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The Honorable Unde Lancy
By ETHEL HUESTON
O Bobb»-M«nMI Ca. S»rvle«
CHAPTER IX—Continued
—ll—
like to wring Len Hardesty’s
fceck,” said Aunt Olympia. “This
is what I call a blow below the
belt.”
“Len Hardesty.” Adele looked
■uddenly sick. “Aunt Olympia—do
you think Len—did this—to my sis
ter?”
“Oh, naturally,” said Aunt Olym
pia philosophically. “That’s his busi
ness. But he never seemed to no
tice Helen—he never paid any atten
tion to her or what she was doing.
I didn’t suppose he even knew about
it. Those lousy newspaper men!
They know everything. Can’t keep
their minds on one girl—even a
beauty—got to be nosing into ev
erything!”
Adele stood up. She looked dazed.
**l told him,” she said faintly. “I
told him Sunday. I thought it was
—funny."
“You told him Sunday, Adele?
. . . Oh, that’s it, then! He cocked
up that speech and sicked the A.P.
onto us.”
“But Aunt Olympia—would he—
do that?" Adele stammered. And
• her face was so white and an
guished, her wide eyes had turned
to such midnight darkness, that
Aunt Oiympia’s heart went out to
her.
“It’s his job, my dear, and a job’s
• job.”
Hilda appeared in the door.
Mr. Hardesty, looking like the wrath
of God and if he didn’t sleep in
those clothes then I’m no laun
dress.”
Adele started swiftly for the side
door.
“Don’t go, my dear,” said the
Senator gently. “It’s always good
politics to hear both sides.”
Adele turned obediently and went
lo the window and stood with her
back to the room, to the door Len
Hardesty would enter, staring out
into the garden with eyes that saw
nothing. Helen and Limpy stood up,
rigid, white of face, as Len Har
desty came in. Aunt Olympia
poured herself a cup of coffee. The
Senator patted his lips with a nap
kin, despite the fact he had eaten
nothing.
“Hello, Len,” he said. “Bring
some hot coffee, Hilda. Sit down,
Len.”
“The wrath of God” well de
scribed him. He was pale. He had
not shaved. His eyes were black
and dark-circled. He glanced just
once at Adele’s slim back silhouet
ted against the windows.
“Well, there’s the devil to pay
now,” he said dejectedly.
“Well, pay himl” said Olympia
crisply. “You’ve got your fingers
on his purse-strings, haven’t you?”
“Oh, I’m paying and don’t think
I’m not,” he said doggedly. “Sen
ator. I—l give you my word, I nev
er anticipated this.”
“Was it a nightmare?” asked
Aunt Olympia.
“Oh, I know I should have real
ize)* 1 was stirring up a hornet’s
nest, but we’ve been in such a
damned hole over the whole mess—
J just thought it would be one more
jack-in-the-box from the bag of
tricks.”
“You wrote that speech, Len Har
desty, and don’t you dare to deny
It."
“I don’t deny it. And that’s all I
did do. I thought maybe it would
stir up a little local fuss and maybe
entice a few rabidly Americanistic
partisans, and God knows we need
them. I thought it would shut the
Senator up on subversive activities,
which the Governor doesn’t know a
tinker’s dam about.”
“If that’s all you did, how about
these papers?” demanded Aunt
Olympia.
“The dirty skunk! d’Allotti, I
mean. It suddenly dawned on him
that if he could drag you into it,
Senator, you’d get him out to clear
your own skirts. Use your pull with
the administration. He called the
newsmen after I left. A pal down
there tipped me off and I flew back
down. I’ve worked like a devil on
it but I couldn’t stop it.”
“You'd better have a drink, Len,”
said the Senator kindly, “You look
all in. Ring, Ollie.”
“Scotch and soda for me,” he said
briefly.
“You’d better have ham and eggs.
Bring him'some food, Hilda. After
all, we can’t starve snakes on our
very doorstep. It would give us a bad
press.”
“It’s not irreparable, even yet,
Senator," said Len Hardesty. “Now
if you had a good publicity man—
like me, for instance—’’
“He’s on his way out here, now,”
said the Senator. “Cece, too. We
“phoned him.”
“He’ll work out the details. And
if he’s good enough, he can even
make capital of it. Of course, he’ll
get you a nation-wide hook-up to
answer the charges. He will not
let you make any statements until
you have spoken straight to the na
tion. He will have you start off by
saying that from the beginning of
time it has been the practice of
cowards and curs to hide behind
the skirts of a woman—preferably,
a young and pretty woman.”
“Now, in the second place, after
holding him up to public scorn for
trying to ease out behind a petticoat,
you will adroitly mention that his
purpose is to get you to use your
influance to get him out oi the jam.”
"Get him out! I’d get him into the
electric chair, if I could!”
“Work that in, in your own suave
and diplomatic language. You will
bring out that he was received at
all the best houses in Washington,
and if you meet a man at the home
of the President or a cabinet mem
ber, you cannot very well ask if he
is a spy. You’ll use your record—
which is okay, for I’ve been comb
ing it myself. Of course, you can
prove that Helen didn’t show him
any papers because you never took
any home with vou and they were
locked up. This really should make
a sort of martyr out of you and win
you any number of votes. You know
voters.”
“But how about me?” asked Hel
en faintly. “What does it do to me,
Len?”
Len looked at her. Helen looked
more anguished, Aunt Olympia
thought, than she had at the funeral
so long ago.
“It’s a tough break, Helen,” he
said. “You’ve just got to keep your
head up and take it on the chin.
He’s using you as a cover-up and
everybody will know it. You didn’t
tell him anything, and stick to it.
You merely met him.”
“She couldn’t tell him anything
confidential,” said the Senator stout
ly. “For I never told her any
thing. Most of it was so technical
I didn’t really understand it myself.
I just believe we ought to have
strong defense; and anything they
said was for better defense, I was
in favor of.”
“Helen,” said Len, diffidently, “do
you mind—telling us about—the map
you gave him?”
“Map! I never gave him a map!”
“She couldn't! I haven’t got a map
myself.”
“He says you gave him a map
of our national defenses.”
“She never had a map!”
“He couldn’t possibly mean that
relief map of the United States,
could he?—Don’t you remember,
Uncle Lancy? I asked you about
it. He brought the map to show
how vulnerable we are and I asked
you.”
“Was it your map, Helen?”
“No, he brought it. He marked
all our vulnerable points with a red
pencil. And I asked you, Uncle
Lancy, and you said the Mexican
border was defended, and the Atlan
tic seaboard had strings of defenses
all across the country and that all
the shipbuilding places were forti
fied, and Boston and Manhattan and
Washington. Don’t you remember?
I marked them with a blue pencil.”
“And you gave him the map?”
“No. After we had it marked, he
rolled it up to take along and I
said I wanted it to send—as a sort
of souvenir. I kept it.”
“Have you got it?”
“Yes. It’s up in my desk.”
“Will you get it?”
“Yes, of course.”
Aunt Olympia turned to Limpy.
“Do you feel better, darling? Do
you want an aspirin?”
“No. I just want a good sharp
stiletto with a poisoned point. Helen
is so—good—”
“Sow the wind and reap,the whirl
wind,” said Len moodily. “That’s
what I did.”
"Well, experience is a good
thing,” said the Senator sympathet
ically. “I know I’ve learned a lot
that way.”
“Here is the map,” said Helen.
“See, Uncle Lancy? Gabriel drew
the blue lines to show where we are
vulnerable. I didn’t know anything
about it myself and you told me
about defending the shipyards and
the cities and the harbors—”
The Senator examined the map
with two pairs of glasses. “Dear
me, Helen, you did a very bad job
of it,” he said reprovingly. “You
must have those forts 200 miles off.
And those submarine bases—tch,
tch, tch, tch!”
“I didn’t try to be accurate,” said
Helen. “I didn’t know enough, in
the first place. We weren’t being
technical about it. But when he was
criticizing our unpreparedness, I
just boastfully drew red lines around
every city I could think of.”
"Is anything of secret nature in
dicated on this map?” asked Len.
“Lord, no,” said the Senator with
unwonted profanity. “There’s not
only nothing secret; there’s noth
ing right. I’m afraid I didn’t make
myself very clear, Helen.”
“Yes, you did, Uncle Lancy; but
you weren’t trying to be explicit and
I didn’t think it made any difference
whether I put the red marks north
or south, or even if I missed the
town entirely; we were laughing;
it was just a joke—then!” she add
ed pathetically.
"You can give photostatic copies
of this map to the press," suggested
Len Hardesty. “Not till after your
speech. That’s the highlight. And
rest assured, the nation’ll be on the
air, from White House down to white
wings . . . It’s more easily repara
ble for you—than for me,” he said
with another glance at Adele’s sil
houette before the window. “Well,
I’ll be getting along, Senator. I’m
sorry. We’re reduced to snatching
at straws; I thought this was a
straw and snatched at it; I didn’t
realize it was tied to dynamite.”
The Senator held out his hand.
“Good-by, Len. It was a bad break.
You look thin. Doesn’t Brother Wil
kie see that you get your three
square# a day?”
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY, GEORGIA
“You look terrible,” said Aunt
Olympia cheerfully.
“You're a couple of swell sports,”
he said moodily. “You’ve ruined the
whole campaign for me. Remem
ber how I used to love campaigns?
Not any more!”
CHAPTER X
It seemed to Aunt Olympia that
she had been called upon that day
to endure more than could reason
ably be expected even of a Presi
dent’s wife. But the day was not
over. She had no more than seen
them all comfortably relaxed and
settled down when Dave Cooper ar
rived with Cecil Dodd. Dave looked
disconcerted, almost disheveled. Be
fore he could say a word, Cecil
Dodd crossed debonairely to Lim
py’s chair, smiling, and said,
“Hello, Limpyl I brought you a
present!”
Aunt Olympia’s backbone stiffened
starchily.
“A present for me, Cece? How
nice!” said Limpy.
“Limpy’s too young to be receiv
ing presents,” interrupted Aunt
Olympia. “She’s not of age yet.”
“She’s not too young to be receiv
ing this,” said Cecil Dodd. “This is
a political present. Any Slopshire
for-Senator fan can receive political
presents. Look, Limpy. It’s a little
Slopshire pin. I had it made to
order.”
“Let me see that pin I” said Olym
pia angrily. “What does it say on
there? That doesn’t look like Vote
for-Slopshire to me I”
“Oh, there wasn’t room for all
that!” explained Cecil Dodd. “I had
to cut it down to Slopshire, or it
“Was it your map, Helen?”
wouldn’t go on. And I didn’t think
enamel would look good on plati
num, so I just had it engraved.”
“Look at this, Del,” said Olym
pia. “If those are diamonds around
the edge of it, Limpy can’t have it
till I pry them out.”
“Aw, Uncle Lancyl” wailed Lim
py-
The Senator put on his glasses.
“They don’t look like diamonds to
me,” he said firmly.
“They’re brilliants,” said Cecil
hastily.
“Certainly,” said the Senator. “I
could see that. And if they are
diamonds, they’re only chip dia
monds. Cece says they’re bril
liants.”
“Well, what’s a diamond but a bril
liant?” demanded Aunt Olympia.
“Rhinestones are brilliants,” said
Adele helpfully.
“Sure! Brilliant rhinestones I” cor
roborated Cecil Dodd.
“Del Slopshire—”
“Uncle Lancyl” from Limpy.
"I feel very much honored to have
little Limpy flashing through the
campaign in a Slopshire pin,” said
the Senator determinedly.
“Sure! Let me pin it on your
shoulder, Limpyl”
Before the rapt eyes of the rest of
the family, the outraged ones of
Aunt Olympia, with Limpy smiling
pleased approval, Cecil Dodd deftly
attached the tiny pin to the shoul
der of her frock and smiled down
into her face.
“Lord, it’s been lonesome,” he
said devoutly. “I thought we’d nev
er get back.”
“Lonesome!” boomed Aunt Olym
pia irritably. “Lonesome in the
thick of a political campaign? Lone
some while the Senator is being ac
cused of high treason and likely to
be knifed at the polls if not strung
from a gibbet? Of all times and
places to be lonesome, that beats
anything I ever heard!”
“I hope you didn’t have a good
time while I was gone,” said Cecil.
Limpy was slightly disconcerted.
“A good time? Oh—l can’t remem
ber exactly what we did ... I
know we had a lot of trouble . . .
No, we didn’t have a good time at
all, Cece.”
“Put him work,” said Olympia,
waving the Senator to take him
away. “And if he’s got money to
go around buying platinum pins and
—brilliants—we can cut down on our
expenses by reducing his salary.”
The Senator had no trouble tak
ing care of the spy challenge. Thera
was no one, either Democrat or Re
publican, who could seriously push
the charge, for Gabriel d’Allotti had
been received everywhere. The Sen
ator did not stop with citing his rec
ord, virtually from the cradle to the
trailer of ’3B, with documentary evi
dence to support his claims. He
went further. He demanded a com
plete, inquisitorial investigation of
the entire case, and wrote the De
partment of Justice offering himself
to be a witness, along with every
other member of his household from
Hilda up.
The Opposition was obliged to drop
the issue, but their fingers were al
ready slightly burned. As for Hel
en, there was no more pleasure in
the campaign for her. She had be
come terrified of the whole business.
She wrote frantically to Brick im
ploring him to withdraw from the
rotten mess before it was too late.
And she was not greatly reassured
by his loyal declaration that she
had nothing to fear: they didn’t play
politics that way in lowa.
The campaign was spoiled for
Adele, too. She wrote Len Har
desty a brief note.
“I can’t see you or speak to you
again, Len, until it is all over. I
try not to think of you, but that is
too hard. When it is over, if you
feel the same, we will try to talk it
through and see where we stand.
But I simply can’t see you. I
couldn’t draw a free breath in your
presence until Uncle Lancy has ei
ther won or been defeated.”
Aunt Olympia remonstrated with
her, reminding her that this was
Len’s job and he had to do the best
he could; reminded her, too, that his
contract with the Governor would
be up this year, and the Senator
could use him in ’44. Adele was
gently obdurate.
Len wrote to her and she read the
letters again and again, and kept
them, but she made no answer.
When he saw any member of the
household, or when he called over
the telephone to get news of them,
he had one invariable message for
Adele:
“Tell her it’s nearly ovev, and I
feel the same.”
When the message was passed on
to Adele, tears came to her eyes
and she got up and left tb» room.
But she did not weaken.
Aunt Olympia was none too hap
py, either. She couldn’t turn her
usual robust enthusiasm into the
campaign because she had to watch
Limpy; rather, she had to watch
Cecil Dodd. It seemed to her as a
simple act of loyalty he might have
postponed his admiration until after
the election. She even suspected,
bitterly, that he was working for the
Opposition; it would be like Len
Hardesty to bribe him to do this
just to get her mind off the cam
paign.
“Do you like that creature, Lim
py?” she asked hopefully.
“Oh, sure, I like him. He’s all
right. Yes, I like him.”
“I mean, do you like him better
than anybody else?” persisted Aunt
Olympia.
“Oh, no, of course not! I like Hel
en and Adele and you and Uncle
Lancy best; and I like our grocery
man back home and I’ll like Len
Hardesty again as soon as Adele
gets over being mad at him. I
like Dave and Martin and Hilda and
I don’t really mind Brother Wilkie,
though I don’t care much for the
brats.”
The girls teased Limpy, who, aft
er the first flush of confusion, i nther
enjoyed it.
“I can’t understand why you
should be surprised,” she said lofti
ly. “I had admirers at home, didn’t
I? Who got Carl Walker to sing in
the choir—best tenor we ever had?
You’d think I was some beldame
hobbling around on a tin trumpet.”
When Aunt Olympia couldn’t stand
it another minute she asked the
girls confidentially to drop the sub
ject. “For Limpy’s own good,” she
assured them. “I don’t want her to
get her mind set on him.”
“She’s used to being teased,”
the girls told her. "We all are.
Teasing doesn’t mean a thing to us.”
“But if we keep dangling him be
fore her eyes she may get to think
ing of him,” pleaded Aunt Olympia.
“Besides, it upsets me. If we don’t
get rid of that button I’m apt to go
straight to the polls and vote for
Brother Wilkie.”
The girls considerately dropped
the subject. But there was no drop
ping Cecil Dodd. As the campaign
grew hotter, it was inevitable that
he should be with them almost con
stantly. And even when Aunt Olym
pia did connive to send him off on
quite distant missions, he returned
so soon—with favorable reports of
his activities—that Aunt Olympia
swore he had just hidden behind a
tree for five or ten minutes.
During September there, was a
succession of deluging rains, but the
campaign had to go on. She bought
raincoats with matching umbrellas
and galoshes for the girls and mada
them drink hot lemonade every
night. Even in raincoats, they pho
tographed well. She bought aspirin
for the Senator—who believed in it
—by the dozen boxes.
When at last it appeared that the
sun was to shine again they took
the trail back to Shires, to get their
clothes and bedding thoroughly dried
out and laundered.
“There’s no place like home to
dry out,” she remarked contentedly,
“Did you say dry out or dry up?”
asked Limpy.
Aunt Olympia laughed good-natur
edly. “No hope of drying up till tin
election,” she said. “We’ra luekr
even to get dried out.”
(TO BE COHTINVEIU
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Love of a Good Man
In the love of a brave and faith
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Good Only Important
Happiness is the gift of seeing
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Ungracious Rebuke
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