Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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r. 1 S 4- «• • • WH ccryicl' CHAPTER Vin —11— The du*k about Mark In the ga rage went black. A bloody foot print! Had the crime horror spread to this small point of land? Brooke! Had anything happened to her? The possibility stopped his heart He had been so intent upon finding Jed, upon identifying the prowler that he had not thought of danger to the occupants of Lookout House. Sam was there. Nothing could happen to his sister with that boy near. Why was he letting his imagination loose? Would a man who stopped for a shave and a bath in the midst of house-entering be guilty of a bloody crime? But—the footprint? He dropped to his knees and touched it. Sticky! He flashed his light on it Sniffed. Turpentine? He sank down on his heels and choked back a shout of laughter. He had been fooled by red paint How had it come here? What was that dark heap beyond it? Over alls! Blue denim overalls still warm from the wearer's body. The driver at the car he had heard a few mo ments ago must have shed them before he left the garage. Why had be worn them’ Mark projected and rejected e* with lightning speed- Why the shave* Was the key frw M be vte limousine. He was safe behind the s'jmbs when the driver returned and noiselessly closed the garage door. A soft hat was drawn low over his eyes, but Mark knew him. Henri He was behind the wheel again! The limousine was coasting down the incline! Mark crouched as he ran after it. As the engine started, he drew himself carefully to the trunk-rack. He barely breathed. Had the driver felt a jar? Evidently not He was increasing speed. He was not headed for the causeway. He was going in the opposite direc tion. What did that mean? < After spinning past old land marks, the car slowed down and stopped. Mark saw the white cot tage. The filling-station. He must not be seen here. Surely the driver would make contact with someone inside before he left the limousine. Henri stepped out of the car. He stopped as if to make sure be was not observed. Mark slipped off the trunk-rack. He was cramped and stiff. He hob bled rather than walked into a deep purple shadow cast by a pine. He could see the cottage. He held his breath as Henri gently turned the knob at the front door and entered. What would he do next? Come back to the limousine? What a chance to grab turn. What was he doing inside fl house* He was taking his time The door was opening again! Mark hardly breathed. A man alippt out Hie hat was pulled down or his eyee. He slunk along M tl n Ptwwhrt in the Pirtfcr* Partui* transmitter. ‘Someone's hurt bed at the white cottage—that new filling station on tho point—Mike Cassidy talkin’—1 got to go. You don't understand— my daughter’* there—All right I’ll wait here.” He hung up and wiped a grimy hand across his sweat-beaded fore head. ‘That was my girl, Maggie, who called.” ‘Talk, man, talk! What’s hap pened?” “Someone hurt bad.” ••Who?" *T couldn’t make out” “Someone hurt at the white cot tage! But I was there not more than ten minutes ago, Mike.” ‘‘If I was you I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Mark. It wasn’t just hurtin.’ I was breakin’ it easy. Someone’s dead.” It M? a« d m« m away? Mark it a it e park N m hie gsrsi bwl be d ieka a later With rente* Only e ta ml Could be «• U Me »l was it e paralysed Mark • ^ | W.ih vara cm ha The attver' bul Me aihrvr! Thai X while ruvvt eat a i.gn rad from d It* Thai was rear It while he and Jad had bean al Ma by Me man who bad away Sura at plenty at time he had flopped fur a shower and ahav* Moving the loot to Me ga rage had barn his share at Me job Would a pel appear to drive Me stuff off* "He will, and her* he is!” Mark muttered, as Me frosty gravel out side Me garage crunched faintly. A key in Ma lock! Not a minute to waste. Where should he go? In side Brooke’s town car! The breaks were wtM him. It wasn t locked. The garage door was sliding beck. Mark saw a patch of sky. Ha banged his forehead as he plunged headfirst into the sedan, and saw a million stars. His head spun is he crouched in the space left by the turned back seat and drew the door shut without latching it He held it in place as barely breathing he listened. Footsteps on the cement floor! Cautious footsteps. A light on the ceiling! Suppose it should flash into the town car? It had stopped. Who ever It was, was taking his time. An engine turning over! Was some dtm fool starting a car with the garage door closed? Mark raised his head turtle-fashion. No, the door was open. He might have known it. Was it likely that the bandit would allow himself to be bumped off by carbon monoxide? Not that bad boy. He had too much at stake. He must follow. How? He couldn’t trail in another car. He would be heard. Could be hang on to the empty trunk-rack? That was an idea. He would follow the limousine out of the garage, flip Into the shadow of a shrub when the man went back to close the door, then grab the trunk-rack when the ear started again. ▲ stunt, but he’d make • stab at It If he were to hold (be men now he would learn side te aide. Mark aba* Me car ahead He went m aa appoaite dh reetme tfoew that take* by Hears— reed making his getaway fteen Me wkite collage bad been Heart—he wouldn’t run the chance at overtak ing him. It sevmad years before be reached MAe Caesidy t garage at Me entrance In Me cauaeway. hours before he could rouse Me man. be fore he partially opened Me door. ’’Let me In quick. Mike.” he whis pered to the blinking, cursing pro prietor. who was gripping some- Ming Mat gleamed dark and blue and ugly In a hairy, ham-bone fist ‘it's only you. Mr. Mark! Thought It might be a bold-up ” Cassidy's lower Jaw swung like a gate on loos* hinges. He slipped Me sutomstic Into his pocket be fore he rolled back the garage door. ’’Where can I hid* this?” Cassidy pointed. Not until the limousine was stowed behind a motley collection of broken-down cars did Mark Trent explain. ’Tve just rescued the family sil ver. Mike. The yarn I have to tell you will beat any of the thrillers you get over the radio. Not afraid to keep the car here, are you?” Cassidy's red-rimmed eyes grew moist He wiped his nose on a shabby coat sleeve. , “I ain’t afraid to do nothing for you, Mr. Mark. You an’ your family give me my start; sometimes you’ve kept me goin’ when I didn’t know where the next meal was corn in’ from. I felt mean when I let my Maggie go to work for Mrs. Hunt who treated you so bad, but we needed the money somethin’ terri ble, so she took the Job, though it was at that new fillin’ station that’s try in’ to put me out of business.” A telephone rang. The two men stared at one another. Mark’s blood turned to ice. Cassidy whispered: ‘‘Holy mackerel! Who’s callin’ this time of night? Have they traced you and the silver this quick? Per haps there’s a gang after you!” Mark nodded toward the tele- ” Answer I" His muscles need aa he listened. “Cassidy's garage—Yen. Maggie! CHAPTER IX “Don’t move! I’ve got you cov ered!” In obedience to the hoarse warn ing, Sam and Brooke Reyburn stood as if turned to stone in the dark ball of Lookout House. Lights flared. Brooke stared in credulously. Was that Jed Stewart with his hand on the switch glaring at them with wide dilated eyes, with his mouth open as if he had just swallowed a salt wave? That was a flashlight he was pointing at them, not a pistol It was Jed Stewart without his coat with his black bow tie under on* ear. with only one shoe on. “For the love at Mike. Jed Stew art perhaps you’ll tell me why you’re holding us up ta our own bouse* Why this Public Enemy No I touch?” Sam ‘ What are you two at Jed. Yeu’fl o f* A 1 1 wa • Mat tnt M my MM end I eabod I beord eaunde to Me It sort el took my bceeta •or a minute and my brain whirled like a pin-wheel Then 1 grabbed up my flash from the table beside the bed and Upload to the door. I banged It open. Water was gurgling out of the tub, dripping from the shower, my shaving things were scattered everywhere, and—a shoe waa going out of the window.” Stew art pulled oilt a handkerchief and mopped bia red, moist face. “A shoe!” Brooke and Sam ex claimed in unison. ”1 presume there was a foot in it or an instant amazement para lyzed me. I made a strategic er ror. Instead of beating it after that shoe, I poked around. The razor was gone. That fact gave me a nervous chill. ‘Why would a man take that? Who could it have been? Kowa?’ I asked myself. ‘But he has his own bath; why should he use rciine?’ Then I came to and realized I was wasting time.” ‘Til say you were and you’re fairly spilling it now. Keep going! You did go after him, didn’t you?*’ ”1 did, Sam, but first I shouted for Mark. I hadn’t much hope that he would hear me but I didn’t dare wait to make sure. I squeezed my boyish figure through that window and wriggled to the balcony. I lis tened. I could hear only the pound of the surf and the crack of frost in the trees. Cautiously I peered over. Nothing moving. A sound! After this I’ll never doubt that hair can rise. Mine felt like that green stuff you see growing up straight on one of those terra cotta heads. I listened. Sounded like a curtain flap ping. Then I noticed that the win dow next to mine was open. Had the man gone ta instead at over? *1 knew that It waa a Lookout House window. Brooke, but I didn't know whose room. I couldn’t be fussy about Mat AO the horrors Id ever beard rushed through my mind ea I thought at Me nuasiag razor and at what might be happen ing to you end Lurvtta end Bern." He ran his Bngrre under hie c*i» Mr. It cbobe* me even ta think at N. Where erne I* Oh. yen. I iguessed Through and dropped softly ta Me sad draw Me abedo my Ml* starter hove a pel I renaaned— before I Uptaed tata Me sdJiTtag Behind a banging I reeennettared. A mirror ever a desk ta Hta need e bondmr with bower I knew Mel Me ream Mends emend the pups ere feet ea hmny Making ea seme at Me Mu* Meeds Met welt erect an two legs Thu parade at cham pions is offered M proof. But no matter how be looks. It Is true that the dog Is man's best friend, and anyone who has ever owned a dog. whether It be cur or champion, will agree. Some of us may not agree that others choose the' type of four-footed friends that we would choose, but aren't we the same way when it comes to choosing two-legged compan ions? Qjtworit That Is Anythino but Work MM Mvwty Wild* Ho*# Amigo 9m doilies gr buffet Ml M M eney M go So encouraging, too, bar tho beginner wbo’d like to try her hand at It Aren’t they life like— these rosea* Delicate shaded of pink would be moat realistic, of A gloomy Gus is this doleful bloodhound, but he shouldn’t be—he’s a champ: "Brigadier of Reynalton.” Pattern 5503. course, but the pattern is no less lovely if worked in thread to match your linen. A refreshment table set with these would be most tempting! In pattern 5503 you will find a transfer pattern of a doilie 11 by 174 inches and one and one reverse doilie 6 by 9 inches; material requirements; il> lustrations of all stitches used; color suggestions. To obtain this pattern, send 15 cents in stamps or coins (coins preferred) to The Sewing Circle Household Arts Dept., 259 W. Fourteenth St., New York, N. Y. Please writs plainly your name, address and pattern number. The ultimate M Mp dogs Is the chihuahua Her* Cfcamptaa Cecil** at Etty Haven, who weighs only 1M pounds and has a steeping suit sag spe cialty-buiK glass house, surveys a few at her Murals Tiny as May are. the diminutive chihuahuas ere always on* at Me ‘ biggest” ettractieas at Tdrotit* Keen ofo th* U/**l Mere I I CaB r* Yea Get us what you're datng M d Jed.” “Let’s ga M th* bitches or* likely to stabilise our erao- as.” Brook* suggested. TO ake cocoa and we’ll scramble eggs. Jed must need food after th* late es-excitement — he’s fairly twitching with it—and I feel hollow to my toes. Com* on, Sam.” "Sounds okay to me. I’m a grow ing boy, I need lots of nutriment You’d better eat Brooke; you didn’t touch a thing when we cam* back from rehearsal I'll run up and get a couple of bathrobes. Taka these, Jed.” He kicked off his slip pers. ‘Til put on shoes upstairs.” Sam followed her Into the kitchen. “Sam can be speedy when be wants to be.” she admitted, as her brother entered with a lurid bath robe over his pajamas and another all red and green stripes which he flung at Stewart ’There you are, m’lad.” "Bring the milk, egga, butter and bacon from the icebox. Sam. Toss me that apron, Jed, the big white one—that’s right Toast some bread, Sammy.” Soon Sam sniffed. “Doesn’t the bacon smell dandy! Here you are, folks.” He arranged thin, crisp strips around a mound of fluffy scrambled eggs. “You and Jed sit down, Brooke, and I’ll bring the cocoa after I find the marshmal lows to drop into the cups.” Brooke slipped off the apron and waited until Sam had served steam ing hot cocoa with a little melting white island floating in each cup and helped himself lavishly to scram bled eggs and bacon, before, with elbows on the porcelain table, chin on her clasped hands, she suggest ed: “Now that th* shock of discover ing us roaming round in our own bouse has somewhat worn off. per haps you’ll tall us bow you got to and why. Jed?” pt to A drawee wm an Me Bear, ns eeettaced M *B dtavettaun A eke te area eveeinened I bead t ream. Whet > What wetod I tod an le to Met deer* The heB The men—~ i Me BeMCryetal Bek d4 and he dan* wtM M but pet has ewt at due bone*. Break*’* eye* wdi pep eul af bee bend M s nunnto ” "Den t (ntaempt. Bean. On *M Jed. DM yon tea anyene*” "Couldn't •*« enyMtng DMa*t { dare nee my deeb foe tear I m<Md be epetted I figured Met Me men find beard me an tar my ream, bed beet M to Me balrany. bed eeen Me crawled to ptoewmd ta meke Ms get away tram Me tower Boar. I gum every creak of a stair board, expect ing every minute that I’d be m pad al "to th* haD I stopped to listen. Sounds upstairs Fatal sounds 1 bunted for th* light switch. Found It It seemed years that I waited M th* dark with my finger itching to press that button. Th* house waa so still 1 could hear my brain working. Stairs creaked! Back stairs! A door swung! He waa coming! A chair crashed! I had him! I shouted: ** ’Don’t move! Tv* got you cov ered!’ Snapped on the hall light When I saw you two blinking and staring like owls, you could have knocked me over with a toothpick. That’s the end of my installment at th* aerial Now. perhaps you’ll ex plain why you were prowling round this bouse?” With her arms in the big green mandarin sleeves crossed on the white porcelain table, her eyes deep shining pools of excitement, Brooke leaned forward and told him. Stew art’s lips and cheeks puffed and de flated at second intervals as he lis tened. Suddenly, Sam raised his hand in warning. “Listen, folks! Footstepa! Stealthy! Outside! Who’s coming?” Jed Stewart sprang up. He caught hia chair before it could crash, and swung it experimentally as Sam pressed the light switch and plunged the room into ghostly gloom. (TO BE CONTINUED) 1 CfeAflfr* *% aaia mmk Mag at %% taps a*aaai •b va* v%M0aa TWai > fm at dm* * • •#tav > • * ’■ Is wevert chMap 14 *«a etavwaaae Mia and atfl dry tagtedta QamfcMa wwi MBfkfftoBli aa4 add All al iMi w i want wuat OT- tott UU a£ 1 tor togred erv amn*I . in MR beet III mm Itossr taka ket greased not 4HJI * aaai babe to bed aw*. m* akeul Si meeetae. How Constipation Causes Gas, Nerve Preesure ^r,c, xzzzsfzzz.'s omm* mu • >^MMelUraiMta T. ** rest i lam loves la this champtoo poodle, picture M i which brought many tough* at a New York dog a London Old Literary Center London has always been the work shop of Great Britain’s literary light*. There toUed Shakespeare, 1 Chaucer, Coleridge, Defoe, Dickens. Dryden, Gibbon, Goldsmith, John son, Keats. Lovelace, Marlowe. Mil- ton. Raleigh. Shelley. Sheridan. Thackeray and scores of th* mes end women who built th* sturdy foundation of literary England Many at the bouses connected th* lives great writers s Livsra tos ewe D^K ajutIcnolT^IS ■■a* h b anfiata i tw* --—n S. -ni^: 4ms*»s m4 drussuu l«r *» rw». 55; £■* QI’ICR iJSm. 11 “ 11 u ** It’s hard to imagine what Tom Sawyer would have thought of the champion poodle above or the Yorkshire terrier (right). It k bio Great Dane pupptse »*»rt to growl HOW LONG CAN A THREE-QUARTER WIFE HOLD HER HUSBAND? Y OU hsve to work at marrtace to make a success of it. Men may be selflsh, unsympathetic, but that’s the way they're wmta and you might as well realize It. When your back achee and your nervee scream, don’t take it out on your husband. He can't possibly know how you feel For three generations one woman has told another how to go ‘‘smil ing through” with Lydia £. Pink- ham's Vegetable Compound. It helps Nature tone up the system, thus lessening the discomforts from the functional disorders which women must endure in the three ordeals of life: 1. Turning from girlhood to womanhood. 2. Pre paring for motherhood. 3. Ap proaching ‘‘middle age.” Don’t be a three-quarter wife, take LYDIA B. PINK HAM’3 VEGETABLE COMPOUND and Go "Smiling Through.'* MALARIA COLDS