Newspaper Page Text
Hidden Wavs,
FREDERIC F. VAN DE WATER ® SOT
CHAPTER XV—Continued
—l6
"Don’t bother,” I said, ‘‘to ring
for the maid to show me the door.
1 can find it. I ask you—not now
but later when you’ve less to dis
turb you—to think seriously whether
I’ve ever violated your confidence.
I knew about Grove and his key.
I saved him once from the jam he
is in now. I knew of his liaison
lone. See how much of that
you can find in the Press, or any
other newspaper—up to now.”
Allegra gave a little laugh of dis
belief. She tossed Duke’s squeal on
the desk between iis and went from
the room. I bowed jerkily to Miss
Agatha and headed for the door.
Her voice checked me.
“Up to now," she repeated. ‘‘Do
I understand that is a threat?"
I had stood plenty. Her stern
eyes could not beat mine down.
‘‘And do I understand,” I an
swered, “that your question is a
prelude to bribery?"
“Are you,” she inquired, "doing
your best to be insulting?"
“I am,” I told her, “and I didn’t
begin it.”
She chuckled. The hearty sound
never seemed more bizarre. It
wrecked melodrama and spoiled my
pose. 1 stared. Miss Agatha grinned.
“Put down your hat and coat,”
■he bade me. “I want to talk to
you. Don’t stand there gawping.
Do as I say. Allegra is troubled
with ideals. She’ll outgrow them in
time. Suppose you tell me, as po
litely as you can manage, just how
you happen to be on the Press.”
She smoked onu of my cigarettes
while 1 confessed my arrangement
with Cochrane, ani the difficulties
of being pulled two ways by con
flicting loyalties. Once or twice,
while I spoke, she nodded and when
I had ended, gave that preposterous
grin of hers.
“You make me feel better,” she
told me. “I didn’t want to believe
I’d twice been mistaken in my esti
mates of character in so short a
time."
I found myself defending Grove.
“You’ll learn when this thing is
unscrambled that he’s been Just a
young idiot, nothing more. No one
can make me believe that—”
“No one can make me, either,”
■he broke in, quietly. “He’s a good
boy. He’s lacking in common sense,
that’s all. Well, it’s a family fail
ing.”
“Miss Agatha,” I blurted, smit
ten by the calm she preserved above
the anguish that must be tearing at
her, “you’re a game guy!”
Her face relaxed a trifle.
“David,” she said, “when wom
en reach my age, they cry easily,
or not at all. I have no gift for
tears. Grove is in trouble and I
have to help him. I always used
to pull him out of scrapes. Thai’s
my job again.”
She looked at me and the wrinkles
about her eyes deepened.
“If you had a spark of chivalry,”
■he mocked, “you’d offer to help
me.”
“And if,” I answered, “you had
any intuition whatever, you would
know that anything I’ve got is
yours.”
“I do know it,” she admitted with
another chuckle, and then grew sud
denly grave.
“Will you help me,” she asked,
"to save my nephew from the trou
ble into which a scoundrel and a
stupid police force have plunged
him and out of which a pompous
lawyer apparently can't get him? I
■m an old woman, David, and a
cripple. I can’t put a murder and
• suicide where they belong, by my
self.”
“All you have to do,” I prom
ised, “is point out the murderer.”
“Do you think so?” she asked
tartly. “I’ve found him already.”
1 looked hard at her.
“It’s Lyon Ferriter,” said Agatha
Paget. “I’ve known that all along.”
CHAPTER XVI
Miss Agatha’s quiet w r ords were
tnore shocking than screams. They
•poke so simply and readily the be
lief that I had blundered toward,
and recoiled from and reached at
again that I could only stare at her.
I blurted:
“How do you know?”
She was like a damaged and an
cient lamp in w’hich the flame still
burned clearly. She told me:
“From his hands. I was sure the
evening when Captain Shannon first
questioned him. Don’t you remem
ber?”
“Very well,” I answered, “but—”
“His hands,” she went on, “hung
at his sides. Usually, he uses them
a lot. He was watching himself.
He was acting the part of an en
tirely innocent person in whose flat
■ man had been found murdered.
He was overacting it. He had some
thing to hide and he was hiding it,
very carefully. Too carefully to fool
me.”
“Then why—?” I began, but she
cut me off.
“David," she said, “I’ve been nev
er so certain of my own virtues that
I cared to hunt down the iniquity
ol others. Mr. Ferriter may have
had very good reasons for killing
his visitor, but—”
She b:t on nothing with a little
Jerk of her head and I thought of
Lacbesis, the withered Fate who
cuts the cord. She rummaged in
bar handoag for something and, di
vining her need, I offered a cigarette
and lit it for her. Smoke and some
thing more dire had narrowed her
eyes as she went on:
“Lyon Ferriter was clever in his
alibi. Since the part that anyone
can check was fact, it has to be
presumed the rest was too. No one
can prove he was in that flat when
the man was stabbed. What?”
I had started to speak. Now I
said, “Excuse me,” and held my
words.
"And until,” Miss Agatha went
on, “that is proved and it is found
how he got out afterward, Lyon Fer
riter thinks he is safe. He is proud
of his cleverness. That is danger
ous—for him.”
“Well?” I asked as she paused.
She did not seem to hear me. She
pursued, her eyes still narrow, her
voice daunting in its calm:
“All of which has been none of an
old woman’s business—up to now.
Lyon Ferriter called on me this
morning. He said he wanted to help
Grove. What he wanted was to ad
mire his own cleverness. If he had
come to me fairly, David; if he had
said. ‘Your nephew and my sister
have been having an affair. How
can we get them out of trouble
most easily?’ he would have had
me as an ally.”
She rubbed the cigarette out on
the ash tray with slow violence. I
“Do I understand that is
a threat?”
gave her another. Her voice had
an odd ring as she went on:
“But he didn't. He had no idea
why Grove was in his flat! He said
that he had given the boy a key
because Grove was in and out of
the apartment a good deal. Implic
itly he served notice on me that that
was what he had told, or will tell,
the police. He’ll protect his sister
and leave Grove to be scapegoat
for the death of Everett and the
earlier murder, if possible. My
nephew’s plight is a godsend to
him.”
“And to lone?” I asked, doubt
fully.
“And to lone,” Miss Agatha an
swered and her jaw grj>w hard. “She
hasn’t spoken, has She has not
come forward with the truth to help
her lover. Hers is the perfect fear
that casteth out love. I wish I knew
what it is.”
Her self-possession got me by the
throat. I blurted:
“How foul people are!”
Miss Agatha cocked an eye at me.
“So you’re finding that out?” she
asked.
She sat silent a moment and I
thought of the weathered figurehead,
immune to storm.
“Miss Agatha,” I said, “what do
you want me t 6 do?”
She answered indirectly in a level
voice;
“All my life, thanks to my legs,
I’ve been audience to the sorry
dramas mortals play. I don’t like
the way this particular one prom
ises to end. I don’t like the thought
of Grove still in jail—though I un
derstand he is only being ‘held for
questioning’ according to Senator
Groesbeck.”
“Has he—your nephew—given any
explanation?”
The affectionate smile that accom
panied her reply was pitiful. Grove,
it appeared, had said nothing to the
police and little enough to his law
yer. He had been typing a letter at
the desk in the workroom and had
seen a light in the apartment, across
the air shaft. He had gone to the
Ferriter flat and had found Everett
about to throw himself from the
window. He had tried to hold him,
but the man had screamed and torn
free. That was all. He would say
no more. He would not even ex
plain the note the police had found
in his pocket.
“And they say,” Miss Agatha end
ed, “that chivalry is dead. Grove,
the young sophisticate, posing as
Sidney Carton would be funny if it
weren't so tragic. He won’t see
that. He won’t help himself. Very
well, I shall have to save him by
putting Lyon Ferriter in his place.”
The certainty in her voice stirred
mine to awe as I asked: “How?”
Miss Agatha looked at me hard for
an instant and the wrinkles about
her eyes deepened.
HOUSTON HOME .TOIIRN VT,. PERRY, GEORGIA
“David,” she said. “I haven't the
least idea,” and she gave her deep
chuckle.
I sat on the desk’s edge and told
her everything I knew. It was a
relief to talk to someone without I
holding back. We smoked together 1
at first and then, as I passed from
the scuffle in the basement to the
duel with Lyon and the rifling of my
room, the cigarette burned down un
heeded in her fingers. She asked
at last:
“And why have you had all this j
attention?”
“Miss Agatha,” I told her with a
grin, “I haven’t the least idea.”
She chuckled again.
“At any rate,” she said, “wo
start even as allies.”
“Wait,” I bade, and told her af
the foreign voice I had heard at
Mine’s. She looked at me hard
when I had finished.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“Right now, I’m not very sure of
anything. Yet I don’t think I’m be
ginning to hear voices. And it may
be important, but it isn’t evidence,
unless we can persuade Lyon to
drop back into it again for the bene
fit of the police.”
“No,” she said thoughtfully.
“You’re right. It’s a signpost, noth
ing more. There is a flaw in Lyon,
somewhere. Everybody has one. If
we could only find it and work or
it—”
“You said he was proud," I re
minded her.
“And clever,” she added. “And
also lucky, at poor Grove’s expense.
Think a minute.”
She gathered her fragile body to
gether and looked hard at the hands
clasped in her narrow lap as though
they held a seer’s crystal ball.
“Think,” she went on, “of his
luck. Everett knew Lyon had killed
Blackbeard. And Everett was fright
ened. Anyone could see that. He
was not of the breed of heroes. You
were to be killed by accident while
Everett rifled your room. The Fer
riters thought you had something
that was key to the murder.”
“And Everett failed,” I offered
as she paused, “and that, plus fe«r,
destroyed him. So he wrote a fare
well note to his family, who were
waiting for him to show up at Mi
no’s, and killed himself out of sheer
terror.”
The surprise in her face heart
ened me.
“Yes,” Miss Agatha said slowly*
“that is quite possible and Grove
found the note and since its implica
tions seemed to threaten the well
being of his precious beloved, pock
eted it he would and thereby
damned himself.”
There was excitement and odd re
lief in thrusting facts into the pig
eonholes of theory where, at least,
they would lie without falling out in
confusion. Faint pink had come to
Miss Agatha’s cheek-bones and her
eyes sparkled. I asked:
“Has your nephew told to whom
he wrote the letter at this desk last
night?”
“He has not,” Miss Agatha an
swered. “I never have known si
lence less golden than his.”
“Because,” I went on, “I think ha
is telling the truth,” and then I
confided my own experience at that
desk when, looking up, I had seen *
light across the area and Grove pull
ing down a shade in the Ferriter flat.
Miss Agatha, when I had ended,
reached out a hand and, amazingly,
patted my knee.
“I think, David,” she said quiet
ly, “a very wrong-headed pair dt
women owe you more than an apolo
gy for what they thought of you thi*
morning.”
“Forget it,” I told her.
She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Just postpone
it. Mightn’t it be well if we were
to write down, separately, all we
know and suspect of this—bewilder
ment? Thereafter, comparing our
lists, we might find some hint of
what else we should do?”
“It might,” I granted, humoring
her.
“There's another typewriter
about,” Miss Agatha thought aloud.
“I believe it’s in the basement
storeroom. I’m sure it was put ther«
when it came back from the repair
man’s. Allegra!”
I do not think she saw the move
ment I made to check her call. I
had small desire to face the scorn
ful girl again. It hurt too much and,
at the same time, angered me. But
in an instant there she stood in ths
doorway, looking at her aunt and
plainly not recognizing my exist
ence. Sight of her smoldering nieca
made Miss Agatha revise her pur
pose.
“My dear,” she said briskly, “1
have already apologized to David
for what we both thought when hi*
friend’s letter came this morning.”
She paused. Allegra’s face did not
stir nor did her eyes move. I fum
bled for some word to end this or
deal and found nothing.
“Why should I apologize?” the girl
asked. “So that I can read about it
in tomorrow’s Press?”
If she could hurt me so, I might
be able to reach her. I said, as eas
ily as I could:
“News must be either interesting
or important.”
I was sorry then, for she looked ai
me, caught her breath and fled.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
By VIRGINIA VALE
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
CAROLYN LEE is only six
years, but already she has
made more money in the movies
than most people are able to
save in a lifetime.
By spring, when her latest
picture, “Virginia,” will have
been seen by many people,
she should be established as
a child star. In “Virginia”
she has an important role and
speaks almost as much dia
logue as the stars, Madeleine
Carroll and Fred Mac Murray. Yet
she can’t read. Her mother reads
. Carolyn’s lines to the child two or
three times, and little Miss Lee
commits them to memory.
The infant seems to have been
shot with luck two years ago; she
was in a hotel in Wheeling, W. Va.,
just a few miles from her home
CAROLYN LEE
town of Martin’s Ferry, Ohio. She
toddled up to a man, a stranger—
and he just happened to be a movie
executive. He let her lead him to
her mother—and a screen test and a
bit in “Honeymoon in Bali” resulted.
Fibber McGee and Molly have
been signed by RKO to co-star in
a picture with Edgar Bergen and
Charlie McCarthy; the picture, a
feature film, will be produced by
David Hempstead, who produced
Ginger Rogers’ “Kitty Foyle.”
Maureen O’Hara, RKO-Radio’s
star from Ireland who is now at
work in the leading feminine role of
“They Met in Argentina,” recently
bade farewell to her mother with
the injunction to “bring back a bit
of the old sod” and a shamrock.
Mrs. Fitzsimmons sailed for Lisbon,
but expects to return soon with an
other gifted daughter.
She and Maureen came to this
country two years ago, when Mau- j
reen made her Hollywood debut in
“The Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
“The Bill of Divorcement” and ]
“Dance, Girl, Dance” followed, and
Mrs. Fitzsimmons, who used to be
an actress herself, is perfectly satis- |
fied with her talented daughter’s
achievements.
Mow’d you like to act as a target
for tomatoes and like it—and even
ask for more? That’s what George
Michclson spent his time at the oth
er day, and after the fourth shot
he was the happiest man in Holly- ;
wood.
Michelson is assistant property
man on James Roosevelt’s “Pot o’
Gold,” and he had to make the to
mato that James Stewart throws at
Charles Winninger. He did it first
by filling the thin outside skin with
a mess of catsup, chocolate sauce
and other little items, and then had
somebody throw it at him while a
camera turned.
After the first three smacks Mi
chelson shook his head. “Nope,” he
said. “This won’t do. I’ll have to
put some whipped cream in it.”
So the whipped cream was added,
and once more be took a tomato
right between the eyes. This time
he could grin—he’d made a photo
genic tomato, one that photographed
so well that when it meets up with
Winninger on the screen all of us
will think it was just the ordinary
garden variety.
Fran Allison, singing comedienne
on the “Uncle Ezra” air show, can
scratch her forehead and tickle a
rib with the same motion, at the
same time and thinks probably
she’s the only person who can.
About a year ago she had a plastic
surgeon repair some injuries she’d
suffered in an automobile accident,
and he fixed up her forehead by
building it up with one of her ribs.
ODDS AND ENDS-Fred Allen reads
nine newspapers every day and clips
everything that seems to contain a sug
gestion for his radio show; then he selects
the best items and points up the humor
... The thousands of Brian Donlevy fans
who have begged Paramount to give him
a romantic role are going to have their
wish granted—he'll play the part of a
romantic two-gun gambler in “Pioneer
Woman,” with Barbara Stantvyck and Joel
McCrea . . . This year’s concert tour takes
Nelson Eddy to twenty cities — he’ll return
to the coast by April 7th, to start on
Metro’s “The Chocolate Soldier,” with
Rise Stevens.
—" * JSSSSSS3
IMPROVED
UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL
SUNDAY I
chool Lesson
•fflSiffSK
of Chicago.
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Lesson for February 16
Lesson subjects and Scripture texts ■*-
! lected and copyrighted by International
J Council of Religious Education; used by
i permission.
JESUS TEACHES FORGIVENESS
AND GRATITUDE
LESSON TEXT—Luke 17:1-4. 11-19.
GOLDEN TEXT—Be ye kind one to an
other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another,
even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven
you.—Ephesians 4:32.
Did you ever hear of “vinegar
saints”? They are the Christian folk
who are “preserved” (as Paul
prayed in I Thess. 5:23), but are
apparently pickled instead of sweet
ened. Every housewife knows that
things may be preserved with sugar
or with vinegar.
God never intended it to be that
way. All through His Word there are
admonitions and encouragements to
gracious and considerate living. Ev
ery Christian is under orders to
“grow in grace” as well as in the
knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ
(II Pet. 3:18). This lesson stresses
two leading Christian graces.
I. Forgiveness—Not Always Easy,
but Always Possible (vv. 1-4).
The Bible is ever realistic in its
approach to life. God knows that
Christians must live in just our kind
of world; in fact, your kind of world,
and makes provision for it.
Offenses cannot be avoided. There
will always be occasions for stum
bling. No matter how closely we
may guard our children, they will
face temptations. Let us prepare
them to meet them with the power
of Christ, and let us be so prepared
ourselves.
The fact that offenses must come
does not excuse the one who creates
the cause of stumbling. Someone is
responsible for every such occasion
for offense, and the woe of God is
pronounced upon him.
What shall I do about the one who
thus tempts me and others? Just
grieve over it and look the other
way? No indeed. “Rebuke him,”
says God’s Word. Let us do it! If
he does not repent, there is no oc
casion for forgiveness. To do so
would only encourage him in his sin.
If he repents, or even says he
repents, we are to forgive, not just
once, but over and over again (v.
4). That’s not easy for any of us,
but it is possible if we, like the dis
ciples (see v. 5), ask God to “in
crease our faith,” and use it as
Jesus directs in verse 6.
11. Gratitude—the Almost Forgot
ten Christian Grace (vv. 11-19).
Nine men wonderfully healed of
the dreadful disease of leprosy, and
only one said, “Thank you,” to Je
sus, “and he was a Samaritan,” an
outsider or stranger. One wonders
whether in our own day of professed
enlightenment and culture the aver
age of those who express their grat
itude would even reach one-tenth.
“Gratitude is as scarce as friend
ship.” Many there are who profess
to be Christians who never offer
1 praise to God for the provision of
their daily food, let alone for all
other temporal and spiritual bless
ings. The kindness of friends is
taken for granted. The thoughtful
ness of others is accepted without
! comment.
Have you told your minister that
you appreciate his sermons and his
ministry in the community? Does
your Sunday School teacher know
that you have received help and
blessing in the class? Does the edi
tor of this paper know that you en
joy and appreciate this column? If
you do, why not encourage him by
calling him on the telephone or writ
ing him a note to tell him so?
Young people, have you ever said
a real heart-felt “thank you” to your
father or mother for all they have
done for you? Perhaps some older
sister or brother or school teacher
or neighbor would be greatly heart
ened by such a word from you.
Someone may say, “I am grate
ful, but I am not the type that
talks about it.” One wonders wheth
er Henry Van Dyke was not right
when he said, “A dumb love is ac
cepted only from the lower ani
mals.” A dog will show his thank
fulness by wagging his tail, but a
man has a tongue with which to say
kind and tender words of apprecia
tion to both God and man.
Most important of all, let us bear
in mind that God awaits our words
of praise. Christ valued the words
of gratitude of this man and missed
them from the nine others. When
He was in Simon’s home (Luke 7:
44-46), He gently rebuked His host
for failing to show him the ordinary
courtesies of the household.
Appreciate Beauty
Never lose an opportunity of see
ing anything beautiful—welcome it
in every fair face, every fair sky,
every fair flower and thank Him for
it who is the fountain of all loveli
ness; and drink it simply and ear
nestly with all your eyes; it is a
charmed draught, a cup of blessing.
—Kingsley.
Bible Is Valuable Guide
I have read it (the Bible) through
many times; I now make a practice
of going through it once a year; it
is a book of all others for lawyers
as well as divines, and I pity the
man who cannot find in it a rich
supply of thought and rule for con
duct.—Daniel Webster.
HOSIERY
5 Pairs Chardonlze Hosiery $1 50 Son 1 >
O. Perfumes, Negligee. Socks, Rainon-.. 1
Sheets, Blankets. Stamp brings parti
Sales Agency, 3;>0« Michigan Ave.. Chica^
WATER HEATERS
Automatic Electric Water Heater m n ,
Finest quality $3O. Buy direct from f, al '
Sr» AROUKD~~
yj THE HOUSE
You will find that fresh bread
will cut easier if you heat the
knife.
* * •
To keep muslin curtains even
when laundering, put two curtains
together and iron as one curtain.
♦ • *
A little vinegar put into soapy
water when washing aluminum
ware helps to keep it bright.
* * *
For washing windows—an old
auto windshield wiper blade makes
a good utensil to wipe water from
house windows after they have
been washed.
* • •
Before hanging clothes on the
line in freezing weather, put pins
on the clothes in the house, then
snap on line with double clothes
pins.
Wishes
Anger wishes that all mankind
had only one neck; love, that it
had only one heart; grief, two
tear-glands; and pride, two bent
knees.—Richter.
Relief At Last
For Your Cough
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, in
flamed bronchial mucous mem
branes. Tell your druggist to sell you
a bottle of Creomulsion with the un
derstanding you must like the way it
quickly allays the cough or you are
to have your money back.
CREOMULSION
for Coughs, Chest Colds, Bronchitis
Fruitless Harvest
Who eat their corn while yet
’tis green,
At the true harvest can but glean.
—Saadi.
CONSTIPATION
and acid indigestion, headaches, belching,
bloating, dizzy spells, sour stomach, bad breath,
when due to constipation, should be corrected
immediately with B-LAX. These conditions
often cause lack of appetite, energy and pep.
If you don’t feel relieved after the first dose of
B-LAX—your druggist will refund your money.
Philosopher’s Stone
If you know how to spend less
than you get, you have the philoso
pher’s stone.—Benjamin Franklin.
H EAD ACHIE: JPO> WD ERS
Send tor FREE Sample • Kohler Dig. Co, Baltimore. W-
Sweetest Plum
In all the wedding cake, hope is
the sweetest of the plums.—Doug
las Jerrold.
COLDS
quickly, u-ie.
66611^
WNU— 7 ~ 7 -il
Kindness Reconciles
Harshness will alienate a bosom
friend, and kindness reconcile a
deadly foe.
WHEN kidneys function badly
you suffer a nagging backache,
with dininess, burning, scanty or too
frequent urination and getting up
nignt; when you feel tired, nervous,
all upset ... use Doan’s Pills.
Doan’s are especially for poorly
working kidneys. Millions of boxes
are used every year. They are reo onl '
mended the country over. Ask Y ou
neighbor!
