Thursday, December 24, 1936
THE HERMISTON HERALD, HERMISTON, OREGON.
It's Easy to Crochet
This Set of Lace Filet
DEPUTY OF THE DEVIL
♦
♦
♦
♦
By BEN AMES WILLIAMS
♦
CHAPTER I
— 1—
The events to be related began
upon a certain afternoon and early
evening when Doctor Greeding be
came for almost the first time in
his life furiously angry. Call these
events coincidence; yet it is per
missible to suggest that if human
passions be supposed sometimes to
have a force of their own, so that
a violent emotion in one individual
may without any physical action on
his part project itself and impact
upon other individuals, then these
occurrence will fall into an or
dered pattern.
Doctor Greeding’s own experi
ence had persuaded him that inci
dents do occur, and conditions do
arise, for which there can be no
natural explanation. Certain epi
sodes in his life, certain unique
traits which he recognized in him
self had long since convinced him
of this.
Thus his sense of smell was far
more acute than normal. If he
came into an empty room, he knew
instantly who had last passed
through that room. In the same
way, perhaps from a peculiarity of
structure which his oculist early re
marked, he could see with some
precision in the dark. Incidentally,
his eyes sometimes shone like those
of an animal; and Mrs. Greeding
might be startled, when they both
awoke at night, to see her hus
band's eyes thus gleaming.
Doctor Greeding cultivated these
unusual capacities—taking care, for
instance, not to smoke, lest he blur
his sense of smell; but this was a
matter as much of inclination as of
choice,' for he had a dog’s distaste
for tobacco. Mrs. Greeding, and
his daughter Nancy, respected this
feeling on his part. Mrs. Greeding
never smoked at all, Nancy never
when she was near him.
But he had other gifts not so def
initely physical. For instance, he
sometimes knew what a person was
about to say before the word was
uttered. Or when he approached a
street-corner, or a closed door, he
might find himself perfectly sure
that when he turned the corner, or
opened the door, he would discover
a certain person or scene.
Also, he had had occasionally the
experience of wishing very much
that something entirely out of the
ordinary run of expectation would
happen—and having the wished-for
event occur. But this he attributed
to his luck. Doctor Greeding was
in fact a child of good fortune. Life
ran well for him. He had married,
with the deliberate intention of fur
thering his career, the girl he
chose; and their life together had
been all that he had hoped. He
had desired one child, a daughter;
Nancy was their only child. He had
sought material and professional
success, and found it.
And in other ways, in the small
incidents of daily life, luck was
likely to break in his direction. His
mother—she was a simple woman—
once told him that he had been born
under a caul. “So you'll always be
lucky,” she explained . . .
The thing began with Ira Jerrell,
a wealthy business man near Doc
tor Greeding’s own age, whose life
the Doctor had saved by a difficult
operation. From that day, as a not
unnatural consequence, their friend
ship had steadily deepened.
Today Jerrell had telephoned Dr.
Greeding and made an appointment
to lunch with him. at their club.
During the luncheon they spoke of
casual matters. Afterward, Jerrell
started to light a cigar, then hesi
tated.
“Light it, Ira,” the Doctor bade
him. smiling “The window's open;
and if any tobacco can be tolerable
to a sensitive nose, it is yours.”
So Jerrell scratched a match. He
was a man physically fit. lean and
hard. His thick hair contributed to
the youthfulness of his appearance;
but there were betraying lines at
the corners of his mouth. He said,
after a moment, quietly:
“I want to have a talk with you,
Ned—about Nancy.” There was a
slow color in his cheeks.
The Doctor nodded. “Yes, I
know.”
Jerrell looked at him curiously.
“How can you know?" he asked.
Doctor Greeding only smiled, and
Jerrell said: “Ned. I always have
a feeling, in talking with you. that
you know what I'm going to say.
You're a curiously understanding
man.” He chuckled "I should not
like to try to keep a business secret
from you.”
"If I could rend your mind. I'd
have been able to retire long ago,”
Doctor Greeding remarked.
“You don't—speculate, do you?”
Jerrell inquired. He had never in
vited the other to participate in any
business affair.
Greeding shook his head. “No.
At least, I never have. I'm natural
ly cautious, and—it hasn't been nec
essary. I’ve been lucky in my in
vestments. I was born under a
caul, you know." His tone sug
gested that he was laughing at his
own words.
Jerrell finally spoke again
“Well, you're right, Ned.” he
said. “It is about Nancy. . . •
She’s a beautiful, a lovely girl.”
“Why, yes,” Doctor Greeding
smilingly assented, rather amused
at the other’s indirection. “I think
so.”
After a moment Jerrell came to
the point.
“Ned,” he said, “here it is, in
words of one syllable: If—well, I
should like to marry Nancy.”
Doctor Greeding’s heart quick
ened its beat; but he held his
tongue. Jerell went on, hurriedly.
“Of course, I haven’t spoken to
her,” Jerrell explained. “It seemed
to me that under the circumstances
I ought first to come to you—my
old friend, and Nancy’s father.”
And he continued: “I see quite
clearly the difficulties in the way.
I am twenty years older than she
is, twenty-two or -three years older.
That is an obstacle. Then I have
known her, as a child and as a
young woman, for years; but she
has thought of me as an old man—
who grew older—for as long. That
is another obstacle. There may be
still others. It may be that she is
—in love with some one her own
age; and it may be that even if she
were not, you and Mrs. Greeding
would object to her marrying me,
either because I’m so much older,
or for some other reason.”
He hesitated, and when Doctor
Greeding still held silent, he went
on:
“I don’t want to—distress her, if
she—already loves some one else,
some youngster her own age. And
I don’t want to embarrass you or
Mrs. Greeding, by putting you in
the position of opposing her mar
riage to me.”
He hesitated, said then: “That’s
the situation, Ned. What do you
think?”
After a moment Doctor Greed
ing chuckled. “Well, Ira,” he said,
“I can’t pretend to be—surprised.
I've not been blind to your new in
terest in Nancy in these recent
months. Mrs. Greeding has told me
some things about your visit with
them in Georgia.” He added calm
ly: “And Nancy’s fine. I should
have been more surprised if you
had failed to discover the fact.”
He went on, thoughtfully: “Nancy
has friends, of course—boys her
own age. A girl of twenty-two is
very much a young woman, but a
boy of that age is still a boy. She
has a troop of these youngsters at
her heels most of the time: but no
one of them more often than the
others.” He smiled. “I feel sure
the field is open,” he said.
“How about you? And Mrs.
Greeding?” Jerrell asked bluntly.
The Doctor hesitated, then went
on: “The difference in your ages
may seem to her an obstacle, as
you say. She may feel it a barrier
too great to be surmounted. On
that point, I cannot speak. That is
for Nancy to decide.”
Jerrell said simply:
“Of course, in the last analysis.
But would you and Mrs. Greed
ing—”
The Doctor met the other man’s
eyes straightforwardly. “I know
you pretty well, Ira,” he replied.
"If Nancy loved you and wished to
marry you, Mrs. Greeding and I
would be—gratified.”
Jerrell chuckled with a quick,
youthful pleasure; but he sobered
then, and he said gratefully:
“Thanks, Ned. I appreciate your
attitude.” And after a moment he
added: “I— love Nancy, Ned. And
I’m not as old as my years I’ve
lived decently, taken care of my
self. I believe—if she came to
love me—I could make her happy.”
Doctor Greeding nodded.
“I
know as much about you—physical
ly—as you know yourself.” He was
proud of his tone. It was dispas
sionate and calm, with no hint in
it of the excitement he felt.
Jerrell colored. There was al
ways in him something deeply lik
able. He said awkwardly
“I know that this is—an old-fash
ioned proceeding, my speaking first
to you . . . And I don’t want to be
rebuffed. Are you sure she is—
free?”
"Perfectly sure.” Doctor Greed
ing promised. "I have her confi
dence. If there were anyone, I
would surely know.”
Jerrell smiled, and his eyes light
ed. "Thanks, Ned,” he said. “I
shall bank on what you say.”
Doctor Greeding drove back up
town in a complacent triumph. He
had no least misgiving of what was
to come . . . Edward Greeding
was the only son of a Maine farm
er. Even as a boy on the farm,
he revealed some unique and un
usual quality; and his mother's
pride furnished a driving motive
force. By his own labors he put
himself through Bowdoin and aft
erward through Harvard Medical
school, where he ranked second in
his class.
By the time he had finished his
hospital work, both his father and
mother were dead. In Cambridge
he had learned to value the at
mosphere of dignity and pride
which surrounded some of the fine
old houses there. In one of them
♦
♦
♦
WNU Service.
Copyright, Ben Ames Williams.
—that of Doctor Bendon—he was a
welcomed visitor; and he shrewdly
decided that if Myra Bendon were
his wife, his career would begin
under good auspices. He wooed the
girl—she was a little taller than
he, plain and awkward, not beset
by suitors—and won her. Later,
when Doctor Bendon died, Doctor
and Mrs. Greeding came to live in
the old house that had been built
by her great-grandfather, a hun
dred years before.
Mrs. Greeding would have pre
ferred more modern surroundings;
but her husband insisted. There
were in the old house many things
—furniture, silverware and the like
—which had been old and fine when
the house was new; and Doctor
Greeding had a keen appreciation
of these possessions. He took pride
in them, took pride in having
achieved them. But Mrs. Greeding
kept the old things from a sense of
duty. There were a few things—a
vase, a modern painting or the like
—which she had bought and against
the Doctor's protests insisted on
keeping; and her own dressing-
room, her particular domain, was
decorated and furnished in a mod
ernistic vein.
The house stood on half an acre
of well-landscaped grounds, with a
fine bay hedge in front, and flowers,
and a pool where goldfish swam,
and a tennis court. The tennis
court was at one side, and the wire
screen designed to catch stray
balls was itself overgrown by vines,
so that the court was hidden from
the eye of anyone not actually with
in the enclosure.
This afternoon—it was a day in
May, when spring was already full
“Thanks, Ned,” He Said. "1
Shall Bank on What You Say.”
blown, and the sun was warm—and
only a little while after Doctor
Greeding had assured Jerrell that
Nancy was heart-free, the girl was
playing tennis with Dan Carlisle.
This young man was an assistant
professor of economics in the uni
versity, and his book on the busi
ness cycle had already won respect
ful notice and was used as a text in
the business school. He telephoned
Nancy soon after lunch; asked
whether she were free. She told
him, eagerly, to come; and at a
little before three he arrived, to find
her driving balls against the batter
board at the end of the court.
Doctor Greeding did not suspect
that those great plans he had
for Nancy were guessed by half the
world; but they were not as secret
as he supposed. Thus when Dan
arrived, he peered through the gate
in the screen around the court,
and hissed sharply. Nancy heard,
and called, “Oh, hello!” and she
came swiftly toward him
“Sh-h-h!” he warned her, finger
on his lips; and he looked right and
left, cautiously. “Are we alone?”
he whispered.
“Idioti” she laughed. "Yes, of
course. Mother's gone to play
bridge—won't be home till late.”
“Ah!” Dan sighed contentedly.
"And your father won’t either. So
it’s perfectly safe for me to show
myself!”
“Don’t be silly, Dan,” Nancy in
dignantly protested. “You’re not
exactly an outcast, you know.”
He insisted with mock gravity:
“Indigent instructor plays clandes
tine tennis with daughter of wealth
and beauty." He shook his head.
“That’s bad,” he said.
Nancy cried, half-irritated: “Just
for that, I shall beat you!” She
spun her racket.
“Rough or
smooth?”
"Rough,” said Dan; and the
racket fell.
‘’Smooth,” she announced tri
umphantly. “I’ll take the serve!”
So Dan stripped off his sweater
and crossed to the farther court,
and Nancy’s racket rose and swung
in a tree full circle. The ball
clipped the line, went untouched in
to the backstop. Dan had not
moved, had made no effort to re
turn it.
“Weren’t you ready?” she called.
“Sorry,” he confessed with a
grin. “You ought to wear a veil
or something, Nancy, or black your
teeth! How can a man keep his
eye on the ball?”
“You’d better watch this one!”
she retorted, her cheeks bright,
and served again. But the ball
came back, low and fast on her
backhand, and at her very feet; and
thereafter Dan managed to keep
his attention on the game.
Yet—inattention might have been
forgiven him. Nancy was slender,
with loose dark hair; and she wore
one of those scant tennis costumes
calculated to permit the greatest
possible freedom of movement, with
no sleeves, and a skirt which even
in repose scarce reached the knee.
Her bare legs were golden brown
from three months of southern sun,
and her arms and throat were the
color of honey. Dan thought her
like that classic figure of Diana
with the stag. Her movements were
liquid and effortless; her body
flowed through a succession of pos
tures, each beautifully composed,
like a fine work of art, which the
eye recorded and remembered.
Dan himself was no work of art.
"He was taller than Nancy, but so
broad of shoulder and heavy of leg
that he seemed short and almost
chunky. He moved about the court
with a robust zest and a reckless
waste of energy. His stroke seemed
awkward, but had a surprising ef
ficiency and power. Nancy had
learned her tennis in a good school,
and played easily and well; and she
did in fact win that first set from
him, though by sheer stubborn per
sistence he carried it thrice to
deuce.
But in the second set his superior
pace began to tell; the balls he
hit had a steam behind them which
when they struck her racket com
municated the shock to her hand,
to her wrist and arm. Little by lit
tle, her returns began to drift faintly
to the right of the spot where she
aimed them; she made errors. He
broke her serve . . .
“Golly, Nancy,” he protested,
“you’re blazing! Too hot?”
“Of course not!” She laughed at
him. “You’re no iceberg, yourself,”
she retorted. “You’re red as beef!
It makes me hot just to look at
you.”
“Want to call it off?” he urged.
“No sense killing ourselves.”
“Of course not. We’ll play two
sets out of three,” she insisted stub
bornly, and they came back to the
court again.
She coasted through the remain
ing games of that set, husbanding
her strength, making him run when
she could, placing the ball rather
than driving it. He took the set at
six-four.
•‘There,” he suggested. “That
makes it even-Stephen. Let’s call
it a draw!”
“Of course, if you're tired,” she
said derisively.
He grinned. “You’re a glutton
for punishment.”
“I’ve just begun to fight,” she
warned him.
“All right, have it your way,” he
assented. "It’s my serve. Let’s
go”
And without pause, they began
again; but Dan’s game now had
softened. She won his serve, then
her own, and the first three points
of the next game. On the third
point he served a double fault; and
she picked up the balls and walked
toward the net.
“Dan, you beast, you’re letting
up,” she said in angry accusation.
“Not a bit of it,” he insisted.
“Liar,” she retorted, and her
eyes were hot. ’ “Don’t you suppose
I know? And if there’s anything
I hate, it’s to be babied."
“Why listen, Nance,” he protest
ed. “I— Well, as a matter of fact,”
he confessed honestly, “I thought
you were pretty hot and tired.
We’re not playing for blood, you
know!”
“I’m going to beat you if I can,”
she said furiously. “And you’re to
beat me if you can. Is that clear?”
He hesitated, himself angry now.
"Perfectly," he retorted then. “You
asked for it. I’ll give it to you!”
And he turned and stalked back
to the service-line. She took her
place to receive. “Ready?” he
barked.
She nodded, and the ball came
blazing at her. Her whole arm
tingled from the shock of it. Her
return caught the net cord, dropped
for an error.
His jaw was set, his face bleak.
“Ready?” He took the game. The
next. The next. He won five games
in a row; and with the score two-
five against her, she prepared to
serve.
Driving herself to the limit, she
served and came in. His return
was hot; she met it weakly, could
ho more than pop the ball feebly in
to the air. She saw his body bend
backward for the smash, saw the
sweeping curve of his racket, heard
the explosion of the shot; and then
something struck her bare leg just
above the right knee.
She felt a pang like flame, a sick
ening agony. She heard his low cry
of dismay, and heard her own
voice in a keen fine wail of pain;
and the world swam and dissolved,
and she was on hands and knees,
on the ground, dizzy, almost faint
ing.
Then he was holding her in his
arms, and crying out regrets and
self-reproaches, and trying to lift
her; and the sandy surface of the
court abraded her bare knees; and
then she was being carried, and
abruptly she was being kissed, and
so forgot her hurts. Chaos resolved
itself into order again, glorious and
beautiful. She lay on turf, cradled
ir. his arms, clinging to him.
“I didn’t mean to, Nance?” he
cried desperately.
“Please mean to, Dan," she
whispered, drawing him nearer.
“I don’t mean—this,” he con
fessed confusedly. “Oh, I’ve meant
this, always, I think. Only I never
had the nerve. But—hitting you
. . . Was it awful? I’d rather break
my arm.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Palindrome Reads Same
Backwards as Forwards
Whenever you find a word, verse,
or sentence that reads the same
backwards as forwards, there you
have a palindrome. Single-word ex
amples of this peculiarity are “re
paper” and “deified.” The touch of
wit in many classic palindromic
sentences is unmistakable. Thus
Napoleon, mourning over his exile,
might well exclaim, “Able was I ere
I saw Elba,” and Adam could
hardly have found more appropriate
words to introduce himself to Eve
than simply, “Madam, I’m Adam!”
A shrewd take-off of the tooth
extracting frenzy of Sir Richard
Paget and old Irish pathologist, is
contained in the palindrome,
“Paget saw an Irish tooth sir, in a
waste gap.” Other long palindromes
are "dog as a devil deified lived as
a god” and “lewd I did live and
evil did I dwell;” while every
Etonian can trip out a further ex
ample in “now note Eton won.”
The ancient Greeks and Romans
went so far as to coin sentences
with a different and sometimes
more sinister meaning when inter
preted backwards.—Tit-Bits Mag
azine.
Pattern 5520
A bit of humble string—this gor
geous peacock pattern — and
presto—you’re the proud owner of
dainty filet lace chair sets, scarf
ends, or buffet sets! Fascinating
needlework, the K stitch sets off
the design effectively. Even be
ginners will find this pattern an
easy way to add to their prestige
as needlewomen. In pattern 5520
you will find instructions and
charts for making the set shown;
an illustration of it and of all the
stitches needed; material require
ments.
To obtain this pattern send 15
cents in stamps or coins (coins
preferred) to The Sewing Circle,
259 W. Fourteenth St., New York,
N. Y.
Write plainly your name, ad-
dress and pattern number.
Highways of World
There are 9,278,397 miles of
highways in the world. The Amer
icas lead, with 3,889,623, followed
by Europe with 3,387,964, Asia
with 1,038,814, Australia, New Zea
land, and Oceania with 526,980,
and Africa with 435,016.
LUDEN'S
MENTHOL COUGH DROPS
HELP BALANCE YOUR
R
ALKALINE RESERVE
WHIN YOU HAVI A COLDI
YOU CAN THROW CARDS
IN HIS FACE
ONCE TOO OFTEN
you have those awful
cramps; when your nerves
W HEN
are all on edge—don't take it out
on the man you love.
Your husband can’t possibly -
know how you feel for the simple
reason that he is a man.
A three-quarter wife may be
no wife at all if she nags her hus-
band seven days out of every
month.
For three generations one woman
has told another how to go “smil
ing through” with Lydia E. Pink
ham’s Vegetable Compound. It
helps Nature tone up the system,
thus lessening the discomforts from
the functional disorders which
women must endure in the three
ordeals of life: 1. Turning from
girlhood to womanhood. 2. Pre
paring for motherhood. 3. Ap
proaching “middle age.”
Don’t be a three-quarter wife,
take LYDIA E. PINKHAM’S
VEGETABLE COMPOUND and
Go “Smiling Through.”
WFOUR
TEASPOONFUI
HEARTBURN?
Its surprising how many have heart
burn. Hurried eating, overeating, heavy
smoking, excessive drinking all lead to
heartburn. When it comes, heed the
warning. Your stomach is on a strike.
TAKE MILNESIAS
The amai
endowed
cíate the
thought he was
failed to appre-
Milnesia, the original milk of magnesia
in wafer form, taken after indulgence,
relieves heartburn. Crunchy and tasty.
Each wafer equals 4 teaspoonfuls milk
of magnesia. 20c, 35c & 60c packages.
DEDUT Y
I MILNESIA
WAFE,