Newspaper Page Text
A-' Jr silr
* O-J
(copyrighdinezTaynes-irwin W.N.U. SERVICE!
VhfINMHBaHB*fIMNfIfIfIfIaEMaBBHNfIfIHBMBaMMHaBM>MfIfIEanMBDC9EWaMOV<MnHnIMIHMiV
Doctor Warden bowed in a polite
acquiescence. He made no com
hnent.
“What to your best knowledge
and belief was Doctor Blaikie’s
-frame of mind while you talked
with him? Did you get any im
pression?”
“He gave me the impression that
he was extremely happy—triumph
ant, definitely triumphant. I might
say, he breathed, he emanated tri
umph.”
Patrick’s thick - lashed eyelids
dropped. He seemed to reflect deep
ly. “Well, I guess that will be
all,” he said. “Wait a moment
though. I’m the poorest hand in
the world at remembering figures.”
He reached into his waistcoat pock
et, brought out the little red leath-
JHI flj
tA 'jil gdn
JR '
“Do You Recognize That?”
er notebook. “I’d like to take down
the hours as you remember them—
of your arrival and departures
from the Stow house.”
He reached into one pocket and
then another, another and another.
“I cannot keep a pencil!” he mut
tered.
I moved in the direction of my
desk. Before I could reach it how
ever, Doctor Warden had offered
Patrick a fountain pen. Patrick
busied himself a moment or two
writing, handed the pen back.
“Thank you very much, Doctor
Warden. I won’t detain you any
longer.”
“Oh by the way, Doctor War
den—” Patrick reached into his
pocket again “ —do you recognize
that?"
Doctor Warden answered instant
ly, “Yes.”
“Does it belong to you?”
“Yes.”
“When did you last see it?”
“The last time I noticed it was
when I put on my slippers to go
to the masquerade. It’s one of a
pair of old paste buckles that I
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111l
BLAKELY THEATRE
Thursday-Friday, Dec. 17-18
JOAN CRAWFORD and ROBERT TAYLOR
—in—
“THE GORGEOUS HUSSY”
With FRANCHOT TONE, LIONEL BARRYMORE
and MELVYN DOUGLASS
Saturday, Dec. 19
GENE AUTRY
—in-
“OH, SUSANNAH!”
Monday-Tuesday, Dec. 21-22
WALLACE BEERY, ERIC LINDEN and
CECELIA PARKER in
“OLD HUTCH”
illllllllllllllllllllllllllllllWlllllllllllllllllll!lllllllllllll||||j||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
bought some “years ago in Pans.
I lost it that night.”
“Had you any idea where you
lost it?”
“I thought it must have dropped
off in that walk I took. It seems to
me that had it been lost in the
house, I would have noticed it."
“Did you make any attempt to
find it?”
“Yes. I got up very early Sun
day morning and went over the
road I took, to see if I could find
it.”
“Don’t you think that that might
look suspicious?”
“Perhaps. But I suppose I would
also think that whether it looked
suspicious or not would depend on
my standing in the community—
my reputation for decency and hon
or. I am perfectly willing to ad
mit that I didn’t want to be in
volved as a witness in this case.
Naturally I did not want to get into
it. Woreover, the buckle is an ex
tremely valuable one. It is part
of a set and although that was
not, in view of the great tragedy,
of momentous importance, it was
of some importance.”
“Well,” Patrick decided, “I guess
that will be all.”
Doctor Warden arose. He bowed
to Patrick; came over to my side;
bent low over my hand. “Dear
lady,” he said, “I cannot tell you
how much I think of you in these
distressing days.”
Something in his voice brought
the tears to my eyes again. Then
with his quick, light step, he started
to go.
“I’m afraid, Doctor Warden,"
Patrick said his last word, “I shall
have to ask you not to leave the
Head until I give you permission.”
“I give you my word I shall not
leave it.”
“Well, Wary,” Patrick said in a
weary tone. “It all makes sense.
Here we have a perfect design—
Torriano first, Wargaret next, then
Warden. No one of them seems
to have told anything but the truth.
They’re all dying to tell the truth.
If somebody would only lie, maybe
I could get the answer. Os course
Wargaret said she thought she
heard something stirring in the
bushes. Warden apparently noticed
nothing like that. Now there may
have been another person involved
or any number. For that matter,
Wargaret Fairweather may have
returned and—Oh, I don’t know
who killed Ace Blaikie. I’m no
nearer knowing than I was Satur
day. Who’s that?”
Vaguely in the back of my mind
I had heard Doctor Warden drive
off. In the back of my mind I
heard a second motor turn into the
drive. It stopped. Presently a light,
swift step came through the hall
and into the living room—a light,
swift step—strangely stiffened by
determination.
“I’ve come back to tell you the
rest of my story, Mr. O’Brien,”
said Myron Warden. “I haven’t told
you all of it yet!”
Involuntarily we all three sat
down.
“I will begin it by telling you,”
Doctor Warden took up the story
in the quietest '-nice I had ever
EARLY COUNTY NEWS, BLAKELY, GEORGIA
heard from him, “something that
will, I think, come as a great sur
prise to you.” He paused as though
to summon his strength for the
revelation. “Ace Blaikie is the fa
ther of my granddaughter Caro
Prentiss.”
He paused again as though for a
question or comment from us.
But neither Partick nor I spoke.
We did not stir. His statement had
worked too great a paralysis fcr
us either to speak or move.
“I’ll have to go back of course to
tell you how it came about. I will
begin with my own marriage. My
wife was a New York woman.
I met her, about forty years
ago, she was a widow. She had
been widowed twice and both times
under tragic conditions. Her first
husband, Theodore Prentiss, also a
New Yorker, was thrown from his
horse a month after their marriage.
He died instantly. She became the
mother of his posthumous child—a
boy, Theodore Prentiss. Five years
later, she married again—Addison
Dacre. He too was a New Yorker.
While they were traveling in
France, he died in Paris of a case
of pneumonia. She was pregnant
at the time and the shock brought
on the premature birth of a little
girl who was to be named Eleanor
Dacre. I was established as a
physician in Paris and I was called
in on the case. This was immedi
ately after the funeral—l never met
Addison Dacre.
“Mrs. Dacre was a beautiful
woman—a very lovely woman. I
felt that if the child died, her very
reason would go. I threw myself
heart and soul into saving that pre
mature little waif—and I did save
her. I took care of her for months.
Os course that constant attendance
brought Mrs. Dacre and me very
close. By the time Eleanor was a
year old, we realized that life
meant nothing to either of us with
out the other. Six months later we
were married quietly in Paris. My
practice was there and we have
lived in Paris, except for our holi
days, ever since. My wife died
two years ago and, after I had a
little recovered from my grief, I
decided to return to America. But
I am running ahead of my story.
I must go back to Eleanor.
“There could not possibly ever
have lived a more lovely child than
Eleanor. And when I use the word
‘lovely,’ I use it advisedly. She
was lovely in face and figure; love
ly in heart and spirit. I adored
her.
“A beautiful child, Eleanor grew
to be a beautiful woman. I do not
think that this is prejudice. Every
where, her appearance made a sen
sation. That was not entirely due
to her beauty perhaps. It was part
ly her coloring. It was the most
delicate blonde I have ever seen—
ethereal. Often Mrs. Marden and
I discussed the proper adjective to
apply to Eleanor. She was not an
gelic nor seraphic nor cherubic.
She was too tall to be fairy-like.
She was sprite-like. Her hair was
the palest gold, her features what
we used to call mignonne, her eyes
deeply violet.
“The French always stared at
her and in Spain and Italy she cre
ated such a sensation that she did
not like to go out on the street
alone. She had courage enough,
but she hated the little incidents
which occurred here and there
along the way. I will not say that
Eleanor was an angel, although
she was a kind of modern angel.
She was too vigorous to suggest
that sort of thing. But she was
absolutely honest. She was sweet.
She was kind. We worshiped her—
my wife and I.”
Doctor Marden came to a full
stop. He put his hand over his
eyes and sank back into the past.
Presently with a deep sigh he
emerged into the present again.
“When the war came, I enlisted
as a volunteer in the French medi
cal service. I will say here that
we are a medical family, so to
speak. Before the war was over,
there were a half dozen Mardens
working in France. When the Unit
ed States came in, I was trans
ferred to the American service.”
He paused and looked inquiringly
at Patrick. Patrick nodded. He
did not speak. I knew that no
more than I would he have inter
rupted the flow of that story.
Doctor Marden went on. “My
wife threw herself into war work
too. For four years she worked
daily at the American Ambulance
in Neuilly. Eleanor—perhaps now
I had better tell you about Elea
nor.
“Eleanor was a natural nurse.
She never took a course in nurs
ing, but I taught her everything
I knew. She volunteered when I
did and the French sent her to the
hospital at Courcy-sur-Seine. She
stayed there for about a year. I
saw her only at irregular intervals.
I had an occasional permission
from the front and then she and my
wife and I would try to manage a
reunion at our home in Paris. But
I did not see much of Eleanor dur
ing the first months of the war. I
went through what many husbands
were going through in France then.
I saw my wife getting more and
more fatigued—nervously exhaust
ed. But Eleanor stood up to it
marvelously. But every time I saw
her, it seemed to me that she had
become more of a woman, more
and more beautiful. Then Ace
Blaikie appeared in her life.”
Again Doctor Marden came to a
pause and now he did not cover his
face with his hands. He presented,
unscreened, the hard bitter eyes.
the light-shut Ups - ; the SeTness of
every line and curve.
“I know that you, Mrs. Avery,
are acquainted with the factors of
Ace Blaikie’s war experience be
cause I’ve heard you discuss them
so often.”
“And besides,” I reminded him,
“my husband was in France.”
“Well then, I will merely say
that it was while he was in the
Foreign Legion that he met Eleanor.
It seemed to have been a case of
love at first sight. Certainly with
Eleanor. And as she afterward told
me, Doctor Blaikie said it was so
with him. But when it comes to
Doctor Blaikie and love ”
The expression on Doctor Mar
den’s face deepened so horribly
that it was as though the blood
behind the flesh had turned to ink.
For a moment the term my hus
band used to use in regard to box
ing and boxers came into my mind
—fighting face.
“ —he did not know really what
love was. On that side he was not
man but beast. At any rate they
met as often as his permissions and
hers allowed. What happened of
course was that Ace Blaikie dis
covered that in order to possess my
daughter, he must offer her mar
riage. Understand—“ Doctor Mar
den’s voice shot to us a peremp
tory order. “Understand that this
was not a subject that Eleanor
would discuss with any man. He
had to learn that—to sense it. And
he was apparently extremely acute
in sensing the reactions of the oth
er sex. At any rate they were mar
ried secretly. That was before the
United States came in. It was in
thq, summer of 1915. I will not
go into all the ins and outs of this.
I will say only that marriage in
France is a very complicated mat
ter. Ace Blaikie had made friends
with a French officer who had a
long pull. He fixed it so that Ace
and Eleanor were married secretly.
“Presently Eleanor found herself
pregnant. She told me afterward
that there was nothing in the world
she wanted so much as to bear a
child. It was several months aft
er this discovery before she saw
Ace Blaikie. At their first meet
ing, she told him that she was going
to make their marriage public She
could see, as she told me subse
quently, that Ace Blaikie was ap
palled at this discovery. He tried
to get her to withdraw from the
hospital and go to America. And
if not to America, to Italy or Spain.
Eleanor steadily refused. Finally,
she told him if he gave her no
help, she must apply to me —that
the marriage must be announced.
Thereupon, he told her that she
was, in reality, not married at all.
That, a few years before, he had
secretly married in the United
States an actress by the name of
Drina Demoyne ”
“Drina Demoyne!” I interrupted.
“I’ve seen Drina Demoyne. Why,
what was it I read about her just
the other day? She died recently.”
“Yes,” Doctor Marden answered.
“Her death has a great bearing
on this story. That revelation of
Ace Blaikie’s was really Eleanor’s
death warrant. She never saw him
again. But she communicated with
me once. I got a permission and
came back from the front. She
told me the whole story. My wife
and I had but one idea—to save
Eleanor’s reputation. Now it hap
pened that my wife’s son by her
first marriage, Theodore Prentiss,
was living during the war in a re
mote village in southern France.
He volunteered for both the French
and American armies. But he had
always been an invalid and
could not be used either as a sol
dier or in any civilian capacity.
He was married and his wife was
pregnant. I sent Eleanor to them,
My step-son’s wife died bringing a
dead child into the world. Theo
dore survived her only six months.
In the meantime, Eleanor bore a
perfectly healthy baby whom she
named Caroline after my wife. This
was the Caro whom you know. Be
fore he died, Theodore suggested a
plan. We carried it out. We reg
istered her in the Marie of Laitry
as Caroline Blaikie. We registered
her under that name as an Ameri
can citizen, with the consul of Mar
seilles. I can show you that she
bears that name on her passport.
But we told all her friends in Paris
and have told them ever since that
she was Theodore’s child. As soon
as I could get leave, I took my
wife and daughter to Spain.”
He paused. For an instant he bit
his lower lip as though to fang out
of it the emotion which made it
tremble.
“There my daughter killed her
self.”
Neither Patrick nor I made com
ment. He himself made no further
comment. “When we returned to
Paris, however, there was never
any question of Eleanor’s not be
ing Theodore Prentiss’s child—Car
oline Prentiss. And so she grew
up. She has no more idea of her
relationship to Ace than you had
before I told you this story. As
she is a minor, I got her passport.
She has never seen it.
“Concealing her real name from
Caro has been one of the minor
troubles of my life. But I’ve ac
complished it. I brought her up
in Paris, as you know. But as
she grew older, I wondered about
her forbears in America. I knew
that people thought of Ace Blaikie
as a rich man. I knew that he had
property in Satuit, Massachusetts.
I began to wonder if, as he grew
older, he would not want his only
child—if only child she were—to in-
Good Advice from Wise Old
SANTA CLAUS
BUY FROM
FRYER’S
Everything good to eat for
Christmas season. Shop- M
ping will be made easy if W
you visit Fryer’s Market— /r j
Old Santa’s headquarters. K ( JW
Complete line of Gro
ceries, Fruits, Candies, Cakes, Nuts, Raisins
and Confectioneries for Santa to bring the
little folks. Come to see us. We’ve got the
goods, and our prices are reasonable.
A A. A.A.A.A
FRYER’S MARKET
nerit that property." At TifSt I put
this thought out of my mind. But
it kept recurring. It troubled me.
I finally found it was keeping me
awake nights. Sleepless nights be
gan to recur a little too often. I
made inquiries and found that Ace
Blaikie was not only accepted as a
bachelor but that nobody knew that
he had ever been married. Ulti
mately I decided to come to the
United States, to establish myself
at Satuit. It made things easy for
me because I had never met Ace
Blaikie. In the war somebody start
ed calling Eleanor ‘Sister Dora,’
after an old novel, the heroine of
which was a nurse. I confess I
have never read it. Ace Blaikie
never called her anything but Sister
Dora. Although Eleanor’s name
was Dacre, the name of Marden
might of course linger in Ace
Blaikie’s mind. Still, as I said be
fore, there had been at least half a
dozen physicians named Marden
working in Paris during the war.
Last spring, as you both know, I
came here to Satuit. I met Ace
Blaikie socially, of course, although
I made no effort to meet him.
Caro’s name was neither his nor
mine. If the coincidence of a phy
sician from Paris by the name of
Marden gave him pause, he did not
let me know it. He may have
thought of me only as one of the
Marden connection in Paris.
“In the meantime I studied my
man. I found that he was engaged
to be married to a beautiful,
charming and estimable young
girl. That girl became Caro’s most
devoted friend. I confess to you
I did not know what to do. If he
married, Ace Blaikie was likely to
leave children. In the matter of in
heritance, his legitimate heirs
would of course take precedence
over Caro. And the last thing in
the world I wanted—for Caro’s
sake—was a scandal. I let the
summer drift by in a welter of in
decision.”
He paused again and seemed
reminiscently to survey that long
direful period. Then he took up his
story again.
“And then Drina Demoyne died.
The newspaper accounts of her ca
reer said that she had been married
but once—to an actor, Allan Banks.
This was before the war. They
said that once the two separated
for a few years, but were never
divorced. Subsequently, they came
together again and lived together
until Miss Demoyne died. She left
him all her property. I have in
my possession Banks’ affidavit that
he never was divorced from Drina
Demoyne. Ace had mistakenly
thought he committed bigamy in
marrying my daughter but Drina
Demoyne had actually committed
bigamy in marrying him. That
changed the whole complexion of
affairs. Caro was no longer illegit
imate that is, provided Ace
Blaikie had married no other wom
an. She was the heir to his es
tate.
“Then Caro, who has a flattering
way of confiding everything to me,
told me that Molly Eames did not
want to marry Ace Blaikie, that
(Continued on page 5)
1 ON YOUR RADIO! I
■ Natural Chilean Nitrate fl
■ PRESENTS V
I UNCLE NATCHEL I
f AND SONNY 4
Famous Natural Kitrate ■
V Calendar Characters fl
B BE SURE AND LISTEN! ■
■ STATIONS V
Tues, and Thurs. 12:45 P.M. ■
■ Tues, and Thurs. 12:15 P.M. ■
■ Mon. and Wed. 530 P.M. fl
■A Tue.andThur. (C T.) 4:45 P.M.
■ Tues, and Thurs. 12:45 P.M. fl
fl J,?!. Tues, and Thurs. 12:45 P.M. T
Tues, and Thurs. 5:15 P.M. ■
■ w1.,. Tues, and Thurs. 5:45 P.M. fl
■ Mon. and Wed. 12:10 P.M. fl
r Tues, and Thurs. 12:45 P.M ®
fl Tues, and Thurs. 12:30 P.M. 35
fl KWKH Mon. and Wed. 12:45 P.M
CITATION
GEORGIA, Early County:
To Whom It May Concern:
Mrs. P. W. Hart, of said State,
having, in proper form, applied for
permanent letters of administration
on the estate of B. G. Holly, late of
said County, deceased, this is to cite
all and singular the creditors and
next of kin of B. G. Holly, deceased,
to be and appear at the Court of
Ordinary of said County, at the
January term, 1937, and show cause,
if any they have or can, why per
manent letters of administration
should not be granted to said Mrs.
P. W. Hart on said estate.
Witness my official signature,
this Bth day of December, 1936.
D. C. MORGAN, Ordinary.
ADMINISTRATOR’S SALE
GEORGIA—EarIy County:
By virtue of an order from the
court of Ordinary of Early County,
will be sold, at public outcry, on the
First Tuesday in January, 1937, at
the court-house door in said county,
between the legal hours of sale, the
following described lands: 42 acres
of land out of a 50 acre tract in
the northeast corner of lot of land
number 109 in the 6th district of
Early County, Georgia, lying south
of the Blakely and Damascus road,
and bounded on the north by lands
of C. C. Willis, on the south by
lands of E. C. McDowell, on the
east by lands of Mrs. W. M. Lewis,
on the west by lands of E. C. Mc-
Dowell, the same to be sold for cash.
This Bth day of December, 1936.
C. C. WILLIS,
Admr. of J. D. Willis Estate.
THE SIRMONS ESTATE
HAS FOR SALE THE FOLLOWING
PROPERTY:
House and lot where M. W.
Branch now lives,
House and lot where S. Starr now
lives,
Vacant lot south of D. C. Sanders
dwelling,
Vacant mercantile lot in Damas
cus, Ga.,
775 acres land known as Hall
place, about seven miles south of
Arlington, in Early county, east side
Arlington-Damascus public road; al
so:
Five (5) shares stock in Arling
ton Warehouse Company.
Terms if desired.
And and all interested parties will
please communicate with Adminis
trators Estate C. W. Sirmons.
B. W. FORTSON,
R. 0. McNAIR,
B. C. RAY,
Executors Will C. W. Sirmons.
NOTICE TO PUBLIC
You are hereby notified not to
haul wood or otherwise trespass on
the land of the C. Hammond estate.
A. C. HAMMOND. 19-2 t
FOR SALE— 2SO acres of land, on
Bluffton road, eight miles from
Blakely, a real bargain. H. V. KIL
LEBREW T , care Albany Hardware &
Mills Co., Albany, Ga.
BLAKELY CHAPTER 44 R. A. M.
Blakely Chapter 44
W Royal Arch Masons
I meets on the second
and fourth Monday
nights of each month
■ at 8 o'clock. Visiting
companions invited.
Oscar Whitchard,
High Priest.
J. G. Standifer,
Secretary.