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kgL Hidden Wavs jg
FREDERIC F. VAN DE WATEJ* ®”n a o.ve^ci
SYNOPSIS
StmrM Mallory, In searcn of newspaper
%rork ta Mew York, is forced to accept a
»*» as awltch-board operator In a swank
apartment house, managed by officious Tim
•Ow Higgins, There David meets Miss
JSeadha Paget, a crippled did lady, and her
■harming niece, Aiiegra.
CHAPTER I—Continued
— 2—
“On* minute," Miss Agatha com
tnanded. “I should really like to
know how you ran across Kenneth
Gr shame.”
Again I heard the elevator bell.
“In books, Miss Paget.” She
marked the broad servility in my
wchce and the wrinkles about her
alert eyes deepened.
“Then what," she asked, "are you
doing in a job like this?”
“At present I’m keeping the ele
vator waiting. Excuse me."
The bell was silent when I reached
the water hall. I took the car down.
Eddie Hoyt was back. He frowned
as I stepped from the elevator.
“Fella," he said, "when you take
Chat thing up you’re supposed to
kring it back again. Miss Ferriter
kad to walk up!"
“Eddie,” I said, "I’ve been rid
den plenty.”
“Bad as that?” he asked.
“Worse,” I told him, “and listen:
tt that blood-sweating behemoth in
the circus suit inspired your crack,
ask turn from me why he had the
car skied for a half-hour while you
.were out.”
“Oh ho,” said Eddie.
""Oh ho, what?” I asked. He
drugged.
“Just oh ho. You called at the
Sphere again, Dave?”
“I did. This morning. Once the
answer was, ‘No opening at the min
ate.’ Now it’s just, ‘No opening.’ ”
“Tough," he sympathized. “Why
don’t you ditch it and go home?
This ain’t your sort of work, Dave.”
“You’re telling me,” I replied.
“I'll starve first, Eddie. And that
may not be so far off either. Hig
stm is on the prod.”
“Easy,” Hoyt muttered and, as
die signal buzzed, retired to the
jwritdiboard. Higgins, still in his
Borrowed plumage, came lurching
ks from the sidewalk. The coals of
•ariicr wrath smoldered in his little
*yrs, and I felt my own anger re
wc as he paused before me.
“Matlory,” he grumbled, "I want
to talk to you.”
1 thought of my job and of the odd
expression on the face of the girl,
Allegra, when I had talked back to
Kiss Agatha and, though common
■ease muttered unheeded warning,
1 said: "Shoot.”
My flippancy stung him.
“What I want to know,” he said
keavily, "is what you meant by that
crack about ‘doubling in brass.’ ”
“tSimple,” I told him. "A joke.”
1 pointed at the gilt trappings of
'She doorman’s coat.
“Brass,” I said. “Superintendent
wiasqucrading as doorman. There
fore doubling in brass. Begin to
gel it?”
Higgins looked dubious and then
tosulted.
“The trouble with you, me lad, is
Shat you think you’re too bloody
good for your job. I’m—”
From the switchboard’s alcove,
Moyl called:
“Hey, Mr. Higgins, Ferriters’ line
anrust be on the blink. They’ve left
toe receiver off or something."
“TU tend to that presently,” Hig
gins informed him. “What I want
to tell you, Mallory, is—”
“iley,” Hoyt said tensely, “Hear
«?”
Above someone screamed and I
•aw the red fade from Higgins’
face. The sound ceased. It broke
•ut again, louder, shriller, ns though
feorror had abolished all self-control.
23 soared and fell and rose again
a siren gone mad. Higgins
crossed himself. Hoyt babbled from
■tthe switchboard with the receiver
•till clamped to his ear:
*Tl‘» up in Three B.”
CHAPTER II
Biggins’ rush thrust me aside. He
dammed the door in my face as I
reached the elevator. I ran for the
stairs and took them three at a time
toward the screeching that tore the
pious silence of the Morello to tat
too. I reached the third floor ahead
the ancient car.
Before the closed door of the Fer
riter apartment, Allegra seemed to
wrestle with Miss Ferriter. Nearer
»c, in the hall, someone in a maid’s
uniform hopped about, making silly
sounds, and on the threshold of the
Faget flat, a stout, older woman
wrung her hands and gaped. I heard
Aiiegra gasp as she tried to control
toe wrenching body:
‘Tone! What is it? Answer me.”
A new spasm shook lone Ferri
ter. She began again those long
drawn bursts of screaming and over
Aliegra’s shoulder I saw a white
lace, wide-mouthed, distorted, like a
Greek tragic mask.
Hoyt came toiling up the stairs be
mad me. Higgins blundered from
the elevator.
“Hey,” he bawled. "What’s all
Has—?”
Another shriek tore through his
query. I caught Miss Ferriter’s
•boulders and shook her. She
gasped. I shook her again.
“Stop it,” I bade. "Stop it, do
pan bear? What’s the matter?”
Beneath my hands, I felt her
Britvb and quake but the screaming
ceased. She made a feeble ges
ture toward the door,
"In there,” her whisper rapped.
"He’s—”
Her body gave way. It grew so
inertly heavy that Allegra and Hoyt
and I had trouble holding it. Over
the sagging head, I asked Higgins;
"Can you get a key?”
He nodded but still stood, gaping
and uncertain, till a competent voice
spoke from the Paget doorway.
"Allegra, Bertha, Edward,” it or
dered. "Pick her up. Lay her on
my bed, Allegra. Keep her head
down. Annie, take some cognac to
Miss Allegra.”
Miss Paget sat on her threshold in
a wheel chair. She trundled her
self into the hall to make way for
those who bore the senseless woman
and looked from Higgins to me. The
elevator bell shrilled frantically and
frightened voices called in the air
shaft.
"Just what,” Miss Paget asked
calmly, "was all this about?”
Higgins answered in a husky
voice, "Something’s wrong in
there,” and nodded to the reticent
door. There was an instant of si
lence. Then the old lady asked po
litely;
"What are you waiting for, Timo
thy? Or perhaps you two men would
rather have me look.”
The superintendent fumbled in his
uniform with a sickly grin. He
looked at me with less dislike than
he had shown all day.
"C’m on, Mallory,” he ordered,
and moved toward the door. He
"May I ask what you intend
to do now?”
unlocked it but stood aside for me
to enter.
The furniture sat in self-conscious,
orderly rectitude. There was a tro
phy of arms above the fireplace—
rapiers, claymores, sabers and less
familiar blades, which shone coldly
in the wintry light, and there was a
long couch beside the hearth.
"Everything’s oke,” Higgins said
more to himself than to me. “May
be she’s gone daffy; maybe she got
bad news or something. She could
of been stewed. Let’s look around
the rest of the place.”
“Hold on,” I told him.
"What?” he jerked.
"The phone,” I said. It stood on
a table between the couch and the
wall. The receiver hook was empty.
Something else was out of place.
A fringed lampshade lay on the floor
beyond the couch. I peered over
the sofa’s back into the space be
yond and saw the lamp’s overturned
standard and beside it—
I heard Higgins’ low moan. I felt
his breath come and go upon my
neck. I said:
"He’s been killed.”
"Who?” Higgins asked in a whis
per.
A man lay on his back beside
the fallen lamp. His head was tilt
ed so that his black beard pointed
upward like a charred stump at
the telephone receiver dangling from
the table. His hands were drawn
up as though he had tried to clutch
the lapels of his coat and the left
side of his vest was glistening and
sodden.
I answered, slowly, for my mouth
was sticky.
"I never saw him before.”
A low but steady sound came to
ward us. Higgins held his breath.
I tiptoed toward the door as Miss
Paget propelled herself into the
room. She looked at us with a pa
rental severity.
"Well?” she prompted. In relief
we babbled our discovery. I began,
but Higgins’ heavy speech beat mine
down and took command.
"Right over there. Miss Paget,”
he rattled. "Behind the couch where
nobody’d be likely to see him. If
you’ll roll forward just a little—”
The old lady’s calm voice sheared
through his babbling. "No doubt,”
she replied. "May I ask what you
intend to do now?”
Higgins stared.
"In such cases,” she told him,
"it is usually customary to notify
the police, I believe.”
The superintendent blundered to
ward the telephone, shrank back
from the presence of the concealed
body and, reaching across the couch
back, picked up the instrument.
He waited, impatiently rattling
the hook and then, with a grunt, set
down the telephone •
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL. PERRY, GEORGIA
“Nobody on the switchboard,” he
stuttered. “I’ll go down meself,”
and rushed from the room. Miss
Agatha called after him:
“Timothy. Be sure the door is
locked behind you.”
“Yes’m,” he replied and we heard
it slam. The old lady looked hard
at me as I moved toward the hall.
“It might be well,” I explained,
“to look through the rest of the
apartment.”
She shook her head. I have seen
few murders, even at my age, but
I understand it is best to do nothing
till the police come. Usually, there
after, they follow your example.”
She sat quite still in her chair
by the door and her eyes searched
slowly through all the room.
After a moment she asked, nod
ding toward the concealing couch:
“When did he come in?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I
never saw him.”
She leaned back in her chair, her
hands folded in her angular lap, her
eyes narrow with thought. She asked
at length:
“When did lone—Miss
come in?”
“I think It was she who rang the
bell while I was in your apartment.
She had to walk up.”
She appeared to turn this over in
her mind. The clock ticked loudly.
Miss Agatha emerged from what
ever inner communion she had held
and looked at me again.
“You heard her screaming. What
did you think of it?”
I did not answer for so long that
she shrugged at last and said:
“That was a silly question. For
get it.”
“No, it wasn’t,” I replied slowly.
“It’s just that I hadn’t thought of it
before. You mean there was some
thing more than fright in the
sound?”
“Do I?” she retorted.
I went on: “Well, I mean it then.
She was frightened by finding a man
dead on her floor. There was some
thing else. A deeper terror per
haps.”
Her gaze abashed me a little. I
grinned and shrugged.
“That’s probably all imagina
tion,” I told her. “Anyway, Miss
Ferriter is a gifted screamer. She
sounded like the Eumenides on the
wing.”
Her thin eyebrows arched. Again
I felt that she regarded me as a
curiosity and once more it irked
me.
“They were surprised”—l grinned
at that patrician, puzzled face—
“when I spoke to the waiter in
Greek.”
She started to reply and turned
her head sharply as the outer door
opened. Higgins and a hard-breath
ing patrolman entered the room.
“Over beyond the couch he lays,”
the superintendent informed the po
liceman with a discoverer’s pride.
The fear that had been a bond be
tween us was gone now. He stared
at me and growled:
“Go downstairs, Mallory. Miss
Paget, there’ll be nobody let in here
now till the Hommycide Squad
comes.”
Hoyt brought the car down and
came to lean against the switch
board with a shaky grin.
“Whew!” he said. “That girl do
it?”
I said “No,” prompted more by
a vestige of chivalry than knowl
edge. Hoyt glanced over his shoul
der at the loiterers in the foyer,
and strove to keep the secret that
for a few minutes made him their
superior. He mumbled:
“He had a black beard, eh? When
did he come in? We’d ’a’ spotted
him, wouldn’t we? A guy with a
beard, hey? When did he get in?
Tell me that.”
“I can’t,” I said. I was shaky
and I ached for another cigarette.
“Maybe he came in September and
hid till he grew it.”
“Aw,” said Hoyt and stared to
ward the front door. The police
man on duty there had admitted a
half-dozen men in civilian clothes
and then had barred the way to oth
ers who strove to follow.
The intruders tramped down tha
hall toward us, satchel-laden, indif
ferent and unspectacular as the
first half-dozen men off a suburban
train. A man with reddish gray
hair like embers and a stubborn
freckled face, paused and said to
Hoyt:
“Homicide Squad, Mac. Take us
up.”
Eddie obeyed. Lingering tenants,
when I evaded their questions, wan
dered back to their apartments.
Higgins emerged from his base
ment apartment. He had doffed Wil
son’s regalia, evidently on the the
ory that one uniform at the door
was all the house required. He
squinted about the foyejc and then
ambled over to the switchboard. His
breath was heavy with the fumes ol
a recent drink. I envied him.
Alcohol had softened him and
something less apparent worried
him. He bent confidentially toward
me.
“Listen, Mallory,” he said with
the glibness of rehearsal. “Maybe
I was a mite hasty a while ago.
We’ll let bygones be bygones. Lis
ten: They’ll be questionin’ all of
us. See? There’s none of us to ba
leavin’ the buildin’ till they’re
through. You do me a good turn,
now. I was upstairs when Miss Paget
came in. Sure I was. But I waa
on the roof, lookin’ at the wat«*
tank. It’s been leakin’. Will ye—**
' ITO BE CONTINUED)
■EI WHO’S
mm news
WEEK
By LEMUEL F. PARTON
(Consolidated Features—WNU Service.)
NEW YORK.—Close in, in the
critical diplomatic huddle at
Ankara is our John Van A. Mac-
Murray, ambassador to Turkey. A
, . veteran ca-
Our Ambassador reer diplo .
To Turkey Is a mat, Mr.
„ • r Mac Murray
Grim Fact Chaser might have
been a star reporter. He has a gim
let mind and is a diligent digger and
researcher. While our state depart
ment may not have much to say
about what happens in Turkey and
the Balkans, it will surely have the
record, when it all becomes history.
As minister to China, Mr.
Mac Murray studied the country
and its people so diligently that
his friends said he began to look
like a Chinese. There was the
matter of likin, or Chinese im
port taxes. No other western dip
lomat had worrried much about
them. Mr. Mac Murray com
pletely surrounded them.
He is the world’s greatest author
ity on the subject. When he left his
post in China after five years, he
had compiled two stupendous vol
umes on the general theme of
“Rights and Obligations of China
From 1894 to 1919.” These were
only small details of his encyclo
pedic roundup of knowledge of the
Far East. That being the case, they
shifted him. Which is a reminder
that this writer has a friend, a ca
reer diplomat, who learned Chinese
and amassed such information in
eight years in China, and was shift
ed to Geneva last year to be re
placed in Peking by a young man
starting from scratch.
With all his grim fact-chasing
Mr. Mac Murray has, like all
good diplomats, a touch of Dale
Carnegie about him—that is, he
makes friends and influences
people. He has a charming, in
genuous smile, when his adding
machine mind is out of gear,
and he has been happily placed
in the gold-lace maneuvers of
our diplomacy.
He was born in Schenectady in
1881, educated at Princeton and Co
lumbia and entered the diplomatic
service as secretary of the legation
in Siam in 1907. He became head
of the far eastern division and min
ister to China in 1925. In 1930 he
became minister to Estonia, Latvia,
and Lithuania, and minister to Tur
key in 1937. Many big issues of
international politics seem to have
gone the way of Chinese likin, and
of Estonia et al, but whatever they
are, or were, Mr. Mac Murray knows
about them.
*
\\7 HEN Capt. Henry Harwood
** defeated the Graf Spee pocket
battleship, off Montevideo last De
cember, the home office flashed a
‘Hadm. Arwood ’ message in
which he
May Yet Inspire learned he
Kiplingese Lines ™
miral. “Thank you, boys,” he wig
wagged to his three British cruisers,
as a sporting gesture in which he
gave credit where it was due. He
had had 37 years in the navy with
out a swing of the spotlight in his
direction. But the victory over the
Graf Spee started songs in the Drury
lane musical halls about “Hadmiral
Ennery Arwood”—a natural—and
now he’s almost the ruler of the
king’s navee because he took the
measure of the big Graf Spee. It
doesn’t quite scan, but he gets the
job as assistant chief of the naval
staff, and member of the board of
the admiralty.
It was as a lad of 14 that he
first climbed the rigging of the
old wooden training ship Britan
nica. He moved on up through
routine grades and in the World
war was a torpedo boat lieuten
ant. In the years between wars,
he was with the fleet in South
America, China and the Medi
terranean, known as a coura
geous and resourceful officer,
but never in the headlines or in
the British Who’s Who.
He is thickset, square-jawed and
ruddy of countenance, planted on the
bridge as though he had taken root
there and meant to stay. This war
hasn’t inspired any clanging, inspir
iting Kiplingesque lines, but Admiral
Harwood may yet touch them off.
Ashore he has spent much time in
staff training. He has two sons in
their early teens, who expect some
day to “climb the rigging like their
father used to do.”
*
ASA “man against death” Dr
James Ewing has been in the
trenches for years in the world war
against cancer. A medal is con
ferred by the New York City Cancer
committee for “outstanding work
during the year in the campaign tc
control cancer.”
He is director of the Memoria
Hospital for Cancer and Allied Dis
eases, a world leader in the batth
against the scourge of modert
times. He voices hope, but ruthles:
ly limits his conclusions to demo:
strable fact.
~ rw '~~ IMPROVED ”■
UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL
SUNDAY I
chool Lesson
By HAROLD L. LUNDQUIST, D. D.
Dean of The Moody Bible Institute
of Chicago.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Lesson for November 10
Lesson subjects and Scripture texts se
lected and copyrighted by International
Council of Religious Education; used by
permission.
THE GOLDEN RULE
LESSON TEXT—Luke 6:27-38.
GOLDEN TEXT—As ye would that men
should do unto you, do ye also to them
likewise.—Luke 6:31.
Hiding in a dark cellar will not
stop the sun from shining; it will
only deprive us of its warmth and
life-giving power. Likewise the fail
ure of mankind to receive and prac
tice the great principles of Christian
faith does not alter nor weaken
them, even though it does deprive
humanity of their blessing.
It may seem foolish to some to ob
serve an Armistice Sunday in the
midst of a world at war, to talk
about the golden rule in a selfish
world where men hate one another,
but the fact is that now is the time
to really proclaim the solution of God
for man’s problems. Then too, let
us remember that the failure of
mankind as a whole to receive the
truth of God does not hinder us from
receiving it as individuals. Our re
lationship to God is an individual
matter, even though we also belong
to a race or nation. Our lesson pre
sents
I. A Great Christian Principle (vv.
27-31).
The magnificent breadth of this
principle of Christian considera
tion has often been lost sight of in
argument over the detailed inter
pretation of verses 29 and 30. Sure
ly there is not in mind here any
casting to the winds of an intelligent
appraisal of the needs of those to
whom we give; nor is there any
thought of a self-glorifying turning
of another cheek in physical combat.
It does not teach that our nation
may not defend itself against those
who attack us. At the same time
we must note that it means much
more than most of us are willing to
read into its words.
What does it mean? It means that
in the spirit of Christian love we
will give of ourselves and our sub
stance in “large handed but thought
ful charity.” It means love for our
enemies—no small withholding even
from unreasonable people. It means
doing unto others what we would
have them do unto us. It “re
quires that we should sell to others
as we desire that others sell to us
. . . that we buy of others as we
desire others to buy of us . . . that
we talk about others behind their
backs as we desire that others
should talk about us . . . Are we
doing it?” (Dr. John W. Bradbury).
The Golden Rule is not the Gospel.
No one is saved by living according
to it; in fact, that is quite impos
sible apart from faith in Christ.
11. Its Divine Foundation (vv. 32-
35).
The so-called golden rules of men
lack the divine element of grace and
are all in the negative. Confucius
said, “Do not do to others what
you would not want them to do to
you.” Others spoke similarly, but
Jesus, building on the divine love
which does good to even the evil
and the unthankful (v. 35), gives a
positive admonition of gracious
consideration of others.
We are the children of the Most
High God (v. 35) and are to live
in accordance with His standards
and, what is of equal importance,
by His grace'and strength. Even
Christians are prone to live as their
neighbors live (vv. 32-34) until they
see how much better God’s way is,
and realize that He gives enabling
grace for a daily walk in that better
way.
111. Its Practice and Reward (vv.
36-38).
Jesus has already admonished His
followers to love and serve both
friend and foe. The manner in
which that is to be put into practice
is further developed by urging them
to be merciful, not setting them
selves up to judge the conduct of
others, but rather giving liberally to
them in a spirit of love. This does
not forbid judging on the part of
those whose official duty it is to
judge, nor does it set aside the exer
cise of sound judgment (Isa. 56:1
and I John 4:1), but it does forbid
unauthorized and unkind judgment.
“But will all this pay?” asks Dr.
Bradbury (in “The Gist of the Les
son”) and answers: “Indeed it will
. . , The measure that we use in
measuring out to others is the very
measure God will use in measuring
in to us. The reason many of us
get so small a blessing from God is
that we use such a small measure in
our beneficences and blessings to
others” (see Phil. 4:19, noting vv. 15-
19; II Cor. 9:8, noting vv. 6,7; and
I John 3:22, noting vv. 16-21). “One
of the most fundamental conditions
of prevailing prayer is generosity in
giving. A stingy man cannot be a
mighty man of prayer (Prov. 21:
13).” Read these verses with care,
and they will bring a real blessing
to your life.
Giving and Receiving
Give, and it shall be given unto
you good measure, pressed down,
and shaken together, and running
over, shall men give into your
bosom. For with the same measure
that ye mete withal it shall be meas
ured to you again.—Luke 6:38.
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HOUSEHOLD I
QUESTIONS ylr’j
Rusty nails put in the soil
around a hydrangea bush will
keep the soil healthy.
* ♦ ♦
Never throw away bones left
from a roast or shoulder. p ut
them on in cold water and if
cooked several hours, a very good
soup may be obtained with the
addition of diced vegetables.
♦ * ♦
If your carpet sweeper squeaks
apply oil on a feather or from a
small oil can. Use the oil on the
bearings and around the wheels
Then run the sweeper over a paper
to catch any surplus oil so it won’t
drip on your rugs.
♦ • •
It’s time to clean the fur collai
on your coat. Heat cornmeal,
in a shallow pan and, with the fin
gers, rub the meal well into the
fur. After two days, shake out or
brush lightly with a soft brush.
If the fur is very soiled, repeat!
This is very effective on the white
•fur so often used on evening
wraps.
first thought at]
T THE first warning
St OF COLDS'ACHES OR
INORGANIC PAIN
| Si. Joseph
ASPIRIN |
Be a Pattern
Be a pattern to others, and then
all will go well; for as a whole
city is infected by the licentious
passions and vices of great men,
so it is likewise reformed by their
moderation.
DON’T BE BOSSED
BY YOUR LAXATIVE ■> RELIEVE
CONSTIPATION THIS MODERN WAY
• When you feel gassy, headachy, logy 1
due to clogged-up bowels, do as millions
do —take Feen-A-Mint at bedtime. Next
morning —thorough, comfortable relief,
helping you start the day full of your
normal energy and pep, feeling like a
million! Feen-A-Mint doesn’t disturb
your night’s rest or jjiterfere with work the
next day. Try Feen-A-Mint, the chewing
gum laxative, yourself. It tastes good, it’s
handy and economical... a family supply
FEEN-fl-MINT Tof
He Knew It
“I liked living in the country.
Never paid a doctor’s bill all the
time I was there.”
“So the doctor told me.”
i J SOOTHES CHAFED SKIN fgfi
MOROLINEf
WHITE PETROLEUM JELLY
Power to Do
When there’s a log to lift, an old
man will grunt and a young man
pick it up.
;COLW
quick(u N-i*
#bl Ü bt»
566.^
WNU—7
As You Walk
Religion lies more in warn
in talk.
SSratary
These physicians, too, approve evL 0 f i
of advertising you read, the obi
which is only to recommend L>o j
as a good diuretic treatment lot 0 f
»f the kidney function and tor
the pain and worry it causes. the
If more people were aware o was; e
kidneys must constantly m “ ithou t
that cannot stay m the blood
jury to health, there would be & r
derstanding of why the whole o s . , a ,
when kidneys lag, and diure c
tion would be more often employ ir ; n ,
Burning, scanty or too fred tide'
tion sometimes warn of distur jiC i
function. You may suffer nag d>z
ache, persistent headache, atta pU f
ziness, getting up nights, aw • oc . v oai, r
ness under the eyes—feel we
all played out. . , rtly « a
Use Doan’s Pills. It is b' •. ~w i Je > c '
a medicine that has won {avctsbif
claim than on something
