Evening Star Newspaper, November 29, 1929, Page 55

‘ THE EVENING STAR, WASHINGTO D. C, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1929. 55 SYNOPSIS. McFarland calls herself Rhoda whiie At the arnh:ii;t her father, wnose in " Pon ing to & tain that hel I3 fosls o ade "Arally ncmits that It 15, Her apartment is burglarized when she and . Babe Jennings. are absent. T " sh Stranger, Claire Cleveland, writes her, sa ing that her father as his death had certa; papers belonging to her (Claire). Rhoda says all her fath pers are in a sealed trunk in her a Claire scems to he ad inquiring as to s{m says tha believes it To b The “WOFE a’ r Rhoda that Fovster is Max's uncle. ‘When airiven home, the sealed trunk is sone. s at once to Clarie’s apartment, cer- Tain "hat the frunk is there. But it 180t She wishes she had listened to Martin when see Claire. “She had re- Sented his “advice and. 8150 his amazement the office -cupun aglitt w waiting tor €alled at RR h Rt Bave Deip ne wets it b-ck “but’ Rhoda_does ow this. She has followed Claire from her apartment to the hotel where Porster lives. Almost before she realizes what is happening she is shown into Fors- ter's apartment. FIFTEENTH INSTALLMENT. UDDENLY the door opened and Mr. Forster, supported by one of his canes and on the arm of the man in the blue serge suit, came into the room. He paused just inside the door for a sharp, faintly puzzled look at her, as if he’d expected his appearance to pro- duce some sensation that hadn’t come off. Then he gave away what had been in his mind by saying, “We've already met today, you see.” “Yes,” she answered, a little vaguely, “I know. The puzzle that had again come up s ly in her own mind was why he | should have taken her being here for granted. She couldn't talk to him, though, during his slow, progress toward the big ] assumed was his. After he was seated, he indicated the chair at the end of the desk as the one he wanted her to take. Then he said to his attendant, “That's all; you needn't wai Was it imagination on her part, or had he given that Olds as if he meant something special by it! “I _suppose you've beeu wondering why I sent for ynu " he said, when the man had left. So he’d sent for her, had he? at the office, thinking she'd receive it there. That pretty well disposed of her misgiving that she’d been lured into a | trap. If he'd contemplated anything like detaining her here against her will, he wouldn't openly have sum- moned her to his apartment. He thought she'd come in answer to his RHODA A Red-Headed Girl By Henry Kitchell Webster Copyright 1929, North American Newspaper Alliance snd Metropolitan Newspaper Service. n | earnestly. 'd ! to do something for | Most likely he'd left a message of some sort | summons. Well, it wouldn't do any harm for the thinking so. mt answer was merely a hesitating admis- sion that she had wondered what he'd 'lnhd of her. .eemndlllt.t.levutmltbythe way she it. “T n't want lny- thing of you at all” he “The only thing I ’v;nnt u you. This is going to be the best thing you ever did, com- ing to see me.” Her intention was to leok like a simple-minded child of 3 hearing about Santa Claus, but it was clear she wasn't much of an actress; for he added in- stantly: “You look as if you don't quite be- lieve that. Well, I don't won ter all the hard times you must have had.|s. But think now—didn't your father ever tell you anything about me?" That was the part at least of what Claire had been telling her at lunch was true. The question strung her mind to the highest pitch of alertness. She answered it 'S | with cautious vagueness. “I don’t know. He may have.” “Well of course,” he said, “you were a pretty small girl when I hired him. Let's see, how old were you?-—when you 1 California, I mean.” “Twelve,” she told him. “It was four years your father worked for me, and it's two since he died—six years. So you're 18 now. Well, well, a | fs "Nu she admitted, “I don't think he “x know about you, though,” he said. “I even saw you a few times out walk- ing with him in the park, and so on. 1 remember your red hair. That’s how recogn! you this morning. And I’m glad I found you at last. There have been times when I was about ready to give it up.” “Why were you so anxious to find me?” she asked. He seemed to regard the question as unnecessary, if not almost brutal. “Why?” he echoed. “Of course, I wanted to find you. I'd never have lost you if I hadn't been sick myself when your father died. I was a mighty good friend to your father. You might say I was the only one he had. He was connection, then—a|do young lady! And he never told you anything about me at all?” & fine man. Smart, too; there’s no denying that. Only not practical, and smartness don’t get you anywhere with- out that. “Still and all, I didn't complain. He'd have been working for me right now if he'd lived. So when I began to get better from my sickness and found out that his only child had gone off, nobody knew where, I felt bad about it and began looking for her. And now I have found you, it’s a load off my mind, you might say. “And what I want to tell you is that @ |you've found a friend. That’s the long and the short of it. I'm an old man— old enough to be your grandfather— and I'm still an old bachelor, without chick or child of my own. So I want you should feel you can come to me with any of your troubles; ask me for anything you want—within reason, taht “I can give you a better job than you've got. You could come here and secretary work for me. _Settle down and live right here, too. I mean that. ‘You can go home and pack your trunks and move in here this afternoon. The fact is, it would suit me if you did that very thing Rhoda hld to admit to herself that this was, intrinsically, a good plausible .| explanation of his search for her. She had, - as it proceeded, found herself wondering why she wasn't believing a ‘word of it. There was nothing about it she could disprove; there was only one thing she could confidently label as alse—and this wasn't logically very im- rtant, He'd spoken of having hired er father—by implication for some OPEN SATURDAY EVENINGS UNTIL 9 P. M. : “The talk of the Town” Crepe-Sole Oxford Special Women’s and growing - girls’ Genuino Cr-pe Calf, Elk and coln bination effects. Also leather soles. personally believe it was that, Was the addition made in simple instinctive thrift in the matter of truth telling or in mu:mmce o( her own interests? Had Rhoda's r been as near suc- CM the night hz dlzd as he believed he That would account for For- sterl lying about his job, for his be- littling it all he could. ‘There was a pqper then, lnd Forster knew it and had been t7 r nobody knew how long to get it dlnsllnl his bait in the classified columns of the newspapers, meaning when he had found her to play the benevolent grand- fatherly friend and steal it from her without ever letting her suspect her loss. But Claire knew about it, too, and Claire had found her first. Claire’s Best Purgative for permanent and not very important job, since his impracticality would alwa; keep him from getting anywhere. 8 the gemerous Mr. Forster had never complained, and her father 'ould suu have been working for him, if he had lived. She had known nothing of the nature of her father's actual labors during those four years, but she did remember the passion that had inspired them and the hope of sudden great fortune that had still been burning in him the. very night he died. He'd begged the doctor for enough of the drug to keep him going for a few hours more. Those memories couldn’t be reconciled with the sort of job this man was talking about. Why was he trying to make % look like that? Why couldn’t he have said “I financed some experiments that your father expected great things from, but they never came to anything.” That would make a better story. it would make him look more generous— and he was trying to look generous. It would saddle her with an obligation, at least to gratitude. ‘Well, then, why had he gone out of his way to lie about it? ‘l‘hnt was the question in her mind when he wound up his speech with the suggestion that she pack up her trunks and move into this palatial apartment of his this very | afternoon. the word “trunk” struck a spark from it. “It may be,” Claire had said at lunch | in discussing Forster's reason for ad- vertising for her, “that he thinks you've gnt some paper of your father’s that he ts,” but she’d added that she didn't plications, hastens recovery. Made by the Makers of KINGAN’S SLICED BACON tobacco it’s the blend- and t he fragrant Camels have always welcomed comparison with any other cigarette because, the true test of value is the pleasure to be found in smoking. ‘The most important thing for smokers to know is that genuine cigarette quality must begin with the selection of tobaccos. Nothing can take the place of quality tobacco. Thus the extraordinary goodness of Camels begins with the choicest tobaccos grown and these are blended with expert skill to achieve the mildness and surpassing fragrance of this great cigarette. It is this genuineness of quality which smokers appreciate when they have passed the expegimental stage and know real smoking pleasure. when they learn the difference they flock to SIm.I.l. Reynolds Tobaceo » Winston-Salem, N.C. Ca mels proba "’Zu"‘"’fi' the Beaehery of her y mul e ery of her | confederate, Mi Bu’ Forster hadn't M it, Elthfl'. or he wouldn't be sitting here her how kind he meant to be to hel’, urging her to go home and pack her trunks and come and make her home with him. She looked up at him now and found him staring at her with a look of con- sternation. “What's got into you?” “What are you thinking about all of a sudden? that?” “I was thinking,” she said, “that even ] | AMBASSADOR CAFETERIA Tempting dishes at moderate prices. 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