Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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BANNERS £ Emilie .orincj SYNOPSIS Brooke Reyburn vUlU the office of Jed Stewart, a lawyer, to diacuaa the terma of an estate the hat Inherited from Mra. Mary Amanda Dane. Unwit- tlnfly the overheart Jed talklnf to Mark Trent, a nephew of Mra. EVne who hat been dlilnherlted. Mrs. Dane had Uved •t Lookout Houte. a huge structure on the tea, bui.t by her and Mark’s father. Brooke had been a fashion expert, and Mrs. Dane, a "shut-in.” hearing her on the radio had invited her to call and de veloped * deep affection for her. Mark discloses that Mrs. Dane had threatened to disinherit him if he married Lola, from whom he is now divorced. He says he does not trust Henri and Clotilde Jacques, Mrs. Dane's servants. Leaving her department store Job, Brooke re fuses an offer to "go stepping” with Jerry Field, a carefree young man who wants to marry her. At a family con ference she learns she must live at Look out House alone, since LucetU. her younger sister who is taking her Job, and her mother plan to sUy in the city. Jed and Mark are astounded when they beer from Mrs. Gregory, a family friend, that she had witnessed a hitherto en- wlll with Heart and Clotilde two before Mrs Dane died. Brooke leaving Jed that Mark open kla part rf get owl about the will Jed Is stay with him Mark Mrs been In the Lookout House garage at this time of night? Whoever it was, was leaving. He could hear cautious footsteps. An automobile starting! He strained his ears. It was speeding down the street to ward the causeway. That didn’t prove anything, it would be easy enough to turn into a side road and cut back. Was the man who had sneaked from the house driving? Had he stolen the car? Even so, he couldn’t follow it, he must find out why he had entered the garage. He crept to a window and peered In. Dark as pitch except for a white blur. That must be the cover of Aunt Mary Amanda’s old limou sine. Why was the unused car di rectly opposite the door? He re membered now. Jed had told him that he had a k.’d an offer Henri Jacques had reported for the out-of- date machine. Probably the butler had planned to drive it off In the morning. The men who had Just made his get away had stopped here. Why? Had he hidden loot? The silver? But the silver only a few hours ago. A rail 'Tor get I Not a chance. Think Til forget a night off tram rehears ing? Nothing short of an act of Ood will keep me away. Sam, the old tyrant, is giving us a break. I'll be seeing you.” Jerry Field picked up his sister’s coat "Come on. Daph, let’s go. If Fd known that we were to have a night off, I would have taken you dining and dancing, Brooke.” "Nice of you, but I think that a party will be heaps more fun.” “You would think that. I don’t know why but this whole evening has gone haywire. Come on, Daph.” Daphne Field snuggled her hand in Sam Reyburn’s. “Good-night, Sammy. Don’t love me much, do you, darling?” Sam shook off her hand. “Fll love you when you learn your lines, and what’s more,, if you don’t learn ’em, you’ll be tossed off the lot” “You mean that I’ll be fired?” Daphne opened her eyes at their widest “L fired, after I’ve had gowns made to wear that will sim ply stop the show? Come on. Jerry. Nobody likes us here.” From the threshold she threw a kiss to Sam. He grinned. “Sam. do you like Daphne?** asked Brooke. “She's good fun. Swell looker, a t she?” ekl her heart to stop its tng. Was a window being opened cautiously? If only the wind would stop for a minute. Had the squeak come from the next room which was being used for scenery? It had a small iron bal cony like the one which connected Lookout House and Mark Trent’s. A person might easily slide down the trellis. She tiptoed into the room and closed the door softly behind her. This must be the window that had squeaked; it was wide open. It had been closed this afternoon when she had come in to scatter green paint on the flats and to give another splash of red to the peak of roof on the backdrop. She flashed her light around the room then on the floor over which a sheet had been spread. A can of red paint had been overturned! It was sluggishly spreading. Tipped over recently f Slowly Brooke’s light traveled. A red foot print! Uncannily like a bloody one. The man must have stepped into the thick paint Another! One be yond that under the window. Cau tiously she followed the trait A smooch of red on the window silt He had gone that way. Was he on the balcony? What would she see if she looked out? She must look out She wouldn’t close her eyes tonight unless she knew that the man had . she wouldn’t care. U be inoum as i. Presented in cm intriguing manner that is something new in journalism I fPHAT is “Picture Parade,” the newjihotographic department now a regular feature of this news paper. Each issue will bring the inside story of some fascinating phase of human or animal life, completely illustrated by camera artists. Read (and SEE) bow an air hostess trains for her Job, how the girls of Japan are imitating their American consins, bow the lion and the lamb lie down together in strange animal friendships, how ventriloquists’ dnmmies are made, how a couple may he married at the bottom of the sea. and dosens of other great pic tore-stories in PICTURE P1R1DE Follow “Plcturo Paradd** In •▼•ry of this B bo’d Own a Dag like Thw? «?esiiod MO ~P»eie*e Could be turns*if do It* H* appraised th* dials ace. stepped over, and swung Cautiously be stepped over th* rail and ripped bis bands from th* frosty iron. With bis heart drumming like an airplane motor he concentrated bis attention on the window. A crack of light showed between the hang ings. Whose room was it? Should he take a chance that it was Sam’s or Brooke’s and tap lightly? A window was being opened cau tiously. Where? He flattened him self against the house. Must be the end balcony outside the studio. He visualized the interior as he had seen it the day be had helped Jerry Field sketch in the tree trunks on ithe backdrop. Someone was crawl ing out! A man! He was sliding down an iron trellis like a monkey! Now he was running across the lawn bent double! He was entering the garage! Mark Trent crammed the electric torch into his pocket and swung a leg over the railing. He hitched yinwg till his feet found an up right. went down hand over hand. rortamly to a I beer that he if be d accept the invitations heaped on him. It gets me why be settled down in this burg. Don't be tor* at me. sweet thing. Wasn't It natural for me to think the flower yours when Stewart produced the gardenia that he found at Trent’s front door when you weren't wearing any?” Before she could answer she heard someone approaching. She drew a breath of relief as Sam and the two girls entered. "What smashed in the kitchen, Sam? 1 thought the chimney had fallen in.” "Nothing but a stack of those war ranted unbreakable plates Clotilde keeps things on in the ice-box. And did they crack up? The floor looked as If there’d been a snowstorm.” “The sound brought Henri down the back stairs in a hurry. Ever seen him in his robe de nuit, Brooke?” "What a giggler you are, Lucette! Of course I haven’t" “You’ve missed the laugh of your life. He waa something straight out of a Cruikshank edition of Dickens. Night cap with taaael; night shirt That meant that I Mark Trent’s Was H th* black-gloved man had been in the attic this evening? She swallowed her heart She couldn’t alt here forever. She must move. How still the room was! The silence of fear enveloped her like a cold mist and turned her fingertips to ice. Perhaps she was In a night mare and could waken herself. Glorious thought She’d scream. Her mouth remained open as a hatless man in blue denim slipped past the swaying hanging. His head was wet and sleek as a seal’s; his face below his eyes—bad eyes—was so thickly plastered with white as to be unrecognizable. He gave one furtive glance over his shoulder be fore he flitted in ghostly silence from the room. Brooke pulled out the drawer of her desk. It crashed to the floor spilling the contents. Maddening! It would do that when she was in a hurry. On her kneea she scrambled after an electric torch which had rolled under a chair. She dashed to the ball Who waa the man? What waa the stuff on his face? T We U | stairs. Follow me We ll get tela th* front of the house that way ” He switched out the wall light, opened th* door and stood motion less. listening. “Let’s go!” Brooke nodded in response to his whisper. The hall seemed miles long as she tiptoed through the dark; the back ataira endless in number as she stole down, stopping at every creak, holding her breath at every sound which echoed as if amplified in the walls. Sam stopped at the kitchen door to listen. Crept on to the front halL Brooke controlled an hysterical urge to laugh as she stole after him. “The Reyburns go sleuthing,” she thought, and chuckled. She felt Sam’s quick turn and glare, though she couldn’t tee it The turn was catastrophic. He lurched into a chair. Hi* muttered, "Thunder!” was submerged in a hoarse command: “Don’t move! I've got you cov» ered!” (TO BE CONTINUED) • Picture Parade, now a regular department of this newspaper, tells a fascinat ing story each week, and tells it in pictures. Don’t fail to look for it in every CioQM* ^ itll Is and Kxplort* Mammoth Cave • Tfcat’s mm of the reual thrills that await read ers la “Picture Parade.” the pkete-stery feature now ap pearing la this newspaper. Strange beings, strange customs are pictured by camera artists and ex plained in brief, interesting comment. People who live in strange ways, animals who defy the laws of nature, fellow humans who DO things —like the little girl pictured below, who oper ates a hospital for ailing animals -r form the subject matter of this intriguing feature. 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