Newspaper Page Text
THURSDAY. MARCH 29. 1945
°SS
GEORGE F. WORTS
WNU Release.
NICHOLSON
Miss Gladys Massey was visiting
in Atlanta over the week-end with
Mrs. Herman Smith.
Rev. Ballard Wilson, Athens,
preached here at the Methodist
Church Sunday morning and eve
ning.
Prof. J. P. Maddox was in Atlanta
during the past week, the guest of
friends.
Miss Julia Mae Warwick, Cleve
land, was visiting here over the
week-end with friends.
Mr. and Mrs. John Thomas and
son, Athens, were among the visit
ors here Sunday.
Misses Marie and Jessie Lou
Black, Hull, were guests of friends
here last Sunday.
Fred Loggins aed family were vis
iting at Greensboro last Sunday,
guests of friends.
Odell Howington and family, Toc
coa, were among the week-end
guests of relatives here.
Pvt. Walter Howington of the U.
S. Army, Camp Blanding, Fla., vis
ited relatives here Sunday.
Lester Brock of Charlotte, N. C.,
is visiting here, guest of relatives
and friends.
G. W. Wilson and family, Toccoa,
were visiting here with relatives
over the week-end.
Pvt. Edward Pope of the U. S.
Army, Camp Blanding, Fla., visited
relatives here Sunday.
Mrs. Asa G. Dorsey and children,
Cleveland, were week-end guests of
relatives here.
W. C. Brock and family, Experi
ment, were week-end guests of rela
tives and friends here.
Rev. C. L. Chitwood and grand
son, Frank Chitwood, Athens, vis
ited friends here Sunday.
Pvt. George Palmer of the U. S.
Army, Camp Blanding, Fla., visited
relatives here Sunday.
Miss Margaret McElhannon, At
lanta, was visiting here over the
week-end with relatives.
J. M. Arnold and family, Greens
boro, were guests of friends here
last Sunday morning.
Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Smith, Union
Point, were among the guests of
relatives here Sunday.
Rev. Clark Sorrow, Social Circle,
will preach at the Fire Baptized
Holiness Church Sunday.
T. G. Johnson and little son, At
lanta, were visiting here over the
week-end with relatives.
Rev. Asa G. Dorsey, Cleveland,
preached at the Congregational
Holiness Church over the week-end.
Mr. and Mrs. C. H. Smith, Winter
ville, were visiting here during this
week with relatives.
Rev. Hugh Eberhardt, Athens,
will preach here at the Baptist
Church next Sunday morning.
Pvt. Clifford Palmer of the U. S.
Army, Camp Meade, Maryland, was
with relatives.
Griffin Barnett, Phillip Kesler,
Frank Archer were week-end guests
of relatives in Jacksonville, Fla.
Friends regret to note the illness
of Clarence Pittman in an Athens
hospital, and wish him a speedy re
covery.
Thomas Howington, who is serv
ing overseas in the U. S. Army, has
been commissioned Staff Sergeant.
Carolyn, the infant of Mr. and
Mrs. B. T. Carithers, is ill with
pneumonia in an Athens hospital.
Friends wish her a speedy recovery.
Pvt. Millard C. Hardman has re
turned to camp after a 19-day fur
lough here with his wife and little
daughter. He has been awarded
five medals in consideration of be
ing an expert on his MI rifle. He
solicits the prayers of all Christians.
SHE ALSO SERVES
Before the war Mrs. J. J. Jones,
a Marshall, Ark., housewife, spent
her time running her modern farm
home. Since then Mrs. Jones, who
was born in the Philippines, has
used her homemaking skills to raise
money for the American Red Cross.
In all she has turned over to the
Red Cross nearly SI,OOO, raised from
the sale to her neighbors of home
made popcorn balls, cakes, bed
quilts and other products.
CHAPTER Xn
It was the first time that she had
exchanged more than a few worda
with any of them since the night on*
of them had thrown her off the “Sa
moa’s” stern. / •
She became aware that all of them
were under a strain. Mr. Lanning
drank his cocktails as fast as Steve
would make them for him. By the
time dinner was announced, he must
have had seven or eight. Amber was
nervous. Once, when she lit a ciga
rette, Zorie saw her hands shaking.
Something, Zorie guessed, was in
the wind, and only Paul was un
aware of it. He was aware only of
her. Whenever she glanced at him,
he was looking at her with that puz
zled expression in his eyes. He
did not drink at all. When she had
her second cocktail, she glanced at
him. The old familiar expression of
stern disapproval was about his
mouth.
Why, Zorie wondered, did he dis
approve of everything that was real
ly fun? She suddenly felt hopeless
about Paul. She wondered if they
could ever work things out. She
saw Paul suddenly as one of the un
fortunates he was always talking
about—the maladjusted people, the
problem children grown up.
Eight of the admiral’s guests were
attractive couples from various
parts of the island. The ninth to
arrive was a big man with iron
gray hair and a square ruddy face.
His name, Basil Stromberg, meant
nothing to Zorie at first. Then she
recalled the fragment of conversa
tion she* had overheard between
Steve and the admiral in the garden
that morning, with Steve saying, “I
don’t care a damn who comes —as
long as you get Basil Stromberg.”
Why? Did it have anything to do
with the Lannings and Pierre and
the “dangerous game” he had men
tioned? It was obvious that Amber,
her uncle and Pierre did not know
Mr. Stromberg—had never seen him
before. Yet she was aware of an
increase in the tension she had
sensed in Steve. He betrayed it by
seeming to become more calm. His
voice became deeper and he spoke
more lazily than usual.
She watched Mr. Stromberg alert
ly. He was a bigger man than
Steve, fully two inches taller and
much heavier in the shoulders. He
was very much at ease. He had a
habit of inclining his head and bend
ing down a little, with an attractive
smile, when someone was talking to
him. With his large, square head,
his iron-gray hair, his steel-blue
eyes, his dark face, he had an air
of power and importance.
Zorie sat down beside Paul and
asked him who Stromberg was.
“He’s the manager of one of the big
gest plantations on the island. I sup
pose he’s just another Nazi, although
I never suspected it before.”
“Why?”
Paul shrugged. “Well, Steve
seems to prefer Nazis. It looks to
me as if he’s turning Uluwehi into a
Nazi hotbed.”
“Are these other people Nazis?”
“I don’t know. I’m a stranger
here myself. Basil is an American
citizen. He was born on Kauai—of
German parents. He was educated
in Germany and he spends long va
cations there. I believe he’s been
there quite recently. Shall I ask
him?”
“Paul—please!”
“But you asked a question and,
with me, the inquiry of a beautiful
lacfy is a ringing command.”
Zorie realized that Paul was furi
ous about something, and suppress
ing it only with an effort. She had
looked forward to this dinner party,
to pretending she was the princess
of Uluwehi; but now that it was
here, she was miserable. Paul’s dis
approval and the tension she sensed
in Steve were spoiling everything.
It was a pity, because it might
have been a delightful dinner party.
Dinner was served by four pretty
Japanese girls who wore beautiful
kimonas and obis and resembled
Japanese dolls. She watched them
curiously and observed how mask
like their young Oriental faces were.
Paul'had said if she knew what
these young Japanese were thinking
these days, she would run for her
life. It was hard to believe.
There were flowers in the center of
the long koa table that made it diffi
cult for her to see Paul. She could
see all of Steve’s face. He was be
ing amusing and charming, but he
wasn’t fooling Zorie. Something was
happening under the surface and he
was taking the most elaborate pains
to prove that nothing was happen
ing.
Now and then she glanced at Win
throp Lanning and at Mr. Strom
berg. She was sure that Mr. Lan
ning, too, was under a great strain;
although he was being suave and
witty, his eyes betrayed him. Sev
eral times Zorie saw the grayish
skin immediately under them quiv
ering.
Occasionally she became aware of
Amber, who faced Pierre. He was
eating roast beef just as Zorie had
seen him eat beefsteak one morning
at breakfast on the “Samoa”—with
a gusto that was appalling.
Zorie saw the expression in Am
ber’s eyes as Amber watched him.
It was stronger than scorn. It was a
mixture of hatred and sheer loathing.
When dinner was over, they re
turned to the lanai under the big
banyan tree for coffee and brandy.
Zorie sat down beside the admiral.
When they had finished coffee, Paul
said: “Shall we take a little stroll?
We won’t be missed.” c
He was furious about something.
His eyes had that familiar narrow
ness and his mouth its well-known
thinness. He disapproved of the
star-sapphire dress. Doubtless, he
disapproved of other things, too. She
wondered, in a little flurry of panic,
just what she’d done to make him
so angry. O
She hoped he wouldn’t be too
harsh with her.
They had taken hardly a dozen
steps when he pulled his arm away.
He was taking her toward the iron
wood arbor on the beach.
“What—what is it, Paul?” Zorie
asked.
“I want to have a talk with you,”
Paul answered. “But not just yet.
I want to think a little.”
When they reached the arbor, Zor
ie’s eyes were growing used to the
starlight. She found a bench and
sat down. It was the same bench on
which she had sat that morning to
wrestle with her problem.
Paul did not sit down. He stood
near her, with his hands in his coat
pockets. From that characteristic
posture, with one shoulder down a
little, she knew what to expect, and
she wondered if he took that stance
when he was addressing his classes.
“Zorie,” he said, “this evening
has shown me exactly what I’ll be
up against when we’re married. I’ve
been watching you and studying you
all through dinner —analyzing you as
I’ve never bothered to analyze you
before. I’ve had the pleasure of
watching you—the girl I’m going to
marry day after tomorrow—staring
continuously at another man, with
such adoration, such worship that it
nauseated me to watch it.”
Her sense of fear suddenly de
parted. With it went all of her old
feeling of meekness.
Zorie got up. “Paul,” she said
softly, “I think you’d better stop. I
Zorie saw dim figures in the star
lit darkness beyond the hedge.
think you don’t quite realize what
you’re saying. I think you had bet
ter be awfully careful, Paul.”
“I know what I’m saying,” Paul
said harshly. “I’m saying that
you’re nothing but a natural-born
cheat! It was written all over your
face! You were goofy-eyed! You
were ga-ga! You sat there, just
drooling over that brother of mine!”
“Paul—”
“Let me finish,” he snapped.
“Paul, I’m warning you. I won’t
let you or any other man say such
things about me.”
“You’ll let me say what I have to
say,” Paul replied.
Zorie sat down again. He con
tinued in the same strain. Her
shameless adoration of Steve.
“Look at those flowers in your
hair! Ever since he put some white
ginger flowers in your hair, you’ve
been wearing them like a holy sym
bol! Steve the great, Steve the won
derful puts ginger flowers in your
hair and you melt. You go blah!”
It was, she supposed, inevitable.
Out of him was gushing the bitter
ness that he had kept dammed up
since that morning of their discus
sion on deck. She realized the truth
—Paul could not take it. He had
cracked under the strain he had im
posed on himself. His solicitude had
been a pretense, his ardor a sham.
He did not, she realized, love her.
Not at this moment. In the morn
ing he might, but not now. He hat
ed her for revolting against his Vic
torianism. He hated her because
she had refused to be disciplined
and dominated. It was really as
simple as that.
“I can’t go through with it,” Paul
said. “I want to be released from
our engagement.”
Any other time, Paul’s outburst
might have been justified—a little
justified, although nothing she had
ever dqne, except in her innermost
thoughts, could have justified this.
“I understand,” she said gently.
In spite of the ugly things he had
said, she was sorry for Paul. To
morrow, if she knew Paul, he would
humble himself, would plead for her
forgiveness. Yet, even Tomorrow,
he might realize that things, after
this, could never be patched up. She
hoped he would. She hoped this
was the end.
“You’re free,” Paul said waspish
ly. “You’re free to do whatever you
wish, to marry anybody you please.”
To marry anybody she pleased!
That, in his mind, meant Steve. As
if she had merely to mention to
Steve that she was now free to be
his—and he would clasp her in his
arms, to have and to hold, forever!
Perhaps, in one sense, Paul was
right. Certainly, a large part of
Steve’s attraction was physical. She
could not recall ever being attracted
so strongly to Paul.
Anyway, she would not have to
marry Paul. She had escaped!
Zorie was aware of a sense of
soaring relief.
“I understand, Paul,” she said
quietly. “Everything’s finished. Per
haps it’s best. I think we’d better
go back now.” 1
“Ah, yes—back to your lovely
Nazis!”
Halfway to the blacked-out lanai,
Zorie heard men’s voices. They
came from the other side of a high
box hedge that she and Paul were
abfiut to pass.
Paul seized her wrist. He whis
pered: “Keep quiet!”
He pulled her close to the hedge.
Zorie saw several dim figures in
the starlit darkness beyond the
hedge. Then she heard Steve’s voice.
“This war is apt to ruin every
thing,” he said. His voice sounded
thin. It sounded nervous. “There’s
very apt to be trouble. I’ve spent
most of the day at Kokee, looking
the ground over. The only favor
able factor is that they’re working
with only a skeleton crew. They’ll
be reinforced in a day or two. If
we’re, to get in there, it will cer
tainly have to be tonight.”
Steve’s voice hesitated. Zorie tried
to see his face, but she could not.
“Briefly, the setup is easier than
I expected,” he went on. “JY-419
is there. It’s being used every day,
but not at night. They’re using the
old hookup for night-time listening.”
Steve paused again. “I’ve learned
one thing of vital importance. It
will detect a plane more than fifteen
hundred miles away. That’s five
hundred miles better than I was told
in Madrid.”
“Why,” another voice interrupted,
“didn’t it detect the bombers that
came over Pearl Harbor last Sun
day?” The voice was so strained
that Zorie identified it, with diffi
culty, as Winthrop Lanning’s.
“How can you expect me to have
the answer to that question?” Steve
answered. “The old hookup would
have detected them. The carrier
could not have been more than two
hundred miles offshore. Why didn’t
the Oahu listening stations report
them in time?”
“What is this trouble you men
tioned?”
“It has nothing to do with getting
JY-419 out of the listening post,”
Steve answered. “JY-419 is in one
compact sheet-steel cabinet that
weighs, at a guess, between eighty
and one hundred pounds. It is being
kept in a small building some dis
tance from the regular equipment.
There’s only a small plain padlock
on the door.”
The pressure of Paul’s grasp in
creased on Zorie’s wrist. He had
no doubt felt the tremor that had
gone through her. She was begin
ning to realize fully what this meant.
So this was Steve’s “very danger
ous game”—plotting with these sly,
sinister people to rob his own coun
try of a secret and valuable plane
detecting device!
All the ugly things Paul had told
her about Steve, together with all
the ugly things of which she herself
suspected him, were in his voice
now.
“We can break that padlock and
carry the cabinet out.”
“Wait a minute,” another voice
interrupted, and Zorie recognized it,
with its softness, as Pierre’s. “How
do we get it out of that listening
post? Won’t those sentries be shoot
ing at shadows?”
“Probably,” Steve answered. “It
will be dangerous and difficult, but
it isn’t impossible. The shed in
which JY-419 is locked up is within
fifty feet of the edge of the Kalalau
Lookout. I m.ean—the edge of the
canyon. The sentry at that post
won’t expect anyone to come up
over that edge.”
“But is it humanly possible?” Pi
erre broke in.
“Yes. There’s an old goat trail,
now overgrown with vegetation, that
I used as a boy. Don’t forget I
know every inch of that country. We
can slip in and out past the sentry.”
“How?” Pierre asked dubiously.
“It has been raining in the moun
tains for two days and nights. It
was raining steadily up there all
day. Don’t forget that this is our
rainy season. We can safely count
on rain tonight.”
“But if it isn’t raining?” Mr. Lan
ning asked.
“Then we will overpower the sen
try.”
“That is very, very risky!”
“The whole job is risky,” Steve
said impatiently. “It always has
been. The fact that the war is on
doubles the risk. But that is not my
worry, Winthrop. With these blue
headlights and with occasional halts
by the Provisional Police, it will take
an hour to drive as far as we can
safely go. It will take us fully three
hours to follow that old trail to the
listening post, to get in, secure JY
-419 and to get back to the car. That
will bring the time to three o’clock,
if we leave here at eleven. They
will discover that JY-419 is gone
by six at the latest. The navy will
tear this island apart looking for it.
Don’t forget that this island is under
martial law and that JY-419 is as
vital a war secret as the famous
bombsight.’i
“I won’t,” Mr. Lanning said dry
ly-
“l’m certain that we can get in
there and get out with it,” Steve
continued. “But what will we do
with it? It is very much like a play
in a football game. We will have
tne ball, but we won’t dare keep it.
We must pass it as quickly as we
can into safer, stronger hands.”
THE JACKSON HERALD JEFFERSON, GEORGIA
AMERICAN MARINES
PAY HEAVY FOR IWO
U. S. PACIFIC FLEET HEAD
QUARTERS, Guam.—The Navy an
nounced Friday that 4,189 Ameri
can Marines had been killed in the
conquest of Iwo Jima, strategic Jap
anese island within 750 miles of
Tokyo, and that the battle for Iwo
“has been won.”
It added that 15,308 Marines had
been wounded and 441 are missing,
making a total of 19,938 casualties
sustained by three Marine divisions
in seizing the island.
“Avery considerable number,”
of the wounded already have re
turned to action, the press release
said.
Iwo was invaded February 19 by
the Fourth and Fifth Marine Di
visions, which were joined a few
days later by the Third Marine Di
vision.
Admiral Chester W. Nimitz said
Friday that the bloody battle, cost
liest invasion in the Pacific War,
had been won, and asserted the Ma
rines fought “with certain knowl-
ALONE
This poem was sent from Pfc.
Bernice J. Langford, who is some
where in Luxembourg, to his
father and mother, Mr. and Mrs.
W. T. Langford.
Alone in the day, in the night,
But what can I say—what can I
write?
I tell you I love you, and pray for
you too.
But when the night comes I’m very
blue.
I think of you, out there—in fox
hole or tent,
'Tis then, that this poor heart goes
withered and bent.
Then the scene changes, we’re back
as before,
Happy and gay, no fears of war.
Free from these cares that now
trouble the mind,
Free from hardships, the heart
breaking kind.
Pray for forgivness, pray for the
end..
O God, give us strength and cour
age ’till then.
TAX NOTICE
HAVE YOU MADE YOUR TAX RETURN
FOR 1945 AND APPLIED FOR HOMESTEAD
AND PERSONAL EXEMPTION? DON'T
WAIT UNTIL IT IS TOO LATE. I WON’T
BE ABLE TO GET AROUND TO SEE EV
ERYBODY AS I HAVE IN THE PAST BE
CAUSE OF THE TIRE AND GAS CONDI
TION.
WHEN YOU ARE IN JEFFERSON CALL BY
THE OFFICE AND FILE YOUR TAX RE
TURN. THIS OFFICE IS OPEN 6 DAYS IN
THE WEEK.
THERE IS NO POLL TAX FOR 1945 AND
YOU ARE EXEMPT FOR HOUSEHOLD
FURNITURE, COWS AND STOCK UP TO
S3OO IF YOU APPLY.
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE
SO I CAN ARRANGE IT FOR YOU. I WILL
VISIT EACH PLACE OF BUSINESS IN THE
COUNTY AND THOSE WHO ARE NOT
ABLE TO COME TO MY OFFICE.
THE TIME IS PASSING, SO DON’T
NEGLECT ATTENDING TO IT!
YOURS TO SERVE,
A. 0. HOOD
TAX RECEIVER, JACKSON COUNTY
edge of the cost of an objective
which had to be taken.”
Jefferson Insurance Agency,
General Insurance,
Jefferson, Georgia.
Beware Coughs
. from common colds
That Hang On
Creomulsion relieves promptly be
cause it goes right to the seat of the
trouble to help loosen and expel germ
laden phlegm, and aid nature to soothe
and heal raw, tender inflamed bronchial
mucous membranes. Tell your druggist
to sell you a bottle of Creomulsion \rith
the understanding you must like the
way it quickly allays the cough or you
are to have your money back. ®
CREOMULSION
For’Coughs, Chest Colds, Bronchitis
<!ps§S
12:15 pM - JlllSft
MONDAY
FRIDAY
THE BEST SHOWS
EACH DAY are on
WAGA
ATLANTA
590 ON o.r
INVEST IN WAR BONDS!
—READ THE WANT ADS—