Evening Star Newspaper, July 26, 1925, Page 62

4 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. O, JULY 26, 1925—PART 5. LOVE (With Incidental Music)| B8Y ROYAL BROWN Proving That Discord as Well as Harmony Has Its Place in Courtship. F a May evening which should have been as calm as the overbial ) morning— and which would have been, had nature been permitted to relgn undisturbed—Theodore Nor- ton, 2nd, returned to Elton Heights. Returned was his wont, somewhat in need of a shave, attired in nonde- ipt khaki and showing the marks the m v miles he had traversed since his t appearance there. And though soft shades of night might ¢ a kindly mantle over his disreputable app¢ ance, even they could n: conceal his shame. This w rause he had none. Heigh might blush for him, N\ n, 2nd, free, white gh to know better, con- walk in the error of his ed to Even the comments of Kay Elton, the most charming of his feminine never ruffled his com- v,” Kay had asked, o around looking like a 1a you suggest as cor- o one of my deplorable Ted had demanded A tux?" Don't be silly!” she had retorted. such a thing as a happy might at least wear 1 1 thank vyou,” he had replied. *“hoth for your interest and for your advice. But I protest that I do not call a white collar a happy medium. It rasps my neck!” To which he had “Besides, there are too many in Elton Helghts al- Which may have been true, but vhich was treascn none the le: on Heights had been founded Kay's ancestors. Her immediate ancestors, in fact, for her mother and in which she was born. Thev ught an old farmhouse which they dubbed Elton Manor. They then and full of optimism have proved contaglous. \er young married cou- by emigrating there, too. al settlers had numbered married couples. Other 1t later, as the city be- gan to encroach, but they were never of the original group officially. That was because of the plan—eight houses built in a rectangle with, in place of eight back yards, one common play- ground, two croquet lawns, and later a tennis court The latter was never of champlon- ehip caliber, but famous battles were fought there. Life was before them all—in 1901 Their ships were sure to come in. At 25 who could not_stand a measure of privation with the knowledge that, come 40, luxury was certain? 0 they had felt. The Eltons, the Nortons, the Witherbees and the : A typleally American com- Which means its menfolks rerican ideals in their pical American white collars around their necks. They were of a caste which must be preserved at afy cost They had preserved it. But in 1924 life had chastened them. Their hopes and thelr ambitions were in thelr children now. They all had typically American families. One child, mostly. - The El- tons, for instance, glimpsed their fu- ture in Kay. The Nortons had seen theirs in Ted. But—Ted! As the descendant of one of the elght original white-collared settlers of the heights, he should have had both its interests and its traditions at heart. But he never had had. He proved that vet again this May night by helting abruptly under a budding maple, the better to view what the heights considered the crowning mis- fortune of its history. “The Six Musical McSweeneys,” he murmured with a grin, “are certainly living up to their name.” ples ende The ori ight young houses were 2ok THEY who called themselves “The | Six Musical McSween and proved {t—or perhaps disproved it—by playing everything from saxophone and trum to snare drums and sleigh bells, were recent arrivals at the Heights. They had moved into what was still known as the Wither- bee house. The Witherbee house now broad- cast jazz until even the soft, shy stars of Spring seemed to shudder and with- draw. The residents of the Heights could not withdraw. They stmply shud- dered. Shuddered—that is, with one excep- tion. “Class,” approved Ted, “class—and brains!” From the Witherbee house his eyes rned toward Elton Manor, which :d the supreme misfortune to ad- in it. A light shone in the kitchen. rom that Ted deduced that Kay Elton, having_said good night to her “latest,” had descended from the high titudes of romance and was forag- ing the family ice chest. He decided to join her. Kay was discovered as he had vis- ualized her. “Who's that?” she demanded, rafs- ing a startled face as he entered. It's me— Theodore, gift of the gods,” he announced modestly. “Who asked you to come, way ““Nobody, on any- he admitted. “But I'm of those joyous souls who find come anywhere. Don’t let me dis- irb you. And don't make any spe- cial preparations on my account. Just select something good and hearty and hand it over—"" “Do you ever think of anything ex- your stomach?” ‘Oh, absolutely! Even now my soul is uplitted by the melody next doo: He paused and extemporized: “There's music in the air When the infant morn—is—nigh. There's music in the—ai-r— Tt Tips great holes in the sky. Speaking of Infants,” he added, “I nderstand that the youngest Mc- Sweeney—that 8-year-old artist with the incredible legs—is going to start 1o learn that steam calliope next week. ;:n re having one shipped out to 1 suppose you think you're funnyl” she commented. “My jokes,” he acknowledged, “have been laughed at by people to whom I owe money. I know of no better tribute. But speaking of jokes, w comes it that Colgate Derr Brom- ¢ deserted ‘you so early this eve- ning’ “Don't countered. b % be so transparent!” she “Just because you're jeal- Because he won y tions away from me blandl Kay blushed in spite of herself. “You know very well what I mean,” she snapped. “‘Oh——you mean that brilllant plan of his that has filled our hearts and ears and—yes, even our digestive ap- paratus with music? Misjudge me not. I salute the brain that conceived it. I stand and marvel » “You get out’ she commanded, coming swiftly to her feet and threat- ening him with the first missile that had come to hand. voung affec- be suggested “Ob!” began Kay firmly. “Two—" He dodged outdoors just in time. PR ND that, as Kay's mother would have remarked, was the way they always ended up. They couldn’t be together five minutes without quarrel- ing. For which Kay's mother was not sorry. Ted was, she granted, attrac- tive enough. But he was absolutely irresponsible and irrepressible. “He'll never stick to anything,” she ‘was wont to remark. And the Heights agreed with her. They had seen Ted start off for col- lege, matriculating, as had his father, at Amherst. But he had not stuck it out. “I'd make a dub lawyer and if I studied medicine—well, Heaven save my patients,” he had explained. “So what's the use of your slaving to put me through?" Ted's father had wondered himself, sometimes. “Just what do you intend to do?” he had evaded. Ted had hesitated. Then: “Well— there seems to be money in furniture moving—"" “Furniture moving! This is no time for joking, Ted. Try to be serious for once in your life.” “I am,” Ted had replied. And a furniture mover he became. The modern sorf—long-distance truck- ing and all that. He drove a truck for a man named Riley; had secured the job, indeed, even before he told his father he wanted to leave college. “It's because it's outdoors and he's crazy about engines,” his mother had walled explanatorily. “It's just a crazy notion. He’'ll get over it."” Indeed, Ted might have become an outcast, had he not refused the nomi- nation.” A truck driver he might be, but that did not prevent him from looking very well in @ tux. And he danced on his own feet, not his part- ner’'s, was always in funds and had a way with him. The mothers of Elton Heights might not approve of him, but their daughters were wiser in their day and generation. With them a man was a man for a' that. And Ted might yet have been snatched from the burning and re- formed had he not, in his own phrase, been fast on his feet. He never stuck to one girl—he flitted. “A second-string Romeo, filling in until the regular shows up— that’s me,” was his explanation. Which added, inevitably, to his repu- tation of never sticking to anything long. True, he had stuck to his truck for all of four years now, but that, as Kay's mother would have argued, was the sort of thing he would stick to. ‘And she thanked her stars that there had never been a grain of senti- ment between him and Kay in all the years they had known each other. There was no reason, she assured her- self—passionately, almost—why Kay —s0 much prettier than she herself had ever been—should net marry anybody. Meaning. of course, some- ‘body—somebody with social position and money, who could give her gowns and trips to Europe and cars and servants. All that she herself had somehow missed, and which, like so many mothers, she craved vicariously —and inordinately—for her daughter. | And then in April—flowering of all her dreans—Colgate Derr Bromley had appeared. As far as Kay's intro- duction of him to her family went, his coming was casual enough. But there was nothing casual about her mother's reaction. Even before Col gate Derr Bromley had had opportun- ity to speak for himself, his car, gilmpsed from an upper window, had spoken for him. The car was a long, low, racy road- ster which suggested power and price in every line and every accessory. It looked, in Elton Heights, like a bird of paradise among Sparrows. Yet the Heights was given to under- stand that all this magnificence was something that its owner deprecated. The roadster, it seemed, was endeared to him by long association and ex- cellent service, so that, though he real- 1y ought to trade it in, he preferred it to_his other cars. There were apparently an indefinite number of these. But Colgate Derr Bromley never appeared in them. Which led Ted to remark that he was from Missouri. “Isn’t_that where the mules come from?” Kay had suggested sweetly. LA INJO one else paid even that much attention to Ted's jibes. Eiton Helghts is very human; it appraised Bromley’s car and rated its owner ac- cordingly. The fact that it bore New York license plates gave it a final fillip of distinction. Everybody in Eiton Helghts placed Colgate Derr Bromley as a New York- er. By his sartorial eplendor, his ag- gressiveness and—yes, even his ego- tism. New Yorkers are that w: the successful ones. So they agreed. And there was no questioning Col- gate Derr Bromley's success. Five thousand dollars wasn't to him what it was to the Heights—more than any member of the community had made or ever would make in a year. It was a sum to be rolled off the tongue casually, contemptuously, al- most. ‘his talk about young Wood and his near million makes me sick,” he assured the Eltons. “Why, I know chaps that have cleared up that much in a month. If you've got a bit of chicken feed—$5,000, for instance—you want to play with, I can give you a tip on something good right now!" This was addressed to Kay’'s father, who {nadvertently swallowed a spoon- “A lady,” he protested, “doesn’t throw things; least of all, tomatoes. I defy vou to discover precedent for @ n any book of etiquette——"" \ | some ful of hot soup in his surprise and so was obliged to combat strangulation. Five thousand to play with! Kay's father was a big man, jovial and pop- ular with his fellows, but not—well, not the success he had once hoped to be. He was slow of movement and sometimes it seemed to him he must be slow of wit too. Three thousand a year had proved his limit. He no longer hoped to make more. Rather ‘was he haunted by the fear he might make less. He was very polite to Bromley and though he felt a distaste for the younger man he flattered himself that he hid it. His wife assured him other- wise, in the privacy of their chamber. hat do you want me to do—fall 02 his neck and kiss him?"” he demand- ed. “You know very well that you've taken a perfectly preposterous dis- like to him.” “He's a stock market gambler—and they’re all rich one day and broke the next.” “He's not,” she retorted. ‘‘He's a promoter—and if you think he's not a good one, just let me tell you this —he's stopping at the Copley Plazal” “Those promoters always have to throw a big front!" “You make me sick!” she an- nounced. “You might at least want to see Kay get the things we've never been able to give her!” And if Kay's father displeased her mother. Kay in turn bewildered her. “She seems so—so calm about it all,” she confessed to Kay's father time later. “Flowers, books, candy and theater tickets—why, I would have been in the seventh heaven when 1 was a girl.” He gave her a curious look, but said nothing. “Not that I wasn't,” she added, hastily. “But think what such at- tentions mean to a girl, Sam. I should think she'd be simply thrilled.” The rest of Elton Helghts certainly was. The long racy roadster forever drawing up before the Elton house; flow and candy by messenger boys! Think of it! And_the diversion was Heaven- sent, for all this was back in April when the Witherbee house, just va cated by the Randalls, remained a problem. The Randalls had not had the distinction of being among the original settlers, but they had proved most acceptable adjuncts to commu nity life. Which was more than could be said of their immediate prede- cessors, a family which had kept a horse In the cellar! This had seemed to Ted, aged 11, and Kay, aged 8, a highly _desirable innovatioh at the time. It had not seemed so to their elders. Of course, there had been then no modern conveniences in the Wither- bee house. This, with its size, had made it difficult to rent then. Now. with all improvements, it did seem as it nice people might be taken for granted. Nevertheless, Elton Helghts wor- ried and wouid continue to worry un- til the hoped-for nice people moved in. “There were some people out to see the Witherbee house today"—so most any Elton Heights wife would inform her hero, home from the wars, most any night. “And oh, John, I do hope they won't take it! The woman—I wish you could have seen her. She was perfectly impossible. Sixty if she was a day—and she had on one of those new sleeveless flannel sport suits in orange and a hat that was supposed to match and didn't.” EE THIS sort of conversation was much in evidence in the Heights during And inevitably, as Colgate Bromley spent much of his time there, he was conversant with the community crisis of which the Witherbee house was the crux. “Why don't you all club together and buy 1t?" was his first suggestion. “Unfortunatelv none of us has the spare cash,” Kay's father replied, try- ing to keep his voice amiable. “Well—there must be something you can do,” persisted Bromley. “What?' sked Kay's father, mild. 1y enough. Yet there was a challenge in his voice. o strove Then: “Listen,” phantly. They listened. And if Kay's father a1d not think much of the plan he at least kept the fact to himself until he and Kay" filed exceptions then, but was prompt- ly overruled. hink it's a perfectly gorgeous he concluded. “And so will everybody else. Everybody else did. They chuckled over it—and were strong for it. “I've got a cornet up In the attio,” recalled Theodore Norton, 1st. “I haven't used it since—" “Not since we all got together and threatened to tar and feather you,” Charley Emerson assured him. “It was no worse than that har- ‘monica you used to imitate bird trills on,” Theodcre Norton, 1st, retorted. “I wonder where that is” replied Charley Emerson, unabashed. “My boy John has been howling for a_saxophone,” contributed Ed Hickoks. “I'll be hanged if I don’t get him one.” And so they discussed the great plan and agreed upon the campaign. Through all this Ted was away, off on a trucking job that had taken him to Philadelphia. He came back over the road of a Saturday night, put up his truck and was on his way home on as peaceful a Sabbath morning as Derr Bromley himself realized. He desperately for inspiration. he commanded trium- mother were alone. He | May, mistress of the achleved. Peaceful, that is, until he came to within earshot of the Heights. “Good Heavens!” he gasped then. “What's struck everybody?" The real estate agent who was han- dling the Witherbee house was asking himself the same question. He had returned to the house, bringing with him the lady who, though 60 if a day, persisted in wearing the orange sport §u1k with the hat that didn't matoh. She had been favorably enough ime pressed with the house and neighbor- hood to draw her husband away from hl" Sunday papers to see it. ‘A good, quiet, thoroughly Ameri- can neighborhood,” the agent had s sured her husband. “And you couldn’ ask for better neighbors—— The Nortons spied them first. Ted's father grabbed his cornet while his wife rushed to the phone, a feminine Paul Revere arousing the neighbor- hood. The cornet opened the action with massacre. The second-hand saxophone that had been bought for John Junlor came up in full force immediately. Every household contributed Some- thing toward the musical barrage laid down against the invaders. “Great Bcott!” exclaimed the star- tled husband of the lady in the orange sport suit. “Did they say this was a quiet neighborhood?" * x %k ¥ (OF THE purpose of all this Ted had had no inkling. The real estate agent and his prospeots had vanished when he arrived In sight of the With- erbee house, but the neighborhood was still going full tilt. In the meantime, the month was May, the morning warm. The win- dows of the Elton house were open. Ted glimpsed Kay at the piano. He ascended the Elton path and broke in upon her, without preface or apology. “I thank you,” sald he, “from the bottom of my heart." “For what?" she demanded. or this remarkable, this gratify- ing demonstration of my neighbors' regard for me. I realize that the con quering hero, returning to the scenes of his youth, is more customarily met at the station with a brass band But you were handicapped. You have no station, no brass band. You dld your best. I thank you! Kay paused in her playing to re- gard him scornfully. “It's too bad,” she remarked, “that it didn't drive you off, too!" “Drive me off? I am naturally quick of wit, but there is something in that remark that is beyond me. I am—I admit {t—baffled. Explain, please.” And Kay explained “I might have suspected it he said, when she finished. “Bromley has—"' “Oh, go home and change your clothes!" she broke in rudely. 5 should think you'd be ashamed of vourself, looking as you do, on a Sunday. And as he let that pass, regarding her meditatively, she added. “Well, what great thought are you thinking now?" “That you might do worse than powder your nose,” he replied. And as Bromley's roadster came to a stand still outside he added, “I advise you to make it snappy—the pride of Man hattan has arrived.” With which he withdrew, departing by the back door. Outside he encoun- tered Kay's father. “Greetings,” said Ted, blithel “Why aren’t you giving three cheer: for that wonderful plan?” The older man emitted an inarticu- late rumble. “You're jealous!” chided Ted. “You must be, or else you'd admit that it was eimply unprecedented. Worthy of Colgate Derr Bromley at his best.” “G-rr!” said Kay's father—or some- thing that sounded remarkably like that, anyway. “If that's the way you feel about 1t,”” Ted remarked, “I suggest we take a little walk. I would have word with thee.” They walked. Tndeed, it was not un- til dinner was on the table that Kay's father reappeared. Colgate Derr Bromley was present, wearing his honors modestly. “Well,” announced Kay's father with a geniality that his wife ap- proved, “that plan of yours is cer- tainly a corker.” *ox ok % AND so it seemed. The men de- parted, perforce, to Boston every morning during the week that follow- ed, but their woman folk rose to each and every crisis that presented itselt nobly. They proved again that the female of the species is as deadly as the male. The real estate agent who was handling the Witherbeen house at first approached it with his pr pects wearing a nervous and furtive air, and, finally, from Thursday through to the following Sunday, he appeared not at all. On that Sunday morning Ted called to pay his disrespects to Kay. “Looks to me as if you'd scared everybody off,” he commented. “Isn't that hard on the Randalls?” “It would be harder on us if some- body simply impossible took the house. I “To arms!” Ted broke in. *Here comes the real estate agent again. And look who's with him!” Kay looked. And looked simply stunned. Than which no better de- art, aver | scription of the latest prospects of the Witherbee house could be con- trived. And the Helghts shared her feel- ings. Its efforts that Sabbath morn- SHE STRUGGLED WITH ALL THE STRENGTH SHE POSSESSED, YEI WAS POWERLESS, £ TED GLANCED AT BROMLEY. “WERE YOU ABOUT TO SAY SOMETHING?” HE ASKED, COURTEOUSLY. ing achieved new heights in volume, if not in melody. But the invaders, 80 far from retreating, disembarked and proceeded into the Witherbee house apparently unmoved. “‘Perhaps they are deaf mutes,” con- tributed Ted. It seemed as it they must be. Any- way, a first premonition of defeat ran through the Heights. “Elther I'm no judge of the human countenance or that real estate agent has made a sale,” reported Ted from the window. “And here comes Brom- ley—and here goes me.” He departed. Presently Kay and Bromley, to whom her greetings proved a shade perfunctory, saw him join the group on the Witherbee lawn. When this group had been wedged back into the real estate agent’s car he returned. “They—they gasped Kay. “‘They have!” he replied. “I've got the job of ‘moving their stuff here for them.” “You're joking!” she proteste “Even 1,” he assured her, “realize that this is no time for joking. We stand on the threshold of a new era in Elton Heights. The Six Musical McSweeneys will move in tomorrow.” “The six who?" “Never let them hear you ask such a question. To ask them who the Six Musical McSweeneys are is like asking Paderewskl if he ever took plano lesson: “You mean that they are—are pro- fessional musicians?” “Bright girl! Practice and let prac- tice is their creed.” “What do you mean ‘Musiclans " must practice. Some narrow-minded neighborhoods would resent this. But here they fmd them- selves in a congenial atmosphere.” Ted paused and glanced at Bromley. “Were you about to say something?" he asked courteously. —no,” managed Bromley. T thought you might be,” explain- ed Ted. "“As it was your plan—" Kay colored with {ndignation. “Who would h: reamed it would turn out this way?"” she asked with some reason. “I didn’t exactly dream it,” Ted re- plied. “but I did wonder what would happen if some people who preferred a noisy, lively community should ar- rive in the midst of one of our musical festivals.” He bowed ceremoniously. first to Kay, who glared at him, and then to Bromlev. who hardly saw him. Brom- ley, in fact, was like a boxer who has recently suffered a knockout and is still wondering what it is all about. “Good morning,” added Ted, and ‘went about his own affairs. haven't taken 1t?” ox % x % NOW of these affairs Elton Helghts knew almost nothing. For a young man, who admittedly talked a lot, Ted was, in some respects, singularly close-mouthed. And so it was that the neighbor- hood got a supplementary surprise when, the next morning, two large vans bearing the worldly possessions of the Six Musical McSweeneys drove up and proceeded to disgorge their contents upon the Witherbee walk. Now, there are few neighborhoods anywhere so well-bred and so self-con- tained as not to taken an interest in somebody else’s household goods when fate and a moving van combine to ex- pose them to view. One might think that there being no more pitiable sight imaginable than a heterogeneous mass of unhappy looking furniture piled up on a sidewalk—all furniture looking unhappy under such conditions—a good Samaritan would hurry by, averting his gaze. But there are few Samaritans as good as that in this world, and none at all in Eilton Heights. _ The two vans that brought the goods of the Bix Musical McSweeneys were large and highly varnished. Emblazoned across their broad ex- panse on either side was a legend for all the world to read, to wit: RILEY AND NORTON LONG DISTANCE TRUCKING. Norton? The Helghts gasped. Could it be possible? But conjecture as to the possible was cut short by the incredible. The furniture of the newcomers began to appear. The Heights had never seen its like. It looked like a second-hand dealer’s nightmare. “I should think,” announced Kay's mother, “that even Ted Norton would have had more decency than to have any part in bringing such stuff into his own neighborhood.” But Ted was bereft of any such fineness of fiber. He drove one of the vans himself. It was he who directed the operations of the men who accompanied him. “Those must be their musical in- suggested Mrs. Charley Emerson, who shared a window in the Elton house—a preferred vantage point—with Kay’s mother. “Gracious, haven't they a lot of them?! They had. And they brought other’ more portable instruments with them when they appeared in full force while the moving-in process was still under way. The head of the family, a big man with a sweeping black mustache, paused to confer with Ted, ;t‘:cc‘:-muuly—dnpped him on the Ted, driving away, was absent from the Heights until that soft May night, when he dropped in informally upon Kay, and even more informally took his de ure. Nevertheless, he continued home- ward with spirits appare undamp- ened. At home he found father waiting for him, clad in bath robe and carpet slippers. Theodore Norton, 1st, was not given nominally to self-asser- son, He was one of those for whose better description the phrase ‘“‘easy- going” was first coined. Which, as his wife pointed out, was why Ted acted as he did. ou've never put your foot down,” she had sald. This was very natural after the tactful reassurances she had received that everybody realized it was not her fault that Ted himself moved the Six Musical McSweeneys iInto their midst. This reassurance had, In every case, been followed by a question. “The vans had Riley and Norton painted on them—does the Norton re- fer to Ted “I haven't the slightest idea,” she had confessed. “Naturally, we have never cared to discuss Ted's work with him, it being our hope that in time he would settle down to some. thing worth while.” But she intended to have his father discuss Ted's work with him forthwith. * * % . ND so it was that Ted's father waited. “So, you're back,” he began, by way of preface. “The prodigal returns,” acknowl- edged Ted. “Any husks in the ice chest?"” “I don't know,” sald his trying to look stern. ‘I—"' “Let's take a look-see,” suggested Ted. “I want to speak to you,” his father persisted, desperately. “Trail along, then—I can eat and talk 100,” Ted replied. From the ice chest provender, then turned father. “Shoot!” he invited. His father cleared his throat. “Look here, Ted,” he said, but in a tone that sounded more like a plea than like a foot being put down, “Who does Norton on those vans stand for?" “Me,” sald Ted, creating a roast beef sandwich for himself. “Riley and I went into partnership about a year ago. ‘You never told me anything about father, he extracted toward his it ‘Never thought you seemed par ticularly interested.’’ This his father ignored. *A full partnership?” he asked. o ;'X_'h-huh,“ said Ted, between mouth- uls. “What did it cost you—and where did you get the money?” “I didn't put in money— just brains.” “What “You don't sound flattering. But— well, Riley is getting along. I'd been supplying most of his ideas and get- ting the bulk of his business for him and I didn't see why he should get all the profit. I put it to him straight—that I'd go in for myself as a competitor or stay with him on a fifty-fifty basis. He kicked like a steer at first, but presently he saw light. Which was that.” re—are you making any money?” “Nothing but. We've been putting most of it back into the business so far, but I think this yvear we'll take some profit. Probably ten thou. aplece—" “Ten thousand—aplecs echoed his father, incredulously. oving furni- ture!” Ever since college he had been with one concern, the Supreme Concrete Block Co. He was now its treasurer, which sounded very well. But he re- celved, actually, twenty-six hundred a year—and he knew he would never get more. “I—I don’t understand,” he added, weakly. He meant not Ted's statement, but life’s riddle. But Ted took him lit- erally. “‘Oh, Riley was a furniture mover when I went to him, but that’s only a side line now. I picked him out because he had two trucks, but no eye for business, and I pointed out to him that the money nowadays was in stealing the railroad’s business— transporting freight by truck, that is. A truck hasn’t the railroad's overhead and it's quicker and cheaper in every way, when everything is figured in.” He hauled a loose-leat memorandum book from his pocket and handed it over. “Those are figures just compiled on our truck with dump bodies after a year’s use,” he explained. ‘‘They haul stuff mostly around Boston—bulk ma- terial, ashes, cinders, sand and brick- = “You have trucks for such busi- ness, too?” SO “Branching out all the time, Have to. Long-distance trucking is all right now, but something may crab it. Higher taxes on trucks, for in- stance. I put this new line up to Riley—that's my part of the partner- ship, making him more money than he’d ever made alone—and so we trie it out. Take a squint at the figures. * ok ok K 'ED'S father glanced at the book he held. The page was closely filled with figures. {ou seem to have figured it all out,” he admitted, dazedly. What— what is the yearly profit per truck?” “Four thousand sixty-four,” replied Ted, promptly. ‘“Want any more figures?” “I—guess that's enough for now. But—what made you think of truck- ing in the first place?” “Oh, I'd heard there was money in it and—" Ted hesitated. Then: ‘“Well, to tell you the truth it seemed to me that everybody here at the Helghts was in a squirrel cage—go- ing all the time, but getting no- where. You're all doing work you don’t car a hoot about and you're not any of you making an awful lot of money—' “Money isn’t evervthing, Ted!" protested his father. 3 1 baven't seen many people giving it away, just the same. Anyway, I couldn’t see myself marrying and settling down the same way. In fac if I'd taken a white collar job I'd be in no position to marry now . “You aren't thinking of gettings married?” broke in his father, startled. “You sald it Ted assured him. His father gasped. The {sn’'t a New York girl, Ted?" Ted grinned. “I've been in New York quite a lot in that connection lately,” he ad- mitted. “But that's neither hers nor there. I'm tired. Mind if we ad- journ?” And his father retired, not to bed, but to report to the wife of his bosom “What?” she gasped, as he told her what he had learned. But by morning she had recovered After breakfast she went over to the Eltons', ostensibly to borrow an egg, but actually for a purpose quite different. ““Oh, about that Norton on the mov- ing vans,” she remarked, altogether too casually, “It stands for Ted. He and Riley are equal partners and Ted's doing very well. He'll make at least ten thousand this year—" ‘Which was {nexcusable, but the way mothers will talk. Kay’s mother rallied nobly. “T'm so glad,” she announced, sweetly, “that he’s doing so well. It must be such a relief to you.” “I'm afraid, though,” added Ted's mother, ignoring the thrust, “that we are going to lose him soon. He's en- gaged to a New York girl—very beautiful and talented.” “I suppose he'll live In New York, then,” cooed her adversary. ‘“You will miss him, of course—yet if I had a son I should want him to go there. So many opportunities, you know. Why, Mr. Bromley has often made ten thousand overnight.” And they call them the subtle sex! | E T B VERTHELESS, the honors were, on the whole, with Ted's mother. The Heights revised its estimate of Ted and even forgave him his part in the bringing of the Six Musical Mc- Sweeneys to its anything but recept- ive bosom. After all, it was, the men admitted, all in a day’s work. And Ted certainly had an eye for busi- ness—no recent discovery on their part; they had suspected that all along, to hear them talk. As for the neighborhood curse, responsibility for that was placed whers it belonged. “It's all young Bromley's fault,” they agreed, ignoring their own accla- mation of his plan and participation therein. “That's the trouble with those New Yorkers. They're so darn slick that they overreach themselves. Lot of hot alr when you come right down to it!" . ‘Which had, on Kay, exactly the ef- fle:é that the wise would have prophe- sled. Ever since Bromley had appeared, Kay's apparent indifference had per- plexed her mother. Now this all changed with a suddenness that took her mother's breath away. Kay, who had literally held a most desirable suitor at arm'’s length, now—if only metaphorically—took him to her breast. He was, after all, her possession. As such, she refused to have him be- littled. ‘Women have, indeed, married men on no greater provocation. As for the news of Ted’s approach- ing marriage, her reaction to that was revealed by a suggestion of sarcasm that unfortunately crept into even her felicitations to him—if felicitations they could be called. These were delayed in delivery by another absence on his part. But presently he reappeared, again of a Sunldng' morning. - ear you're gof to t mar- ried,” she sald at o;{:. . “Might as well and get it over with,” he replied, in the modern manner. “I suppose you think she's the most wonderful creature in the worlar “Hardly that! But she has her points. . . . Speaking of marriage, when am I to be privileged to throw rice at you—and possibly an old trench shoe at Bromley?" Kay gave him a swift, curious glance. Then she shrugged her shoulders. “Why should a girl marry?” she demanded. “It's only a form of slavery.” “Perhaps you are right! If so, I hope I get a good slave. I'm afrald you're the sort that would be thrown over the cliff in a bag.” And giving her no chance to make the obvious reply, he added: “Guess I'll go over and see what new improvement the McSweeney’s have added on. They're certainly blossoming out these days, aren’t they?"” The McSweeneys were. The With- erbee house had been undergoing renovation. ‘There were rumors of much paint- ing inside and even of the installation of a second bath—unheard-of luxury, so far, for the Heights. Outwardly the changes were ap- parent to all. A sun porch had been added, the house painted a glistening white, the old blinds were replaced with new green shutters, solid save for a crescent, which gave the house a smart appearance. The lawns had been seeded and new shrubbery set here and there, most effectively. The Heights was revising its esti- ;uu of a vaudeville troupe’s earn- Ings. “I suppose they make fifteen or twenty thousand a year, at that,” re- marked Charley Emerson, thought- " Yei there was something queer t it. This his w But why,” she d bother to make it so that horr e furn No one could guess the a that riddle. The McSweene played no interest In their 1 and naturally nobody called upon hem. Nobod is, save Ted, wha had always had a wide acqu among strange sorts of who had struck up a n ship w e in on in on the This St toward the M intercepted him. “All set?” he asked mysterious] retorted weeney’s, Kay's fa “Keep your eyes peeled,” d. ok here, Ted,” sald Kay's fatl er. “I'm strong for you—but aren't you afraid you're overplaylng your hand. Kay——" “I've got the makings of a straight,” Ted admitted, “with one card short, I'm taking a chance on the drawg that’s all.” And he went on to the McSweeney's, followed by the older man's anxious eyes. Presently he and McSweeney emerged from the Witherbes house. Kay, who expected Bromley and was presumably watching for him, saw Ted slap his companion on the back with what seemed to her an excess of * good fellowship. * % e T IS phenomenon she had nd chance to consider further, for Bromley and his roadster came into sight. As she had promised to take a ride with him she went upstairs to get her hat. She was not, therefore, among those who saw Ted desert McSweeney and cross over to greet Bromley Nevertheless, the meeting of the two was not without spectators, Among these was Kay's father, who alone was not taken by surprise bg what followed. “Morning,” sald Ted. “Would you mind removing your plates from my car?” . “What?” replied Bromley uncom~ prehendingly. “Listen!” suggested Ted “*Listen . You paid $100 down on this car last December. You've never paid any more. The man you bought it from has been looking for you. He was afrald he'd been stung. 1 set his mind at rest on that point by taking the car off his hands—and, mind, I've got a bill of sale. Now, as I said in the beginning, please re- move your license plates from my —won't,”” spluttered Bromley. You can go—" 9 “You will,” intervened Ted softly} “or else—" There he paused. His eyes wers mild, suggesting whimsy rather than unspoken manace. His hands were thrust carelessly in his pockets. He stood as he customarily moved, with a suggestion of leisured grace. And yet Bromley licked lips sud. denly gone dry, and decided to remove his license plates. “I'll drive you as far as the car line,” said Ted when he had finished, And, with no change of expression, added: “Oh, let’s not argue about it! And so, while the Heights watched with open mouths—an open mouth being presumably a valuable aid to eyesight—the two drove away to. gether. “I was interested enough in you and your spectacular success,” ex. plained Ted, as they negotiated the corner, “to call at the Copley Plaza. They told me you only received your mail there, so that proved a blind alley. But I had the number on your license plates, and the next time I got to New York I investigated frofn that angle. Were you about to say anything?” Apparently Bromley was not. “I discovered,” Ted went on, “that you were a clerk in a brokerage office --bucket, I believe. You cleaned up somewheres around $10,000 in a pool with two of your fellows. Since then you've been stepping wide, high and handsome. Now-—but there's a car gnmiinx I'm afraid you'll have to run or_it.” Even go, Ted had a chance to, in a manner of speaking, say good-bye to m. “I'll carry your regrets to every body and explain your sudden depar- ture,” he promised. “You needn't bother to even write. In fact, take my advice—and don’t.” & * % % J¥ the meantime, Kay had returned to the Elton's living room. “Why, where's Mr. Bromley? she, asked of her father. “He drove off with Ted,” replied her father. ““What do you mean?” “Here's Ted now—ask him,” sug- gested her father, withdrawing hastily. » “What did you do with Mr. Brom- ley?" demanded Kay. “From your tone one might think I had kidnaped and foully murdered 4 him,” Ted protested plaintively. “Ae- tually he was—er, unavoidably called away. But before leaving he very kindly turned his car over to me 8o that you and I could go out and see l‘;h house I've bought for my bride to e. she retorted, “have no inten- tion of golng anywhere with you.” “I asked you politely—but I'm pre- 2d to use force if necessary.” “You just try it!” she flashed. ‘The next moment she was in hi arms. She struggled with all th strength she possessed. vet was pow- (Coutinued on Sixth e