The Key West Citizen Newspaper, September 18, 1947, Page 9

ere eneeenreirren cman ee eens ene ae IN Chapter 2 BRUCE went to the telephone. Unexpectedly, T’nette’s voice came across the wire, “I'm at the Hammonds’, and you must come in right away,” was saying urgently. “It’s . she Nola’s baby. Bruce knew T’nette never got upset over things that did not matter “Give me fifteen minutes.” As he hurried through the dining room he called out: “Keep the home fires burning. Some- ’s gone wrong with Nola. T’nette’s there.” Bruce, a strange, heavy excite- ment growing in him, took the Canyon Road ‘to Beverly Hills in twelve minutes. Seven minutes more found him at the door of the Hammond place. T’nette met him. “I'm glad you’re here,” she said, catching hold of the lapels of his jacket. “I’ve already tele- oned the doctor and an ambu-]. e—and the hospital. But—” She looked up at him with com- te trust. ‘They needed you, ling. She led him into the bedroom. Nola, who was ten years older uddled up in a than Austin, lay h corter of the bed. “This is it,” Bruce said cheer-\ ing certain the }. fully to Nola, making old was right in place. “What we've been waitin what you’ve been wan ye g for ened,” Nola quavered. think one was, usually.” “It’s no light chore,” he said, “raising a young one these days, what with wicked swing factories like ours leading them down the rug-cuttin’ trail.” ou don’t have to try to cheer me up,” Nola smiled wanly.” One of her skinny hands made a piti- ful gesture that included Austin, herself, and the gaudy bedroom. “We just don’t seem to know how to do anything right.” The doorbell rang. Bruce an- swered, and let in the ambulance driver and attendant. “In here.” He helped the two men transfer Nola to the stretcher, accom- panied them to the ambulance; and before they closed her in, be said: “Everything’s going to be ali right. rll follow you to the hos- pital with Austin. And make them sound the siren all the way across he This baby has to have pub- city.” The ambulance was soon far up the street. Bruce turned back to- ward the apartment. T’nette was approaching with Nola’s overnight “Pl take this right down to Nola,” she said to Bruce. “You'll leave it where it is.” Impulsively he put his arms around her. “I’m sorry about that supper,” he apologized. “But the Sra necks arrived today—” t’s all right.” She put a soft hand against his mouth. “Give me a kiss and Ill hurry on to the hospital.” : _. “You'll hurry right back to En- tino. I'll take the bag to Nola, I can sleep tomorrow,” he said, “but Julie will have you up at dawn.” T’nette saw that arguing would do no good. She turned to get into her car; but his arms went around her again. : “I want a raincheck on you in that dress,” he said huskily, his lips against her ear. “One of these nights mighty soon—” for and ars.” “But I—I’m so horribly fright- ‘I didn’t OR MED ‘Frank: Riordan 4 OOD 25 vasrsnpnbe on THE KEY WEST CITIZEN sa DCI Nola lay huddled in a cbinér of the bed. AP Newsfeatures She clung to him. “Any time.”) know that she, too, was human; Their lips met. At last Bruce made himself let. her go. “Hurry home, woman,” he whispered. O T’nette drove back to Encino. She would, she supposed, be spending most of the following week at the hospital with Nola. “And there,” she commented to the dashboard,. “goes my week with Bruce.” A gloom of apprehension set- tled around her, and a lot of “if’s” circled in her mind. If Nola had been younger,. if her general health had been better, if the baby had ‘waited until it was due, When she reached Encino and turned into the driveway of the house she saw that ali the cars were gone. That helped a little. As she opened the door into the den she involuntarily gasped: “Sorry I startled you.” Lan- guidly Gail arose from the couch. “I thought I’d stay just in case Mrs. Lyons needed any oP with Julie. Besides,” Gail laughed with- out humor, “I forgot I did not have my own car.” “You can sleep in the spare room,” T’nette said as graciously as she could. “Did Bruce stay in town?” T’nette nodded. “He’s a great hand at helping everybody, i Viciously | isn’t he?” Gail threw the cigarette she ha been smoking into the cold fire- place. “If you’ll lend me a pair of pajamas, T’ll take you up on that offer of your spare bed. T’nette gave her pajamas and a housecoat; and later, alone in hér own room, crawled into bed. Re- membering the ruined supper party she wanted to weep with exasperation. All of them, includ- ing Bruce, thought she was so calm and so contained, when all the while she was a scared little rabbit trying to fit in with Bruce and his loony associates. How shocked they would be if just once she let go, if just once she yelled at all of them and let them A Tt wat she had emotions occasion- ally. But she could not do that. It was that deceptive outer calm of \ hers that Bruce: had: wanted. He had said so that night on Catalina Island. They had been lying on the beach below the pavilion where Bruce was pianist in the orchestra that had been playing there that summer. “You’ve got to marry me. You —you do something for me; you steady me, you—” “It’s a summer night,” she had told him. “It’s moonlight and we're on Catalina. You’ve three years yet of medical school. Three years,” she had repeated, her eyeg on the twinkling lights of Avalon Bay. “It isn’t such a long time” “Every summer I'll play: with some band—a band always can use a good pianist,” he had. ar- gued. “Through the winters I’ll carve my cadaver, I’ll learn about bacteria and germs—and memo- rize all Cushing and Christopher have to say about surgery.” A thin veneer of laughter had cloaked his suddenly steel tone. “I’m go- ing to_be the best surgeon on the est Coast, you know.” . He had caught her to him then in a fierce grip. “Without. you, by my side—to come home to at night, and,, may-~ be, to bélieve in me—without you * d|I’d never get anywhere. You've Now.” . en five years ago. * ; got to marr T’nette. That had rAnd just two weeks.after tueir marriage somebody had brought. Homer Gregg out from the Bev-* erly Wilshire Hotel. Surgery, T’nette felt, had lost a promising candidate. Sie . And on nights. like this one, when she was alone and unable to sleep, that hour on the beach came back vividly. She should have refused Bruce; she should have stalled unstil the fall semes- ter had commenced and he had become lost in his work. (To be continued) (Copyright 1947 by Frank Riordan) me, ‘eas cncdtenedaiiadh |noise at the front door and pound ;duced that the animal might re- a black bear pawing his way in.'turn to such good fare so he no- Bear Of A Burglar | The barracaded herself and the ‘tified park rangers and _ three Runs Into F B | child upstairs while the bear }days later the 300-pound animal e obs ruminaged about the kitchen eat- ,returned and was killed.’ GREAT FALLS,’ Mont.—(AP), ing sugar, biting open cans and —_—_—_—_—___———_ ~—-Mrs. Gene Fopp was alone with ' breaking a window before am- Penicillin was first isolated as her baby in her cabin at Glacier ; bling away. a brown powder in 1940 at Ox- National Park when she heard a! Fopp, an FBI agent, rightly de- | ford University. _-— — - ee eS OE A A A NSE a a ree oe “NEW LOOK” IN SARONGS HAT new “long look” in the fashion scheme of things is not confined to Milady, it seems, but ex- tends even to the sarong set. Things now have reached the stage where it is hard to differentiate between the sarong of today and the dresses that used to be. Here's how sarongs have changed: ¢ % FORERUNNER of sarongs was Gilda Gray’s grass skirt, which she wore in 1926, a mS, SARONG GIRL was Dorothy Lamour, who glorified it in “Jungle Princess” in 1936, “NEW LOOK” IN-SARONGS, as exemplified by Rhonda Flem- ing, in “Adventure Island.” vk