The Seattle Star Newspaper, March 19, 1923, Page 11

‘4 a we . _) be recognized me. THE GREEN-SUGAR PIG MONDAY, The BY E, PHILLI Copyright, 1922, by Arrgt. NUE nd " emaid, « hy ta stopped ind he het thru the shoulder, Janet received 200 pounds in bank notes from a mye- source sow GO ON WITH THE sToRY JANET CONTINUES: At five minutes to one, however, ‘even this condition was amended. A youth from the hall-porter's office put a package into my hand which had just been left by a messenger. opened it and found half a dozen familiar moroceo cases, A portion of the jewelry, which I had never thought te see again, was in my hands. It was now clear to me that my husband had either already re. turned or was on the point of doing a0, and that my help was needed. Nevertheless three days went by without a sign or message from any- body, three days during which I lived after the fashion of a cat, curled up in warmth and luxury, clinging to the feel of my clothes, reveling In the perfumes of my bath, eating good food and drinking wine with slow but careful appreciation, I felt the life revive in mo, thé blood flow once more thru my veins. During those three days nothing In this world would have driven me Pack to my poverty. I would have committed almost any crime rather than return to it cee On the fourth day I met Norman Greyen I was leaving a hairdreas- er’s ‘2 Curzon street when he round- ed the corner of Clarges street, car Trig a bag of golfclubs and evi- dently looking for a taxicab. I was ‘within @ foot or two of him before T was conscious MARCH 19, 1923 of Death Winds PS OPPENHEIM KE, Phillips Oppenheim A. Service, Ino, Jot & Keen and peculiar thrill of pleasure as I saw something flash into his stern, unimpressive fact. | Evemies tho we were, he was glad to see me, Good morning, Sir Norman;" I said, holding out my hand. “Are | there no more criminals left In the| | World, that you take a holiday?” | He smited, and put his clubs thru| | the open window of @ taxicab whic had just drawn up by the side of the eurb, “Lam tired of hunting criminals, he confessed, “Besides, they a turning the tables. They are hunt ing mo," “Indeed? 1 wOuNKe as tho j coming back.” |_ “There are rumors of it,” he ad-| Answered, = “That my husband were mitted. “Are you staying here?" “Tam living at Court,” I told him. “Why not have} me watched? If he does come back, | Tam sure I am one of the first peo. ple he would want to visit.” “Itt a wonderful idea” he agreed, with pecullar gleam in his | keen gray «: “I would rather bribe you, tho, to give him up.” “How much?" I asked. “He has treated me very badly lately.” | “Dine with me tonight,” he sug-| gested, “and we will discuss it.” “T shall be charmed,” I assented | boldly, | “At my rooma” he suggested, “Number Thirteen. About eight o'clock “Why not @ restaurantY’ I asked. “Out of consideration for you,” he replied promptly, “You are probably | more or less watched, and your) movements reported to the organi zation of which your husband ts the chief. If you are aeen dining alone with me in a pubfic place, they may Imagine that you have come over to} the enemy,” “You are most thoughtful,” I re pited, with all the sarcasm tn my tone which I could command. “T will come to your rooms, then.” Ho nodded pleasantly, raised his “Hello,” grunted @ green. “4, 1 said, ‘T've got a horse I'll bet can beat her. Tell you what I'll do, I'll bet you,’ then I began to name over what would be the equivalent of about a thou- sand dollars in cattle, ‘that my horse can beat yours on a@ half- mile run.” “Why, Al,’ he said (you can call me Al for the story), ‘It's like stealing money from you! You mean it?" “‘T mean ft,’ I sald.” “Well, the pioneer went on with his horse race story, “I went home and looked my horse over and felt like considerable kinds of @ fool. “Two Canyon Maid had points that my horse couldn't hold a candle to, and I knew it. But I'd seen them both run and neither of ‘om had ever been beaten and T was still anxous to give my horse @ chance, “I spent all my spare time get- ting my horwe in training. I took extra care of him in every way, And every day I'd start him at the barn, and run him for all he ‘was worth to @ tree half a mile away, “Some days he'd run like a streak, and then some days weomed an it he was going to got stubborn and lose me my $1,000 worth of rtock, pig. “The o the mornin’ to you both” a ‘and sure {f I aid I wouldn't mind a crooked button or two.” “But don’t you see? explained Nancy. “When the buttons are on crooked they won't go Into the but- ton holes and the Gingerbread Man gota upset. As he le boss of Sugur- Plum land, It upsets everybody else, too, because he makes silly laws.’ “That's too bed," said Pat Green Sugar Pig. “But don't let's worry, T'll tell you @ secret. If you pull hard, my bead comes off and down inside of me you'll find some cinna- mon drops. But be sure to put my head on again or I'll be no ornament to the community.” “Oh, we will, we will’ promised Nancy. So the pig's head was taken off and very shortly put on again. ‘Thank you," said the twins, “The drops are delicious.” “Now V'll be going,” sald Pat, “Give my love to the Gingerbread Man and tell him not to worry about trifles like buttons.” (To Be Continued) (Coprright, 1 even on the two horses. The other boys were sure I wouldn't have made such a bet without knowing what I was about. “The day came, the crowd lined up along the fence, and Ed and I stood together, both of us a lit. tle nervous on account o' the size o the bet. (We were both young fellows.) “Two Canyon Maid's rider didn't take her blanket off tili it was nearly time to start, and when he did a@ sort of sigh went up from the crowd. Most of us had never seon anything 1 her. “Bho Just looked too shining beau- tful to be real, “The signal was fiven and they wore off, And, oir, that mare sunt ran right off and left my horwe till he was barely walk- ything Ike it Just M, “Not long after that, @ | follow came along by the name of Pete. Poto know all about horses, and he mounes 4 1 told Heat that horse? he anid fenl- Ing of the moune-colored one's lege. “You say Two Canyon Mald beat that horse?’ “Heat him? muon! Made bh Towed jnck rai OW! Wea about it, EI T invehed, “Wel “Thad everybody interested by that time and betting was about REE aan taxicab. | hating | cap and stepped 1 watehed into ment, | him because he seemed the one son who ruffie Vie was dressed just as T like had the power to me, to see mar saed, in tweed but are gray loose well-fitting. soft collar, and the te of a famous His tweed cap was net just at the right angle. He with the light ease of an athlete, I hated his shrewd, kindly smile, the clearness of his bronzed complexion, the little humorous lines about his! cricket club moved eyes. I went stra rooms and wrote him a few impul: sive lines. I wrote say that would dine with him at any ree taurant he liked, but not in Clarges street, and that he could call for mn eight o'clock. At half-past three afternoon I received the invitation which I had been expecting, and at four o'clock 1 stepped out of @ taxicab and en tered the offices of a fi of solici tors situated in a quict square near Lincoln's Inn, An office-boy rose up | invited me to seat myself on a hard wooden chair while he disappeared in search of Mr, Younghusband, the principal partner in the firm, The| musty files, and a line of bills con. the Albemarie| taining particulars of property sales, | the the solicitor in each case being the firm of Younghusband, Nicholson! 4nd Younghusband, After a few! minutes’ delay, the boy sumn me and held open a door on the| other side of the passage, “Mr. madam,” he announced. | and I shook hands with @ tall, elde ly man who rose“to weloome me somewhat abstracted fashion, &e! was untidily but professiousliy dreaved. He wore old-fashioned sive! rimmed spectacles, reposing at the present moment on hia forehead. The shape of his collar and fashion pf hin tle belonged to a by: fone generation, There were rows of tin boxes extending to the cell ing, a Ubrary of law-books, and his table was littered with papers. “Mra—er—Morrison?” he began, using the name by which I had been| known during the last few months “That is more or less my name,” I admitted. “I received a telephone message asking if to call this after. noon.” “Quite #0, quite #0," be murmured a little vaguely. “Now let me see,” be went on, looking among some pa- pers. “Your husband appears to have been a client of the firm for many years, but my memory—oh, here we are,” he broke off, drawing 4 slip of paper toward him. ‘ “My in- structions, cabled from New York, | were to hand you the sum of two) hundred pounds, You received that and oblige TAR Cynthia Grey: Ho wore a| Hit the Trail” Is Advice of Woman to “June,” Who 1s Happily Married, But Wishes to Wander About. “ Home, Sweet Home, Get Back.” BY Tn anawer to “June, YNT. Will Look Good When You HIA GREY the young woman who wrote asking cht back to my| the readers of this column for a cure for the “wanderlust,” 1|% Young woman who found herself in “June's” plight, and now, after an experience in “gpysying,” has settled down to her home-making, perfectly s fellow sufferer the “cure.” Dear Miss Grey: atisfied, has written to tell her I have just finished reading your col- umn and the letter from “June” instantly caught my atten- tion, 1, too, was possessed of the “wanderlust,” but changed in the past two years, I have been married six years, and am just 28 years old from behind a wormeaten desk and| NOW, I have a very good husband and we get along well to- gether, but I have always w: after being married. anted to travel, and especially I was alone much of the time, as, of course, my husband me, near| office was decorated by rows of/ Worked during the day, and the desire to travel grew upon Even after the arrival of our beautiful little re he meant, I still wanted to “hit the trai boy, and I spoke of it often to my husband, but it was two years before I could convince young, and that later, when b him that I really must have my wish if I was ever to be contented. He felt that we were still we had accumulated a little Feenwhusdend: will ses eal money, we could afford to travel at our leisure. Yielding to me, my husband built a little house on wheels The door was closed behind me,/ and the three of us left Ohio in August, 1921, and arrived in ; Seattle in July, 1922, just eight months ago. My husband is working here, we have built a nice little bungalow, and are very happy. After having lived for months in tents, carried water for miles, slept in the des ert, pra: I still lik “wanderlust My advice to “June” is to t: seeing all the tourist attra after spending a few will be town.” We will look back on our nicest adventures, but after for us. Citizenship Query Dear Miss Grey: advise me of the what be called first weeks in comparing it with th Will you kindly way to procure citizen papers, TB Apply to the clerk at the nearest United States naturalization bureau. In Beattle this bureau ta in the fed- jeral building at Third and Union st. amount, I believe?” ; bs hatd “I recetved tt and have apent the| Candied greater part of it," I replied. Sweet Potatoes His expression became a little lees! Dear Mies Grey: Would you benign. please print a’ recipe for candied “Dear me! he exotaimed, “That sounds rather extravagant.” He scratched his upper lip thoughtfully. “Your husband haa I gather, been engaged in operationg In New York of @ delicate nature. The world of finance has always tts secrecies. He appears now, however, to have brought bis operations to a clone. ‘You are aware, perhaps, that he has landed tn England?’ My heart gave a little jump. I could not tell whether the sensation I experienced had more tn {t of joy Or of fear. “Is he safet I anked, “Safe? Mr. Younghusband re- peated a little vaguely. “Why not?” There was a moment's silence. I looked around at the shabby but tm posing contents of the office, at the lawyer's milly puzzied expression. I drank in the whole atmosphere of the piace, and I was dumb. Mr, Younghusband suddenly smiled, and tapped with his forefinger upon th table. He was like a man who has suddenly seen thru a faulty phrase in some legal document. ‘T apprehend you,” he said. & moment I was not altogether able to appreciate the significance of your question. New York in a curt. ous place, and I understand—er— that the financial operations tn which you husband has been con. corned, altho profitable, may have made him enemies. He traveled back to England, indeed, under an assumed name. Let me seo—I hi it somewhere,” he went on, fum- bling once more among a mass of papers. “I had it {n my hand only afow minutes ago... . Here we are —Mr. Richard Peters, I am in- structed to say, madam, that your husband would welcome a call from you." “You have his address?” “Yen—his address,” he repeated, “Precisely! I have it here—Number en, Jackson street." “Mayfair?” I inquired. |came back very late, without “Mayfair,” he assented. “The ad- dreas reminds me,.madam,” he went on, “that you must be prepared to| see your husband—er—not in the best of héalth. Ho ts, in fact, ina nursing home.” “Is he seriously {117 I asked. “I believe not," wan the deliberate reply. “You will have an opportu. nity of judging for yourself within half an hour. I am to ask you to visit him as soon as you can find It convenient.” T sat quite still, I was trying to get these matters into my mind. The lawyer gtariced at his watch and tm- mediately struck the bell in front of him. “You will forgive me, madam," he said, rising to his feet. “I have a meeting of the Law Soolety to at- tend, My compliments to your hus- band. Tell him to let me know if I can be of further service to him." oe The boy was holding open the door, The lawyer, with a courteous old-fashioned pow, evidently consid. ered the Interview at an ond went back to my taxicab, a little bewildered, and drove at once to Jackson street. A nurse in atarched linen frock and flowing cap con- sulted a little slate and led me to « bedroom in one of the upper stories, “Mr. Poters ix getting on famous: ly, madam,” she announced encour. agingly. “The doctor hopes to be able to Jet him out at the end of the week, Please step in, You can stay as long as you like... . Your wife is here, Mr. Peters,” she went on, ushering me thru the doorway, (Continued Tomorrow) —cover with hot flannel cloth, oblige of Douglas Fairbanks. oor old Pimple, but I've got « good heart. Got a lot of money, too, just now.” me. house. Sometimes you have t husky, “Just to make me happy.” HEST COLDS, all right when one's got something to do or somebody one's fond of, 'T lattonr’n the bimmoat fob." sweet potatoes in your columns and 8. A, Wash and pare se medium-sieed jrie and plains and_ beside the| Streams, a real little home that “belongs” seems pretty good. » to wander, but two weeks is about as long as the can hold me in its spell. ake a long trip, gypsy fashion, ctions—parks, mountains—and other parts of the country, you e beauties of your own “home journey for years, as one of our all, it's “Home Sweet Home” A SEATTLE LOVER. Mins Grey will recetve callers in her office Monday, Wednesday apd Friday, from 1 to 2 p, m, and on Tuesday and Thursday from 14 a. m. to 12 m. each || week. Please do not come at || other times, as It seriously inter- || feres with her writing. | | j mocet potatoes. Cook 10 minutes in doling salted water, Drain, out in| halves lengthwiee, and pat ina but-| |tered pan. Make a syrup by boiling three minutes. one-half .cup. sugar and four tablespoons water; add one tablespoon butter; brush potatoes with syrup and bake 40 minutes, basting twice with remaining syrup. (Continued From Saturday) “It was very kind of you, but. . “Ob, I know I haven't got the looks More lke Ho raw that I was stung, “I know that don't matter to you, Little Bear, you're not that sort. But one's got to have money. Can't be helped. And my children are all grown up, #© you'll have no worry.” For a moment I hesitated. It seems extraordinary, for Satterthwaite was almost too common for our set, but “For|he was so entirely honest, moved me. and he He must have felt that, for he pressed hia advantage. “I know you can't be in love with It's too late. Nobody was in love with me since my poor Rebecca. But I'll do anything you want. Just get married and ask nothing mora. Youll have your flat; I have my come and with me.” His voice grew I couldn't say “yes. It would have been... ridiculous, but I was very fond of him, and so I promised that, tho I couldn't marry him, eome- times I'd come and have tea with him all the namo, mm Nothing happened for a time, Jull- an must have known that I was look- ing for work. Now he went out alone almost every night, and sometimes even saying that he'd beqn to a business dinner. So I went again to seo Sat- terthwaite, who so far could not find me @ job, Things had been fright- ful In the theatrical world; plays had come down in bunches; rents had crashed. Now the times were getting worse, Exerybody was, cautious, and there were few expensive pro- ductions, therefore poor opportunities for show girls, But he waa still look- Ing ott. I suppose I could have tn- creased my chances by talking to Lockwood or to Karl Meerbrook, but T couldn't bear tt. One Wednesday, as I left a little early, because Ratterthwaite had an appointment, I found that the stair. ease was temporarily blocked up by two cases. They were being brought up by perspiring workmen, worrled by a hoarse foreman, ‘kehind whom stood, In n black coat spattered with dust and dirt, a familar figure—tt was Alec Brough, For a moment I wondered what he was doing there, then remembered that Lord Alfred had engaged him because he was Batterthwatte’s architect. We staré at each other for a mo- ment across the struggle on the stairs, smiling recognition, Tt-was qneer, looking across like that at some one so famillar, not being able to tale to him, and thus compelled to enter the recenses of one'y personality while presumably he did the same, At last the casos wore heaved past me. Brough sald: “How aro you, Mrs, Quin? T've not ween you for a long time,’ “No. Three months, lan't It?” “You, ninco Notley, Well, how's life?" “Oh, life! A set of samples, don't » think?" "Oulte so, Aut some are goor T did not reply, he went on: "Life's His mood 4 he looked at hin wriat “Five o'clock, What about ned ” nal | IN USE FOR OVER 30 YEARS I hesitated, I realized that to say “Yea” would be aignificant, tho 1 might safely have said “yes” to a) dozen acquaintances. So I sald, “Yes,” and rather excitedly waited for two or three minutes while he ran upstairs to wash, and brush his cont. \ ‘We went into a mmall, underground teashop that called itself, I think, “The Wigwam” and was got up with Painted canvas, spears, feathered headdrensos, Inaide each cubicle were hung up horribly realistic scalps. “You know what they’re| for?” maid Alec Brough. “They en- able the young fellows who come here to tell the girls that they can have thelr own.” T laughed, but he embarrassed mo, So square and ood-humored, 80 pleasing, in a way, with his Incred- ibly close-clipped halr and mustache; he was got up like @ solid man of business, and yet I found him artis- tic, philosophic. Alec Brough was al- most artificially simple. He made such an impression on me, that, in- stead of slipping into easy acquaint- anceshtp, I plunged . . . no, I didn't plunge, I fell from thousands of foet into an abyss of intimacy. Like a lapper just out of Wryodean, I blurted: “Mr. Satterthwaite asked me to marry him." “Oh,” ho replied, without any sign of surprise, “Going to have him?" “How can you be so absurd? Why, he’s fit “Yes, He's 50 and not pretty,” sald Brough, Then, with a judicial air that infuriated me: “But he's a good chap. I've had to do with him for two years, and he's straight. You might do better. You might do worse,” I was very annoyed. He wanted to tuck me up, He was sorry for me and wanted to save me from a cruel world. I felt like a Christian found unfit for the lions, I sald so with some heat, “Oh,” he replied, on his defense, “have it as you like. I don't want you to worry him, I'd rather..." He stopped and Ls blushed. But his tact carried him On. “You nee, the world’s a difficult place for n pretty woman, Looks have thelr value, but only one sort of value, Looks are a wasting anset.” “What's n wasting asset?” “An asset that goes down in value year by year as you use It. Like a mine, or @ ear. You can put up a sinking fund to redeom the cost of your car, or the value of your mino, but there's no sinking fund that will get you back tho velvet of your cheek, the ollve marble of your 1 or the sleepy topaz of your aye: After a moment I said; “T don't Know what you're talking about, 1 don't know what you mean by re- deeming, nor by a sinking fund, but men always talk like that, They like to nay things we don't understand, because they Ike to think us ally, ‘We don't mind.” 1 discovered with frurprine that T was flirting with him, (Continued Tomorrow) CASTORIA For Infants and Children Always bears Bignature ste Build Washington by Using Washington Products The paint manufacturing industry in Washington would be increased FIVE times if all the paint used in Washing- ton were made in this state. 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