what Dulcy might have said. Dulcy must have been joking. That was it, he decided. Sometimes, it was so hard for people to understand Dulcy’s jokes.

Before he could enter a sweeping denial of the charges against him.

I Dulcy rushed in, blithely unconscious of the tragic crisis Gordon was facI ing. “ Oh, here are the bridge players,” she called gaily. “Bring tile table here, Perkins. Why, Mr Forbes, you I haven’t any cocktail.” I Forbes grunted. It seemed to him I that the room had suddenly grown j I unbearably hot. | “ I would like a drink of water,” . he told her. “ Wouldn’t you rather have some .'ringer ale or lemonade? ” she asked, I eager to please. j “ I’d like a glass of plain water,” he told her firmly, longing to crush | her slim, white neck in his trembling . fingers. | “ IV ouldn’t you rather have white ! rock? ” Surely she could suggest j something better than water. “Or , perhaps some lemon pop ? ” If she kept on she was sure she I could think of something he wanted. I Forbes was struggling against a ! desire to scream. 1 “ Strange as it may seem,” he said j coldly, “ I would like a glass of plain I water.”

I Gordon stood by helpless, suffering. He was limp with exhaustion when Dulcy finally gave in and told Perkins ! to bring a giass of water, j Forbes took one last venomous glance at his wife and Van Dyke whispering in a far corner before he mov|ed toward the bridge table. Gordon | recalled with a sinking feeling that ■ he was said to be an expert at cards. 1 “ I always say I don’t play bridge. I play at it,” Dulcy chirped. “ And | don’t tell me whether you discard 1 from weakness or from strength,” she I cautioned Forbes playfully, “ I can’t remember, and anyway I always say I that anything you discard can’t be i very important anyway.” ! Dulcy called it bridge; to the others j it promised to be torture, j “ We’re going to be partners, Mr j Forbes. You don’t mind do you? ” Forbes slumped deeper into his I ! chair. “ I don’t mind anything,” he said i wearily, little suspecting what plans for entertainment Dulcy had up her sleeve. i (To be continued.)