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SYNOPSIS
the STORY SO far: Janice Trent
runs away from wedding Ned Paxton,
, lc h but a gay blade. By a device, she
becomes secretary at a wilderness camp
In Alaska. But Bruce Harcourt, newly
appointed chief, who has known her since
girlhood was not aware of it till later.
Mrs Hale, wife of the deposed chief
engineer, is also attracted to Harcourt.
H cr husband treats her badly. Hale
fullers a stroke or feigns one. The de
parture of the Hales from Alaska Is
postpone''. Hale is believed to have an
affair v. .li Tatima, an Indian girl. Her
sweetheart, Kadyama, resents it. Hale
ca) ls Janice in the absence of Millicent
Hale to take some dictation, a codicil to
bis will. Millicent suggests going with
Bruce and his assistant, Tubby Grant,
on an airplane visit to the city. Janice
is invited also. At the last minute, Milll
cent can’t go. Janice enjoys the trip and
the bustling Alaskan city.
Mow continue with the story.
CHAPTER VIII
Was she really thousands of miles
from New York, Janice asked her
self, as she passed modern build
ings’, a college, homes with gar
dens’, riotous garden borders, with
clumps of pale yellow day lilies,
spikes of larkspur in every known
shade of blue, patches of early pink
phlox, mists of Gypsophila. She was
amazed at the size of the flowers and
fruits forced to tropical luxuriance
by the constant dew and mist baths.
She was mentally tabulating the
varieties of flowers she had noticed
as they entered the lounge of a
hotel, set in the midst of several
acres of ground. It was thronged
with tourists who had arrived by
the railroad.
Refreshed, with her skin wind
burned to a dusky pink, cooled by a
dust of powder, she met Grant in the
foyer.
“The-main dining-room is swarm
ing with tourists. Harcourt has or
dered eats in a private room. There
are a lot of newspaper men about
and he’s dodging being interviewed
about the bridge.”
She turned as Harcourt entered.
“Hope you don’t mind the cramped
quarters. The place is jammed. The
tourists will be off after breakfast.”
“Breakfast!”
“What time did you think it was?
We started at sun-up.”
“I can’t believe it. How far have
we traveled?”
“Hundreds of miles.
Indian boys, in native costume,
entered with trays. Amber coffee,
pots of it; rolls, crisp and delicate;
raspberries, crimson, gigantic—for
raspberries—cream clotted; bacon
in crisp curls; a thick bear steak
which oozed delectably red at touch
of a knife; potatoes baked to burst
ing flakiness. Janice purred con
tent as she tasted the fruit.
“So this is Alaska!”
Grant grunted skeptically. “A part
of it. Wait till we take you bridge
building next winter out into a coun
try where the nights are twenty
hours long.”
Grant chuckled. Harcourt sug
gested:
“Show Miss Trent the town, Tub
by. Don’t let her buy any fake furs.”
Later he asked, “Need any mon
ey, Janice?”
"No thanks, I brought all my
pay.” She lingered on the threshold.
"Aren’t you coming with us?”
“Can’t. Business. I will walk as
far as the bank with you and Tubby,
then I’ll meet you at the field in
an hour.”
The streets were thronged with
tourists, with automobiles, luxurious
imported models, smart town cars,
shabby out-at-the-elbow flivvers
whose only possible excuse for ex
isting was that they kept moving.
Fat oily Eskimos with square flat
faces, fat little noses; bronzed In
dians in lurid blankets; squaws sell
ing baskets and beads; brazen wom
an, their chains of gold nuggets their
fortunes; sourdoughs with heavily
lined faces, humor sparkling in their
faded eyes; officers in o. d.
A hand touched Janice’s shoulder.
She had been too engrossed in the
Panorama to hear footsteps. She
smiled radiantly.
“Tubby, this is a wonder—” She
looked up. The world went into a
tailspin. Ned Paxton? She must be
dreaming. No, those were his in
tensely blue eyes. His hand tight
ened. She was conscious of mount
■ng anger under his caressing smile.
“So here you are!”
She twisted free.
‘So here you are! What are you
doing so far from the Great White
Way?”
His eyes held hers. “I came for
you.”
lor me! How did you know
I was?” She could cheerfully
ave bitten out her tongue for grati
ymg him with the question.
} h, an interested party, who had
een our pictures in the paper, and
cognized you, radioed your where
an<d I started. I expected to
you, but not so soon.”
th»f\i! nterested P art y! Hale? Was
nat the explanation of the demoted
e s sinister chuckle yesterday?
somehow she must get rid of her
csr^ ance before Bruce and Grant
tbaVu' oldd she infuriate him so
"n s Wou * d hate her, leave her?
tion a y ° U uy *bat ra <dio informa
fill , S yoll i lave bought everything
bribM Uf ou k° ast th at you
scrapes y °v Way ° Ut of colle 8 e
captain‘in Y ° U Were the y° un g est
becan? your re giment. Why? Not
but bp Se you Wef e a better soldier,
6tor wut USe , your father was a Sen '
with oodles of money.”
“It would be awkward—because—well. I’m already married.”
She stopped for breath. His eyes
were dark with amazement, his lips
hung open. Of a sudden, color
surged under his fair skin as though
it would burst through, it reddened
even his ears.
“If I buy, you’ll admit I pay the
highest market price.” He took a
step nearer. “Like you all the bet
ter for that flare, Jan. Crazy about
you. Now I’ll never let you go. You
know that you love me. I’ll forgive
you this school-girl trick. We’ll be
married here.”
“Oh, no, we won’t.” Who was
speaking? Janice listened to the
voice which seemed like her own,
yet not her own, which came from
a long way off. “It would be awk
ward—-because—well, because I’m
already married.”
“Married!” His grip on her shoul
der tightened till it hurt. “Mar
ried!” He turned her toward him.
“What’s the matter with your face?
Does friend husband beat you up?
To whom are you married?”
The strange voice so like her own
yet not her own answered prompt
ly.
“To Bruce Harcourt. I—”
She turned at a curious sound. Be
hind Tubby Grant, whose green eyes
bulged, whose boyish mouth sagged
in surprise, stood Bruce Harcourt.
• • •
His eyes steadily compelling her
eyes, it seemed hours to Janice be
fore he spoke. Then he said evenly:
“Met an acquaintance, Jan?”
Paxton laughed. Anticipated the
girl’s answer.
“An acquaintance! I am the man
she was to marry. Is to marry. Just
who are you?”
“Bruce Harcourt. Janice told you
that she was already married to
me. After that, your boast is an in
sult to her and to me.”
Janice stepped between the two
men as he took a step forward.
What evil spirit had prompted her
to drag Bruce into the mixup? But
Harcourt laid a silencing hand on
her shoulder. He ignored the blond
man regarding them with skeptical
amusement.
“We must be off, Janice. Found
orders here which will take us back
at once.”
Paxton laughed indulgently.
“Don’t linger on my account, Jan.
I know where to find you. Sent my
boat up the coast; I am to join it
by plane. Life may be real, life
may be earnest in this wilderness,
but I’ll bet by the time I arrive
you’ll be fed up on it, be Reno-mind
ed and raring to get back to the
Great White Way.”
Harcourt reached for him. Jan
ifce blocked his advance with all her
strength.
“Bruce! Bruce! Don’t make a
scene here—please.”
With a laugh and a mocking bow
Paxton backed away.
“I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry. I
didn’t know why I said it.”
“Said what?”
“That you—that I—oh, don’t make
me repeat it. You know.”
“Come.”
He slipped his arm within hers
and led her to the sunny room in
which they had breakfasted.
“Sit down, Janice. I want to talk
to you.”
Harcourt leaned against the table,
arms crossed on his chest.
“Although his name wasn’t men
tioned I gathered that the man was
Paxton?” she nodded assent. “Why
did you barricade yourself behind
a lie?”
“Someone touched me on the
shoulder. I looked up expecting to
see Mr. Grant. When I saw Ned, a
sense of unreasoning terror, panic,
stampeded me. The world went into
a tailspin. My one thought—if you
can call my mental process thinking
—was to put an unscalable wall be
tween us. I had been so happy all
morning—”
“You had been happy?
“Gorgeously. When I looked up
and saw that man it was like
like a plunge back into the night
mare of those weeks before you
found my slipper. When he said
that someone who had seen my pic
ture in the paper had radioed him
my whereabouts —”
“Did he say who?”
“No. When he said, ‘We’ll be
married here,’ I heard a voice,
which didn’t seem to be mine, re
tort' ‘That would be awkward, be
cause—well, because I am already
married,’ and then he said
HOUSTON HOME JOURNAL, PERRY, UEORGIA
“That being the case there is only
one thing to be done now. Remem
ber that yesterday I told you I had a
plan? It won’t interfere in the least
with your onward, upward business
career. I tried to prepare you for it
last evening when I hoisted that ‘No
Trespassing’ sign. I want you to
marry me.”
“No! No! No!”
“It is the only way. You can’t go
back to headquarters except as Mrs.
Bruce Harcourt. Tubby’s gone for
a notary public—luckily there is no
five-day marriage law in the north
ern wilderness—when we get back
we’ll announce that we set off this
morning with every intention of be
ing married, wanted to avoid fuss,
etc., etc. Let’s try Miss Martha’s
test. We will live in the same house
for two months before the marriage
decree becomes final. Get me? It
won’t be any different from living
with your brother Billy. If you dis
cover at the end of that time that
I appear at breakfast ready to bite,
annulment is easy. We’ll be mod
ern—call it trial companionship. Un
derstand me? I will give you ten
minutes in which to think it over.”
He opened the door, closed it be
hind him. Janice tried to weigh
the situation dispassionately.
Suppose she consented to the plan
Bruce advised? She would still b«
secretary to the outfit, do her share
in opening up the great north coun
try. Why shouldn’t she help as
well as the Samp sisters, who were
making history with their Waffle
Shop? Life here thrilled her.
A knock at the door. Had ten
minutes passed already! Her heart
shot to her throat and fanned its
wings. She steadied her lips.
“Come in.”
Bruce Harcourt closed the door
behind him.
“Well?”
Janice swallowed hard. "Don’t
stand there like a judge about to
announce a life-sentence. I—l’ve de
cided. I’m going—back.”
“To New York?”
“No. To—to headquarters.”
“You understand that you go only
as Mrs. Harcourt?” |
Something in Janice’s heart
snapped.
“Of course I understand. You
made it plain enough that you
wouldn’t take Janice Trent back
with you. I know that you don’t
really want me—l know that I’m
tagging again—that I’m utterly self
ish—but—l want to stay in Alaska.
I can’t really hurt you by marrying
you—temporarily, can I?”
The tense gravity of his face broke
in a smile.
“No. You can’t really hurt me
by marrying me.” He picked up
the telephone.
“Office? Harcourt speaking. Tell
Mr. Grant that I am waiting for
him.”
The sense of unreality persisted
through the civil ceremony, per
formed by a short, fat little man
who intoned through a nose pinched
to compression by tortoise-shell eye
glasses.
A hand touched hers, slipped
something on her finger. She met
Bruce Harcourt’s eyes. Asked
breathlessly:
“Is it over?”
He looked at her without answer
ing. Grant and the notary said a
few words of felicitation and depart- I
ed. Harcourt released her hand.
“Quite over. Now, Tubby will take |
you shopping. We haven’t much j
time. I must get back to head- j
quarters.”
Resentment at the lightness of his
tone, at the fact that h<» was eager to
turn her over to his henchman, j
pricked at Janice’s not too steady
nerves. How could he take the
situation so lightly?
“You speak as though you were
in the habit of being married every
day.”
“Not every day. Never before to i
a girl who was miles away during i
the ceremony, who didn’t sense the
fact that I existed.”
Janice’s heart was twisted by !
contrition.
“Bruce! Bruce! Forgive me. I
was beastly. I was dazed, that was
all, dazed. It came so suddenly, j
Let’s not start out as though w#
were going to fight and die over
this. I’m not sorry I did it, really
I’m not. I’d do it again thl* min- ;
UtG ’ (TO BE CONTINUED)
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NOSE 41 « J
