Evening Star Newspaper, September 14, 1930, Page 100

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, SEPTEMBER: 14, 1930. “Pull your hat down over your. left-ear a little more, kid. Awfully glad you could come this evening. 1 picked you for a good little sport.” T WAS a “blind date” Dotty was going / on. Not that she liked “blind dates,” / nor Mazie Killgore, who had arranged # this one. But she was so terribly lonely. She couldn't show how blue she was, because a stock girl at Klein's has to keep smiling—and keep moving—or lose her job. And Dotty couldn’t lose that job. The job was what kept the city, with all its roar and bustle, from swallowing her up entirely. Sev- snteen dollars a week isn't exactly enough to show you a lot of big town night life, either. ° Dotty’s years on her grandmother’s farm in the country had put the roses in her cheeks so thoroughly that the long hours in the store couldn’t drive them away, Better than the best rouge, Dotty’s color was; and the way her hair purled around her small ears couldn't be copied by the best permanent in town. Doity was only 18. : She hadn't really any friends among the girls in the store—too standoffish, they said. So when Magzie, in the dressing room at lunch time, said, “‘Say, Dotty, a gentleman friend of mine is in town and wants me to go out danc- ing this evening. He has a man with him who hasn’t a girl. Want to com2?” Dotty had said yes. Mazie worked in the sports department. She bad red hair that used to be black. And usual- ly she didn't even see Dotty. She had a lot »f girl friends in the store who were always standing around and talking over their dates— (“He said to me—and I said to him, go on, big BOy—=") “All right, kid,” said Mazie. “Meet ine here at closing time. They're meeting us at the cor- pner. J—er—1I want to tell you about this fellow who is my friend before we start.” The door slammed on Mazie. Helen Sims— hosiery—cast a satirical eye after her. “Oh, yeah?” she queried. And then, to Dotty, “Take a little advice from momma, kid. Mazie has some deep, dark reason for asking you tonight. Watch it, lady, watch it.” DOTI‘Y ran the comb through her hair, and sort of wished she hadn’'t said yes, and sort of wondered herself—oh, well, if Mazie had some plot she would know soon enough—and she was so darned lonely. At five-thirty Mazie lingered till' the other piris had snatched their coats and hats and thottered off. Then she explained the date to Doity—and Dotty saw why she hadn't asked any of her own friends on the party. MafN jocized Dotty over. “2yll your hat down over your left ear a littie more, kid. That's the way—get a little more swagger in it. I'm awfully glad you could some this evening, because I picked you for a gocd little sport. You see, this man—well, I mei him last summer, and he’s sort of a swell, He has a yacht down on the Jersey shore now, and he's been in Florida all winter, “And he—well, I'll tell you, Doti,, you can’t ell a fellow like that you're only a salesgirl. Aud 1 didn't. Said I was the head buyer for tho store. - Now he turns up with this friend and wants me to bring another girl along, and I know I can’t trust any of the others to keep my storv for me. But you will, won't’ you, Dotiy? I'm the head buyer, see? I've been in Paris this winter, for Klein's. And you-—you fion't mind saying you are my secretary, do you>” Dotty smiled. It was perfectly harmless, and rather funny. “No, Mazie, 1I'll be your secrctary. Was I in Pavis, too?” “No--you stayed right here. I don’t think pou'd go so good on the Paris stuff. And— would you mind calling me ‘Miss Killgore’ for the 7ening?” it was "“Miss Killgore and secreiary” who met the two men on the corner of Fortizth and P, “Miss Killgore” had a good deal of Maniner. 1, good evening, Mr. Cort. ‘This is dcr u!. I thought after ypu__‘phpmq ".'.u}.t you . BY MARY CHASE. A New Man, a White Liec, a Lost Job and Twelve Horses Figure in This Unusual Little Story of Carnival Romance. And the Story Will Hold the Reader to the Very L.ast. might both just as well have waited in my >ffice at the store. Though we were quite -ushed at the last minute—a style conference, 7know. This is my secretary, little Miss Hale. Mr. Cort and Mr.—" THE TALL young man with the sunburned face supplied the name, as he shook Dotty’s hand in a firm grasp. 2 “Pelder, Donald Pelder. How do you do?” Mr. Cort was older, fatter and, if anything, browner than Pelder. He offered his arm to Mazie, and the other two followed. “WE MUST look like a pair of Indians to you. That Florida sun certainly burns you up, doesn't it, Donald?” preity busy—but I did gt to the races a lot.” “Talk to Donald, Nothing he loves like see- ing them go around, is there Donald?” The young man, who had been rather silent, grinned. ! “Yes,” he said, “I love the horses.” “Oh,” breathed Mazie, “do you follow the races?” “No, I—" Mr. Cort interrupted him. “Donald owns his own horses. Twelve of 'em. Beauties. Horses to be proud of.” “Racers, Mr. Pelder?” “Yes, they're racers. I've had them in Flor- ida all winter, and now we are at Bound Beach for the summer.” “Well, it must be a wonderful life. My work is interesting, of course, but I often wish I Nlustrations by Dorothy Urfer. The merry-go-round halted. big horse race! Let the children ride these wild Arabian steeds.” “All right, folks, just geiting ready for the next The tall figure on the platform caught Dotty’s eye—something familiar. He led the way into a restaurant, and as they seated themselves Mazie put in a little travel talk herself. “Yes, the sun and air are a great combina- tion. I myself was guite burned when I got back from France—lying out on the deck in my chair, all ‘the way over and back. Wasn't I, Miss Hale?” “Yes, indeed,” said Dotty loyally” “But it— it was very becoming to you, and to all those lovely clothes you “brought back.” She thought that was pretty good, and so did Mazie, evidently, for she gave her fur collar an extra tweak. “See much of Paris life while you were there?” inquired Mr. Cort. “Oh, yes, it was marvelous! The—ah— the theqters, apq. thegel, Of 0TS 1. Was didn’t have to be in my office every day.” (“I'll bet you do!” thought Dotty.) ¢ LL DURING dinner very high-class talk whirled around the fable, led by Mazie. Little stories about Cort's yacht, and Mazie's foreign business connections (the Frenchmen are so attractive, don’t you think?), and de- scriptions of Pelder’s horses—the brown thor- oughbred, the gray Arabian, and all the rest of them. Dotty was not so chatty, but at the right places she sald, “Yes, indeed, Miss Kill- gore,” and really enjoyed the whole business a great deal. After the excellent dinner, a movie. And after that a night club of a glittering kind. The music was wonderful. The floor was glass, and Donald Pelder was the best dancer Dotty Pelder’s nice blue eyes became really serious. “Look here, I want to tell you something. This party was a sort of @ lark, but 5 had ever met. They swung 10 the rhythm as if they had practiced together for months. And soon they talked as if they had known each other for years. In fact, Dotty found herself so much at ease with him that she found it hard to remember that she was Miss Killgore's secretary, and not just the stock girl in chil- dren’s wear. BUT Mazie was making headway with Mr. Cort, the boating man; from all signs, and Doity felt that she must stay with the mas- querade. She could see that Mazie's intentions toward that yacht were serious, and that only a little persuasion on the part of the owner would convince Miss Killgore that she could really bear to give up her job as head buyer. Dotty and Pelder sat out the last dance, while Mazie and Cort circled to the latest Irv- ing Berlin moan. Suddenly Pelder’s nice blue eyes became really serious. “Look here, Miss Hale, I want to tell you something before Cort and Miss Killgore come back. This party was sort of a—lark. But— well, I didn't know a girl like you was likely to turn up. I'd like to see you again. Only— you see T'd like to explain—" Just what he was going to explain at this point Dotty never knew. At this second Mazie and Cort joined them, and there was the bustle of departure and the verbal struggle which Mazie put up by insisting that she and “her secretary” would go home alone, together in the taxi. S “My mother is so particular, you know. And #t's just over on East Fiftieth. I said I was going to a cencert—I so seldom do this kind of thing.” : (“She’s telling the truth there!” thought Dotty.) So they parted at the curb, Mazie all aristo- cratic languor—“and call me again ‘soon, Mr. Cort.” Dotty and Pelder exchanged a look as the taxi door slammecd. She wished she would see him again—but if he knew she was only a stock girl, and that the whole evening was a bluff—her last sight of him was standing on the sidewalk, his curly, bare head towering above the crowd. Once around the corner Mazis stopped the cab briskly, paid the quarter, and started to- ward the subwyay entrance. Her mother, up in Harlem, “probably wouldn't be in the least sur- prised, no matter what hour she got home. “Gosh, I'm tired,” she yawned. “You did great, Dotty. I'm making headway with that fellow. How was your horse friend?” 7 “All right. Good night, Mazie. Thank you.” “G’night.” . For several weeks the memory of Donald Pel- der—his quick, warm smile, his handsome, sun- burned face, his general air of health and well- being, haunted Dotty. If only she could some- how see him again. But what was the use— she might as well forget about it. And she tried to. Mazie didn’t seem over friendly, and then one day she wasn't at Klein's any more. There were whispers of an imported dress from her department having mysteriously disap- peared. And Dotty's only chance of seeing Donald left with her. A drenching June rain- gave Dotty b:onchitis, and for two weeks she was miserably sick in her Jonely little room. She dragged herself back to Klein's only to be told that her place had been filled. They were so sorry. This was the slacle® season. But in the Fall— 3 OTTY bumped into Mazie as she came out of the store. There was a harder look, a worn look, in the older girl's eyes. She was wearing a shoddy-looking dress that had been very gay once. “Had anything to eat, kid?” she asked Dotty. “Gee, you look like a ghost. Come on, 1 guess I can stake you to a chocolate malted, anyway. So you got fired?” She laughed in a hollow tone. “So did I. Great game, isn't it?” , Dotty went along with Mazie. Not because . Qontinued on Seventecnih Page + )