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Indian Valley Record
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December 12, 1940     Indian Valley Record
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December 12, 1940

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Thursday, December 12, 1940 INDIAN VALLEY RECORD CHAPTER XIV--Contlnued --15-- "May I point out," Miss Agatha asked politely, "that Everett Ferri- ter also had access to that machine --and a latchkey to this fiat?" Shannon did not seem to hear her. He said: "I'll be taking that typewriter a~ng, too, Miss Paget. We've found your nephew's fingerprints on the keys and space bar. He it was who used it last. I'm sorry but--we're taking him in, for further question- ing." Still holding her aunt's hand, A1- legra felt with the other for a Chair and sat down. Miss Agatha moved ever so little. Her head lifted. A quiet, more impressive than bluster, was in h~r voice. "Just one thing, Captain Shannon. I'm the oldest living member of the Paget family. It has influence in New York." Beneath his breath, the policeman mumbled something. Miss Agatha went on: "That is not a threat, though you may think so. You're wholly with- in your rights in arresting Grove, but"--the fine old head, the pre- cise voice went a shade higher-- "but if you maltreat my nephew, if you. step over any single one of his legal rights, if you or any of your tribe lay a finger on him while you're 'questioning,' I shall see to it that more than a finger falls on you, sir. "I've lived," Miss Agatha ended, "more years in New York than I care to confess. If you misuse your authority, I shall misuse my influ- ence. And never," she added, with an oddly mirthful puckering of her eye wrinkles, "think I haven't got it." The bell rang as she ceased, as though her words had smitten some invisible bull's-eye. Shannon's face softened a trifle. He looked at her with respect and an unwilling trace of amusement. "Miss Paget," he began, "you're a--" I think he intended to compliment her but he was interrupted. A rud- dy-faced, elderly gentleman, slight- ly out of breath and more than a little ruffled, entered. He put on black-corded glasses to glare at Shannon and me and then beamed through them at Miss Agatha. The old lady gave a slow smile of tri- umph. "Tertius," she said, as though he were a late comer to a reception, "this is very good of you. Captain Shannon, this is Senator Groesbeck, my attorney. I think I can leave Grove safely in your joint care." I acknowledged introduction to the Senator who seemed to regard ev- eryone but Miss Agatha with the Justifiable suspicion of a corporation ~ounsel who had been hauled out of Oed into a murder case. Then I Bald: "I'll be going now, Miss Paget. Good night." "Thank you, David," she said and looked at me hard. I ducked my head toward Alleg- ra, barely meeting her eyes. I think she started to follow me to the door, but her aunt, whose hand she still held, stayed her. As I departed, Miss Agatha called after me: "Nine o'clock tomorrow, David. Or rather, today." She was not one whose purposes were lightly thwarted. CHAPTER XV Shannon and his prisoner had drawn the reporters away from the Morello. An empty taxi stood at the curb. I recall little of my ride home. I knew, as I got out of the cab, that I was out on my feet. I would not have thought of Cochrane and of what the new tragedy meant to him, and me, if I had not seen the telephone in Mrs. Shaw's hall. I hesitated and then called the Press. I got Jerry. I could not match his elation. He had reached the Mo- rello just after I had entered. Duke, he confided, had been angry at my reticence. Cochrane now was wait- ing word from the Press man at headquarters, whither Grove had been taken. I told him briefly what I knew, Withholding only my fore- knowledge that Grove had had a key to the Ferriter fiat, nor did I cite that apparently disembodied voice I had heard at Mino's. I was too weary to be discreet otherwise. The ache in my bones had crept into my mind and clogged my tongue. When I had finished, I heard Coch- rane's chuckle. "We'll hang it on the town again, Dave. I'll meet you at noon tomor- row in that beanery near the Morel- 1o. I have tidings to impart, my lad. They'll interest you." I wondered, as I pulled myself upstairs, whether anything e~er could interest me again. I slept so ~oddenly that when I woke, I had all the symptoms of a hang-over ex- cept the merfiory of revelry. Coffee eased my head and food ballasted my uneasy stomach. I read, as I ate, Cochrane's deft story in the Press. I wished that he had been a shade less authoritative con- cerning what had taken place in I felt better when I reached the q Morello and entered under the wist- ful eyes of a half-dozen evening newspaper men, none of whom I knew, but I found when Eddie Hoyt spoke to me that my nerves were raw and my temper hair-trigger. "Lissen, Dave," he begged, as he went with me to the elevator, "you don't think this young Paget really done it?" "No," I snapped. "Do you?" He blinked at my violence. "No offense," he said earnestly. "Only, Dave, if there's anything I can do for that old lady, I'd do it if I went to jail for it. See? She's been real good to me. Remember that, willya? There's something pho- ny about this hull thing. I can feel it, Dave." "You're telling me?" I asked as he let me off. Eddie nodded toward the Paget door. "This here Ferriter, the one that's left," he whispered, "is in there now. He come about a half-hour ago. Fineman tells me his sister took on when they blew in and heard what had happened -- kinds historical. They didn't stay hero last night." "Now that's funny, isn't it?" I jeered and pressed the Paget bell. "Not to me it ain't," said Hoyt, ducking back into the car. Annie let me in and motioned me into the workroom. Miss Paget, the maid said, was busy, but she'd see me in a few minutes. I sat down "That is not a threat, though you may think so." and stared at the four dim circles on the desk top where the typewriter had stood. I thought of Lyon and of the voice I had heard--unless I were screwy --issuing from the booth at Mine's last night. Could it have been only last night? Was it really yesterday afternoon that Lyon and I had fenced? I found myself sitting straighter. That broken epee point had not been accident. The plan had been to kill me while Everett searched my room and removed damaging evidence. What evidence? I groaned and heard Lyon Ferriter come along the hall. He was a shade more gaunt but his smile was cordial and his easy drawling manner fitted him like a long used glove. Once more, his voice and appearance overthrew my suspicion so violently that I found myself offended by his poise. "Good morning," he said. "I didn't expect to see you here." "Or I you," I answered. He frowned and shrugged his wide, stooped shoulders. "No," he agreed, lowering his voice, "I made an error in coming. I don't think there's anything in the etiquette book to fit Just this situation. People can hardly be normal in such circum- stances. I've taken enough on the chin in my time to fortify me a bit, but Ione"--his voice softened as he spoke of her--"is all apart again." "I can understand that," I told him. He nodded. "Of course you do." He paused and I felt his further words were a belated retort to Miss Agatha Pag- et. "After all, we are the--bereaved. Poor old Everett. I can't imagine why Grove--" He overplayed his hand. For the first time, I thought I caught the faint sound of duplicity in his speech. His martyred air irked me. I felt my brain light up and was canny enough to wait an instant, curbing myself, before I said: "I can't imagine that Grove did it." Lyon looked at me quite carefully and then shrugged again. "Fortunately," he said, "this time my alibi is endorsed. I only know what the police, and witnesses, say." "Sure," I answered, "and I don't suppose you can imagine how Grove got a key to your fiat?" If that reached him, he did not show it. He seemed to be thinking of something that his long brown face quite hid, before he said: the Paget apartment, but it was a "That is not true. I came here Well-handled yarn, scrupulously fair this morning to tell Miss Paget that as far as young Paget was con-II would make affidavit that I gave tamed. He was still held as a ma- I Grove that key." ierlal witness Which meant, I knew, J"Which,' I told him, "comes un-, that, so far, he had not talked. [ der the head of chivalrous perjury. It was good to throw pretense aside at last and speak my thought. "Miss Ferriter," I went on, "gave--" He lifted a hand so sharply that I stopped. "My sister," he said, and I felt now that he was wholly candid, "is to be kept out of this tragedy if I have to go further than--chivalrous perjury. She has suffered more than enough, already." His emphasis threw me out of my stride for an instant. "All right," I told him. "You gave Grove a key. Let it go at that. I hope when he opens up he tells the same story. You gave him the key. How does that explain his presence in your flat last night at the time of your brother's--- suicide?" He smiled at the stress I laid on the last word and that made me an- grier. "It doesn't," he said. "No one knows why he was there---except, possibly, poor old Everett." "Your sister knows," I said, tin- gling. "Maybe you do, too." "Are you," he drawled, "trying to be offensive?" "It's no effort," I assured him. "Everett committed suicide, No doubt he had his reasons. He left the note they found on Grove. No doubt you know what it means. Grove is that way about your sister. That's why he had a key. He's in this jam on her account while yOU---" A voice behind Lyon cut through my angry speech and checked it. "Would you mind," it asked, "stepping a little aside, Mr. Ferrt- ter? I thought you had gone." He obeyed. Miss Agatha sat be- hind him in her wheel chair, Her bleak face daunted Lyon who was as nearly ill at ease as I had ever seen him. "Yes," he stammered, "I should have gone-some time ago," and without further glance at me, hur- ried down the hall. The door slammed. The old lady turned her head and looked at me and again I marveled at the resilience of her crippled body. Not even the plight of her beloved nephew had dulled her eyes, or shaken her voice. I was still too angry to read omen in her regard. "I gather," she said, "Mr. Ferrl- ter has been telling you he gave Grove that latchkey." "I can gather," I snarled, "that he's willing to crucify a silly kid for the sake of Ione's good name-- if any." My violence seemed to soothe her. Her face softened a little. She said dryly: "I'm glad you're so strenuous. David. Something has happened that Allegra and I want to ask you about." I was so dumb that her words heartened me. I thought that they were going to ask for counsel and I forgot my recent wrath. Perhaps that sacrificial yearning I had felt in Allegra's presence wasn't so idi- otic after all I might yet serve her. "I'm grateful to you both," I told Miss Agatha. Again, she gave me that puzzled stare. I thought she was going to ask a question but she turned her head instead and called: "Allegra." I heard the girl come down the hall. Something made me faintly uneasy. I forgot my qualm when she entered the room. I got up. Worry had hardened her. Her face was white. Her eyes :endured mine so indifferently that i I wondered if this could be the girl I had kissed a few hours ago. She was immune to my smile; she was deaf to my greeting. She looked from me to her aunt, who gave a prompting nod. In Allegra's clenched hand, a paper crackled. Her voice had the same impersonal sound as she asked, looking straight at me again: ',Do you.k~ow ~ man :aamect.Law-. rence Duke?" I could feel it coming. I knew now that it wasn't just anxiety for her brother that had bleached and hardened her. There was sweat in my palms and my voice sounded hoarse to me as I said: "Yes." Allegra gave her head a quick llt- tle Jerk and unfolded the paper she held. "I don't," she told me with quiet :scorn, "but he writes on the letter~ l head of the Sphere: 'Dear Madam: I Perhaps you are unaware that your !escort of tonight is a reporter on I the Press in disguise.' " Miss Agatha asked: "Is that true, David?" "As far as it goes," I told her and there was a sudden dullness hi the clever old eyes. I had no time !to explain for Allegra said and her voice cut: "You have been stealing my aunt's generosity and my--friend. ship." "No," I said. "You are a reporter for the Press?" "Only on probation," I said. In her voice I heard the anger of trust betrayed. It angered me. I wheeled about and picked up my hat and coat. The girl said: "A stool pigeon." That stung. I ignored her pur- posely and turned to Miss Agatha, who had not stirred. (TO BE CONTINUED) Kathleen Norris Says:. Li'e, L:beyr y. and rHeUSbands "She never let me ALONE.t" By KATHLEEN NORRIS "USBANDS are people, as well as husbands. Wives are people, as well as wives. Children are people, too, as Well as chil- dren If most married folk could only get those three simple facts through their heads, a great many marital problems would be solved. But stupid mothers and fathers continue to snub, punish, ignore, or form en-, tirely artificial plans for chil- dren as if children were a race apart. They hurt the children's feelings; they "talk down" to them; they quote them in public to give everyone a good laugh; they interrupt the small girl's most absorbed play; they make fun of the small boy's dearest pal. Not that they would treat their friends, or even casual acquaint- ances that way. But children don't matter! How to Annoy One's Husband. Wives, too, have a great way of forgetting that a man lived several years as a man before he was a husband, and thoroughly enjoyed those years. Many a young wife ruins her marriage because she wants so completely to absorb dar- ling Billy's time, attention, money, affection, company, and even his past. I knew one bride who was eternally pestering her husband about his younger days. She didn't suspect anything sinister; she was Just curious. He had really liked Maude Baker, hadn't he? Oh, she didn't care one hit, but she wanted him to admit it. He had kissed Maude, hadn't he? Nothing wrong if he had, but she would like to know. This particular wife used to drive downtown to pick her man up every afternoon. If he had letters in his pocket, she wasn't happy until she saw them. If he stayed at the of- rice she telephoned twice. If he and his partner went out for scrambled eggs and coffee at eleven, she was hurt. She would have dressed and come downtown and Joined them it only he'd let her know! For a short while Billy enjoyed all this; it made him important in his own eyes. Then he became ~udden- ly sick of it, and although the reason his tearful wife gave in the divorce court was "mental cruelty," the real reason Billy shouted to his mother when he went back home to live was: "She never let me ALONEI" It hadn't occurred to Jean that Billy was a person. She thought of him as only a husband. Wives Also Need Breathing Space. Here's a letter from a wife who feels her husband doesn't give her breathing-space. She is 34, she lives in Hollywood, and she has two sons, :nine and six. "When I married Dave," writes Martha, "I had done post-graduate courses in architecture, and was working with a firm of architects, being pai l $40 a week and commis- sion. For a year I went on, then stopped and devoted myself to home and Taffy, and when Taffy. was three, to Stewart as well. No two small boys ever had a more devoted mother. I'm a good cook, too, and although I always had some help, I managed the meals as well as the boys. Dave did well, we moved into a lovely home with a garden, and when the boys got started in school I tried club work, social work, hos- pital committee work, bridge, hob- bies everything. I wrote nine poems and three short stories, all unpublished. Nothing seemed to be n~ wvrt~ HUMAN NATURE Never Jorget that all people are human, and just because they hap. !pen to be your wife, husband or child doesn't free them from hu. man traits and emotions. This is the advice Kathleen Norris o~ers mar- ried couples who look upon their mates and children as persons aparl from the rest ot the world. She be. lieves that much unhappiness could be avoided if they would realize that their loved ones are human beings--and treat them accordingly. "Then one of the members of my old firm got into the business of building groups of small houses here and there over the country; five- room farmhouses and little hacien- das that sell for $400 down and $35 a month. I told Dave I'd do it until I could buy myself a good car, which I did last July. I also bought for the house a coat of paint, blinds, an additional bathroom, and a new re- frigerator. Objects to Wife Working. "All was going serenely when Dave broke down two weeks ago in bitter protest against my continuing as a wage-earner. His arguments you know, for I've seen them in this column before. Taking the Job from someone who needs it more. Hurt- ing his pride. Robbing the boys of their mother's society. Doing what is unnatural and unfeminine and un. wifely "What do you think of this? Dave made a scene. He said he had been wretched for weeks. That his house was no longer home. That there was nothing in the world he wouldn't buy for me; nothing he wouldn't do if I'd just give up this nonsense of fireplaces and sinks and driveways and come home againl He shed actual tears. He said he loved his wife too much to have her walking around cheap raw lots all day with a couple of builders and painters and plumbers. "Dave leaves at a few minutes to nine each morning. The boys are off at eight, home at four. I go at nine, am always home at five. My colored Frances gives them an after-school sandwich, sees that they change their shoes and start their homework. Dave gets in after five." Suffers No Inconvenience. Martha, I think you're right and Dave's wrong. Not that I think ev- ery married woman who works is acting wisely. When it means r0s- taurant meals and unmade beds, unanswered telephone and nervous weariness, then a smart woman makes some other arrangement. But in this case of Dave and Mar- tha it has been worked out for the benefit of everyone. The boys see as much of their mother as most boys do. Frances keeps the house in order. Martha, who admits to being a good cook, undoubtedly does the marketing and supervises the meals. She is always at home when Dave gets there. What more does he want, any. way? What does he think life /IJ? A lovely home, a go0d maid, t~Vo small sons, a smart wife, money for luxuries as well as necessities, and happiness all 'round if he would only accept the situation. Thousands of wives, Dave, may duly stay at home between visits to beauty parlorS, shops, movies, mat- inees. ' But they don't want babies and they can't cook. And rather than helping with expenses they in. crease them in every direction. Thousands of wives are miserably unhappy when the last child gets off to school, and wonder all day long what they can do with them- selves and why they are alive any. way. Thank God that you have a won~ an as well as a wife. Gift Suggestion One way to sure popularity with pipe and "makin's" smokers is to say "Merry Christmas" with the big one-pound Christmas gift pack- ages of Prince Albert smoking to- bacco. See them at your dealers--- in gay holiday wrapping including gift card--and every big one-pound tin chuck-fuU of prime, rich-tast- ing P A.--the cool-burning tobac- co. Your tobacco store has Prince Mbert in the pound gift tins--pre- sents all ready to bring Holiday cheer to many a man's Christmas !morn.--Adv. Her Fourth Finger The custom of women wearing engagement rings and wedding rings on the fourth finger of the lest hand arose from the ancient belief that that finger contained a delicate nerve or a vein, called "love's vein," connected directly with the heart. By wearing the engagement or wedding ring on the fourth finger of the left hand, therefore, a wom- an sought to show not only that she was betrothed but that her heart was touched. S a onc Creomulslon 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 mere- 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 yott are to have your money back. CREOMULSION for Coughs, Chest Colds, B ronchifi$ Confidence Confidence is that feeling by which the mind embarks in great and honorable courses with a Sure hope and trust in itself.--Cicero. WHY SUFFER Functional Few women today do not have some a~n ~de |unetional trouble. Maybe yQu've notleed YOURSELF getting reatleas, meed~,neawou~ depressecl lately--yourwork too much mrYOU-- Then try Lydia E. Pinkham'a Ve~tablo Compoundto help flulat unstrun.s nelson relieve monthly lmln(eremps vaczacneo headache) and weak d/may zalntmg SI~LW dun to functional disorders. For own' S0 years Pinkham's Compound has helped hun- drsd4 of thousands o| weak, rundowns zaer- vous women. Trs/ff Final Words Boogy--Can you mention any fa- mous last words? Woogy- The bridegroom's "I do." BY YOUR LAXATIVE-RELIEVR I~ONSTIPATION THIS MODERN WAY When you feel gassy, headachy, logy due to clogged-up bowels, do as rnilliotm do--take Feen-A-Mint at bedtime Next morning--thorough, comfortable reltog, helping you start the day full of your normal energy and pep, feeling like a ndllion! Feen-A-Mint doxn't disturb your night's rest or interfere with work the next day. Try Feen-A-Mint, the chewink gum laxative, yourself. It tastes good, it's handy and economical a family supply coats only T 10 Short Life Our life is scarcely the twinkle of a star in God's eternal day.- Bayard Taylor. 48-hour treatment for men or wommm. pamphlet in plain envelope o~ eq~que~t Confidential. Terms. 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