Thursday, January 7, 1937
THE HERMISTON HERALD, HERMISTON, OREGON.
Crochet Tot Snug and
Warm Three-Piece Set
DEPUTY OF THE DEVIL
♦
♦
♦
♦
Copyright,
SYNOPSIS
Dr. G reeding, a wealthy and talented
middle aged surgeon, is possessed of seem
ingly supernatural powers. He is able to
anticipate what people say before they ut
ter a word; occasionally he can wish for
something extraordinary to happen and
have the wish fulfilled. Greeding meets
Ira Jerrell, a wealthy business friend of
his own age, who tells him he loves his
daughter Nancy and would like to marry
her. Dr. Greeding is pleased and tells
Jerrell he has a clear field. Nancy, how
ever. is in love with Dan Carlisle, an as
sistant professor at the University who has
little means. They discuss marriage, but
decide to delay talking to her father about
It. Nancy, who has been playing tennis
with Dan that afternoon, tells her father
she had been playing with u girl friend.
Greeding knows this is untrue and is secret
ly enraged. Stepping into his wife’s room,
his eye (alls on a marble statuette which
he dislikes. He picks it up. wishing he
could smash it to bits. Suddenly it is
snatched from his grasp as by an invisible
force and burst asunder. Mrs. Greeding is
greatly disturbed over the mysterious de
struction of the statuette. The doctor makes
light of it
,
By BEN AMES WILLIAMS
CHAPTER II—Continued
“He’s a pauper, always will be.
Or the next thing to it.”
“Do you think that makes so
much difference, Ned?” she urged
gently. “And—after all, isn’t that
Nancy’s business?”
“I won’t have it,” he insisted.
“I shall make it my business.”
"It’s possible, you know,” she re
minded him gravely, “that you—
can't do anything about it. Nancy
has a will of her own, and—an in
come of her own, later, apart from
you. From my father."
• He said tensely: “Myra, what’s
got into you? You’ve always stood
shoulder to shoulder with me.”
1 “You’ve always done things I
could agree with, and support,” she
replied. “But I think you would
be wrong to oppose Nancy, if she
loves Dan, without a better reason
than the fact that he has no money.
After all, his family is fine.”
And she urged: “Finish dress
ing, Ned. We must go.”
He started to speak, then held his
tongue. He returned to his own
room for vest and coat; and when
he came back, she was ready.
“Twenty minutes past seven,"
she said. “We’re supposed to be
there at a quarter of, and it’s half
an hour’s drive.”
He said: “The others will be
late. Wait." He had decided to
“He’s a Pauper, Always Will Be.”
speck. “I want to tell you some
thing. Ira Jerrell asked me to lunch
with him today. He wants tc mar
ry Nancy.”
Her eyes widened. “But Ned, he’s
as old as you are!" she protested.
“Two or three years younger,”
he corrected. “And I’m not old!”
He was fighting to control the fury
in him.
“Oh, Ned,” she protested. “In
twenty years he will be in old man;
and she—”
“He won’t live twenty years,”
Doctor Greeding said explicitly. “I
operated on him, you remember.
He comes of a short-lived family,
and he himself has a heart weak
ness, latent now, but bound to de
velop. He won’t live twenty years;
and when he dies, he will leave
Nancy still a young woman, and
wealthy enough to—”
Her cheek was pale. “Oh Ned,
that’s horrible!”
“It’s sensible!" he insisted.
She stared at him in amazement.
“Ned, sometimes 1 can t under
stand you." she confessed. “There’s
a hard, ruthless streak in you Most
of the time you're gentle and loyal
and fine; but—I’m afraid of you
myself, sometimes.”
His lips were tight with rige.
“I'm finding out a lot of things
about myself,” he exclaimed, and
he laughed unpleasantly. “It's
queer you never noticed them be
fore."
“You’ve changed lately,” she ad
mitted.
He cried: “I—" But she touched
his arm.
“Hush,” she protested. Some one
knocked at the door, and she opened
it. Ruth was there.
“Thomas wants to know will you
want him to drive,” she said in a
resentful tone.
Doctor Greeding shook his head.
“No, I’ll take Mrs. Greeding’s car.”
he answered shortly.
And Mrs. Greeding, before Ruth
could turn away, keeping the serv
ant near as a shield between them,
touched his arm. “Come, Ned,”
she said. “We’ll have to hurry.”
So they went downstairs togeth
er . , .
He drove headlong, some of the
fury in him communicating itself
to the car. The Jordan home was
in Winchester ; and Doctor Greeding
came to the Fellsway and turned in
to it to escape the slower traffic on
the avenue.
Mrs. Greeding protested uncer
tainly: “Ned, you’re driving aw
fully fast.”
“You don’t want to be late,” he
retorted harshly; and she shrank
away from him.
A traffic-light halted them; and
when it changed to green, the car
beside them leaped ahead and cut
in front of Doctor Greeding. His
brakes ground to avoid a collision;
and the offending car darted away.
He said through clenched teeth:
“The rat! I hope he breaks his
neck!”
The other car was no more than a
hundred yards ahead of them. Doc
tor Greeding heard like an echo of
his words a loud explosion, and saw
the other automobile lurch drunk-
enly to the right against the curb.
It tilted up and over, and came
down crashing. They were so close
behind it that he had to jam his
brakes hard down to stop in time.
Other machines penned them in,
and instantly there was a small
jam of traffic, and a motorcycle
officer swept to the scene.
Mrs. Greeding cried: “Ned, he
must be hurt! Go see!”
Doctor Greeding got out of his
car. His legs were stiff, yet shak
ing. His shoulders jerked convul
sively. His brow was wet and cold.
There was in him an incredible cer
tainty hideous and horrifying, and
yet in some dark fashion intoxicat
ing and full of promise too.
He went forward to where the po
liceman had dragged the driver out
of the wrecked macnine. The man
lay limp, motionless.
“I’m a physician,” said Doctor
Greeding briefly, and the policeman
gave way to him. Doctor Greeding
made a swift examination.
Then he stood up and brushed his
hands; he spoke in a voice scarce
ly recognizable as his own.
“Nothing to be done. His neck is
broken, Officer.”
The man was dead. He was a
middle-aged man, a little shabby.
His was an inexpensive car. It was
crushed and battered, now, fit only
to be junked. The man, fortunate
ly, had been alone. Doctor Greed
ing, looking down at him, felt ter
ror and contrition—and a dizzying
sense of power!
The policeman asked at large:
“Anyone see what happened?”
Doctor Greeding cleared his
throat, steadied his voice. There
was no more anger in him; but
rather a quick caution.
“He was driving very rapidly,”
he explained to the officer. “He
passed us at the last traffic-light,
and cut in on me pretty sharply.
Drunk, do you .hink?"
“No smell of booze on him,” the
policeman replied. “His front tire
blew out when he hit the turn. I
guess that's the answer." He pro
duced his notebook and took Doc
tor Greeding’s name and address,
then turned to the others who had
pressed around.
Doctor Greeding. at the first op
portunity, returned to his car, took
the wheel and moved away. He
said nothing; but Mrs. Greeding
watched him, saw his deep distress.
"Was he killed?" she asked.
The Doctor nodded. His brow
was moist, his tones shaken. “My
ra. his neck was broken!” he said
unsteadily, and tried to laugh.
“That makes me feel—curiously
guilty, almost responsible!”
She touched his hand reassuring
ly, “Ned. dear, don’t be absurd!”
“I feel as though I'd wished it
on him,” he admitted.
“You're perfectly ridiculous,”
she urged loyally. “He was driving
like an idiot, it just happened to—
happen right before our eyes.”
“Poor devil!” Doctor Greeding
muttered; and she looked at him
in a secret astonishment, it was
not like her husband to be thus
senselessly disturbed; and she
sought to turn his thoughts into an
other channel.
"You’d better hurry, Ned,” she
reminded him. "Were late al
ready!”
So he drove on tn silence; but he
could not so easily dismiss this
tragedy from his mind. Common
sense told him that this was no
more than one of those incredibly
apt coincidences which occur in the
life of every man, yet something
+ +
♦
Ben Ames Williams.
♦
WNU Service.
deeper than common sense, some
thing rooted in the very base and
foundation of his soul, cried out
against accepting such a simple ex
planation. He was trembling and
shaken with a vast and perilous
excitement, like one who stands be
fore a closed door, long locked, in
which now the key is fixed, waiting
only for him to turn it, and open
the door, and enter in.
Suddenly his hands wavered on
the wheel, so that Mrs. Greeding
caught and steadied it; and she
cried sharply:
"Ned!”
"It’s all right,” he said huskily.
“I’m upset, that’s all.” And he add
ed: “I’ve a mind to turn around
and go home. I don’t feel like see
ing people.”
“Nonsense!” she insisted. “It’s
what you need."
“Oh, I suppose so,” he assented.
But she watched him thereafter
with an alert attention, till they
came to their destination, where
other cars were already parked,
and alighted and went in. On the
way up the walk to the door, she
held his arm, her eyes full of solici
tude, till he smiled at her reassur
ingly.
“I need a cocktail,” he said.
"That will pick me up.”
And in fact, once in the house,
greeting a dozen people in succes
sion, he was swept out of his own
distracting thoughts. He gulped a
cocktail and another, and felt new
strength flow into him. In the draw
ing-room he recognized, standing
with Mrs. Jordan and two or three
others by the hearth, Professor Car
lisle, who was young Dan’s father.
The professor was a small, lean,
gray old man with clear blue eyes;
and Doctor Greeding, with an im
pulse to cultivate the other as a
possible ally against Dan and Nan
cy, crossed to speak to him.
As he did so, a young woman by
the professor’s elbow turned to
watch him approach; and Doctor
Greeding unconsciously paused as
he saw her countenance. She was
tall, her glance serene and steady.
As though she marked his hesita
tion, there was a faint amusement
in her eyes; but after that momen
tary pause, Doctor Greeding werft
on, and Mrs. Jordan welcomed him
into the group and made introduc
tions.
"You know Professor Carlisle,
Doctor Greeding? And Mary Ann?
I’ve put Miss Carlisle beside you
at dinner. Doctor, so you can talk
shop as much as you please!”
He shook hands with Professor
Carlisle and with the girl. Mary
Ann’s hand in his had a strength
which pleased him. He found her
deeply, stirringly beautiful. At Mrs.
Jordan’s word, she smiled again;
and Doctor Greeding echoed: “Talk
shop?”
But before Mary Ann could re
ply, Mrs. Jordan swept her away.
Doctor Greeding and Professor Car
lisle were left together. Doctor
Greeding said casually:
"I’ve met your son, of course,
Professor; but I didn't know you
had a daughter too.”
Professor Carlisle smiled fondly.
“She doesn’t—circulate as much as
Dan does,” he assented. “She's a
registered nurse—takes her profes
sion rather seriously."
"That is apt to be a—sporadic
occupation," Doctor Greeding sug
gested.
"She was Doctor Homans’ surgi
cal nurse until he died," Professor
Carlisle explained. "But since then
The exodus toward the dining-
room began. Doctor Greeding found
himself placed at Mrs. Jordan’s
right, Mary Ann on his other side.
Mrs. Greeding was at the other end
of the table, beside Professor Car
lisle.
The effect of the cocktails the
Doctor had taken began to pass,
and memory of the tragedy he had
witnessed so short a time ago re
turned to disturb him. By and by
he heard Professor Carlisle at the
other end of the table utter a word
at once strange and vaguely famil
iar. The word was poltergeist. It
touched some chord of memory in
him, and he tried to hear what the
other was saying; but Mary Ann
just then released herself from the
man beyond her, and smiled and
suggested:
“We don’t actually have to talk
shop, I suppose. Doctor Greeding;
tut we ought to say something to
each other!”
He forgot his interest in Professor
Carlisle. “Mrs. Jordan contrives
these things so carefully, ’ he as
sented in an amused undertone.
“Gives us our cue. You worked
with Doctor Homans, your father
says?"
"For three years,” she assented.
He chuckled, curiously stimulat
ed. forgetting for the present that
man with a broken neck limp on the
turf beside the road.
“I know your brother Dan,” he
remarked. “See him around the
house occasionally. I expect you
know Nancy.”
"Oh, yes,” she agreed. “Ot
course. I'm older than she." She
laughed softly. “And our orbits
don’t cross very often.”
She continued to talk to him, in
a pleasant and diverting fashion, of
a variety of matters; and Doctor
Greeding responded, stimulated by
her beauty and her wit. Once at
something she said, he threw back
his head and laughed so heartily
that for a moment everyone else at
the table was silenced.
He enjoyed this talk with Mary
Ann, but when they rose from the
table, he lost her; and thereafter,
abstraction descended on him like
a cloak. Mrs. Greeding came at
last to his rescue, and they made
their farewells. He w as not anxious
to go, had hoped to find himself once
more near Mary Ann; and in the
car, he said almost resentfully:
"Leaving early, aren’t we?”
“I saw how tired you were,” she
replied, and added with a curious
sidelong glance:
“Though you
seemed to enjoy yourself at dinner.”
“Miss Carlisle is attractive, in
teresting,” he assented.
She seemed about to speal., hesi
tated, said then: “I suppose you’re
still worrying about that poor man
who was killed. But that’s just sil-
Abstraction Descended on Him
Like a Cloak.
ly, Ned. Forget him.” He nodded
silently, and she sought some topic
to distract him.
“Professor Carlisle was explain
ing to me about poltergeists," she
volunteered in a sprightly tone. “I
had told him of the statuette in my
room being broken so mysterious
ly; and he said we probably had a
poltergeist in the house!’
Doctor Greeding remembered.
“I’ve heard the word, comewhere.
“It comes from the German,” she
explained quickly, grateful for his
attention. “It means 'a racketing
spirit’; and when there is one in a
house, it throws stones, crockery,
furniture—all sorts of things—all
around everywhere."
And she wem on hurriedly: “Pro
fessor Carlisle said usually these
things happen where there is a
young girl who is sick, or half crazy,
or something.” She laughed. “So
I told him Nancy certainly wasn’t
either sick or crazy; and Ruth may
not be so awfully well, but she's
over forty and perfectly sane, and
cook’s fifty if she’s a day!”
Doctor Greeding, in a sudden
startled interest, asked in a care-
fu‘ tone: “Did Professor Carlisle of
fer any explanation of these phe
nomena?” His pulse, absurdly,
pounded.
“Oh, he says there isn’t any,”
she assured him. “He says such
things probably don’t really happen;
that they’re imagined, or faked, or
something. Pictures can’t just fall
off walls, of course; and fires don’t
start by themselves."
He nodded vigorously. “Of course
not,” he agreed. “All nonsense!”
But he had a sudden, vivid mem
ory of a sultry summer day, a day
in haytime. Himself a small boy in
the mow, stowing away the hay as
it was tossed up to him. his nostrils
full of choking dust, stifled, miser
able. He hated the work, the barn,
the hay; he wished furiously for any
manner of rescue from this toil.
And suddenly there was smoke in
the air and flames about his feet,
and he leaped down out of the mow
—and had need to work no more
that day, but only to watch the barn
burn merrily.
Mrs. Greeding’s voice went on,
an undercurrent to his thoughts:
“Things don't just fly around for no
reason.”
And he said, surprisingly uneasy:
“Of course not! All those yarns
are pure fraud, or superstition. My
ra 1 Old wives’ tales! Or trickery!
That sort of stunt it the stock-in-
trade of professional mediums; but
Houdini demonstrated that he could
achieve, by natural physical means,
every effect the mediums produce.
He exploded the whole fake!”
“I know he did,” Mrs. Greeding
assented; but she added with incon
sequent and maddeningly logical
stubbornness: “And of course I
don’t believe in them—in mediums.
But the fact that Houdini could do
such things by trickery doesn’t
prove that others couldn't do them
by spiritualism does it, Ned? I
mean, just because I can tip a chair
over with my hands doesn’t prove
that you can’t tip it over by just
looking at it!”
He said harshly, feeling himself
accused, a sudden clutch at his
throat: “I, Myra? Nonsense! I
don’t pretend to any psychic pow
ers!”
“Of course not!” she cried. “I
didn’t mean you. I meant—any
one.” And she added: “Profes
sor Carlisle says there are so many
things which couldn't happen, and
didn’t happen—and yet they did
happen!”
“Tosh!” he protested.
“Well, anyway,” she declared, “I
wish this poltergeist, or whatever it
was, would put my statuette back
together again.”
Doctor Greeding did not like this
conversation. It struck too close
home. He turned into their own
drive with deep relief.
At the door of her dressing-room
Mrs. Greeding kissed him good-
night. “Now, don’t worry about that
poor man who was killed, Ned,”
she insisted.
He smiled ruefully, and he said:
"I know it’s absurd, but—I do feel
responsible. I think I’ll check up,
find out whether his family is left
in straits.”
She said fondly: “You’d carry
all the world’s burdens on your
shoulders if you could. Good night."
Till she slept she could hear him
moving about in his room next to
hers. He had, in fact, no inclination
for sleep. In pajamas and dress
ing-gown, he sat for a while trying
to read, but the book failed to hold
him ... It was of course absurd to
suppose that his own wish could
have caused that man’s death; and
yet Doctor Greeding was disturbed.
There were emotions which poisoned
a man’s soul and his body too; could
it be possible that hate and anger
might sometimes be like deadly
shafts projected into the world?
He himself was almost immune
to these passions; he prided him
self on this fact, and he thought re
gretfully of his anger of a while
ago. So, seeing the cause of it, he
remembered Nancy, and the prob
lem she presented. There was a
new kindliness in Doctor Greeding
tonight. Of course, he decided, if
Nancy truly loved Dan, he would not
want her to marry Jerrell; yet she
might be led to weigh the one man
against the other, might make for
herself the wise and sensible choice.
It occurred to him inconsequent-
ly that if Nancy married Dan, Mary
Ann would become like a member of
the family; and that prospect had
attractions. But his thoughts in
the end returned to the dead man,
and to the broken statuette; and he
remembered at last what Mrs.
Greeding had said about this ab
surdity of poltergeists. It was an
absurdity; and yet he wished sud
denly to be informed on the subject,
and with this purpose in mind he
went downstairs to select as the
only ready source of information a
volume of the encyclopedia,
Nancy came home while he was
there, met him in the lower hall.
She exclaimed: “Why, Father! Still
up?”
He put his arm around her, proud
ly kissed her. She was beautiful,
straight, slender, young and strong.
"I wasn’t sleepy, Nancy,” he con
fessed. “Came down to get a book.”
She looked at the volume under
his arm. “The encyclopedia! That
will put you to sleep, certainly.”
“Theater tonight?” he asked
“Yes,” she agreed. “With Juditb
Plank.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Magna Charta Signed by
King John’s Royal Mark
Every schoolboy knows that
Magna Charta was signed by King
John at Runnymede on June 15th.
1215, observes a writer in London
Answers Magazine.
But every schoolboy happens to
be wrong! Magna Charta was never
signed at all—for the very good
reason that King John was quite
unable to write even his own name.
In this he was not alone. Most of
the British rulers of that time—and
those on the Continent, for that mat
ter—were ignorant of the use of
a pen.
And so Magna Charta bore at the
foot an apparently meaningless
mark which was called, perhaps to
the secret delight of his Majesty,
“the royal signature.”
However, the barons made sure
that there were plenty of witnesses
to the "signing,” and John would
never have dared to repudiate his
mark.
Only fragments of the original
Charta remain, most of it having
been destroyed by fire 200 years
ago.
Pattern 1097
Miss Five-to-Twelve will be
snug, warm and proud in a
hand-crocheted cap, scarf, and
muff-set of plain crochet, with
picot-stitch trim. Pattern 1097
contains directions for making
the set in 5 through 12 year size
(all given in one pattern); il
lustrations of it and of all
stitches used; material require
ments.
Send 15 cents in stamps or
coins (coins preferred) for this
pattern to The Sewing Circle
Needlecraft Dept., 82 Eighth
Ave., New York, N. Y.
Write plainly your name, ad
dress and pattern number.
Keep your body free of accumulat
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ant Pellets. 60 Pellets 30 cents. Adv.
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