anaheim-gazette 1934-04-12

THIRTEENTH INSTALLMENT THE STORY SO FAR Nancy Gordon trades herself in marriage with Dr. Richard Morgan for fifteen thousand dollars—to save her family from the disgrace of her brother Roddy's theft of that amount for a woman. Nancy loves penniless young Page Roemer, and Richard is loved by Helena Haddon, a sophisticated young married woman. Kingdon Haddon, Helena's husband, sees the clopers, but holds his council. After the ceremony, Nancy returns to her parents' home and continues to see Page, who urges her to divorce her husband. Mr. Gordon, to release his daughter from what he considers her shameful marriage, sells his house to his friend Major Lomax, who rents it to the original owner. Helena is jealous of Richard's interest in Nancy, although she knows nothing of the marriage, and tries to make trouble. Once Page comes to Nancy's home and makes love to her, Nancy frantic—she loves Page but refuses to go back on her bargain with Richard by divorcing him. Now Go On With the Story. The world would say "no." His own selfish ego cried, no, not now! Then he looked at the girl. girl that was like balm to a sore heart. Angie met Nancy in the kitchen; she had gone there for some hot water for her uncle. "He's got one of his awful attacks of gout, Nancy," she explained, flushing a little at the sight of her visitor, "he's as cross as two sticks, but I'm sure he'd like to see you." The old man was huddled up in a big morris-chair. "My soul!" he let his eyes rest on the pair with a twinge of approval as sharp as his twinge of gout. "Where d'you drop from, Nancy Virginia?" Nancy smiled more naturally than she had for days. "I've come to help Angle take care of you," she said. The major chuckled. "I'll soon scare you off!" Nancy sat down on a low stool beside the old man's chair. "I've come to thank you, major," she said faintly, blushing and paling by turns, "with—all my heart!" "Eh?" he gave her an angry look, his brows down, "what for?" "For buying our house—" He snorted. "Glad to get rid of it then?" She shook her head. Speech was going to be very difficult. "You've The world would say "no." His own selfish ego cried, no, not now! Then he looked at the girl. She looked like a broken lily. All the blood in his body surged up into his head; he turned hot with rage. Damn him, he should not keep her! "Nancy!" he flung himself down beside the girl, hot with his rage and passion. "Nancy, I love you," he cried, "I adore you!" he seized her poor shaking little hands and covered them with kisses. The girl quivered at his touch. His hot lips on her hands sent the blood back to her heart. Love—dumb, agonized, denied—struggled in her breast. "Oh, Page!" she gasped. "I — I thought no one cared any more!" Nancy felt the fierce intake of his breath, she seemed to feel his love enfolding her, crushing her. A wild relief shot through her, a wild thrill of happiness, of love. "Page, you mustn't! I — oh, I've behaved like a bad woman!" she wailed, "you've got a right now to despise me, to think I'd—I'd do anything when I behave like this—why, IAGE I—I'm married!" "Married?" he snapped his fingers, "that for such a marriage! I'll break it—listen to me, Nancy, I'm a lawyer, I'll break it—I'll—" "You'll leave this house, sir. That's what you'll do!" They both recoiled. Mr. Gordon was standing in the door, looking at them, his face on fire, his eyes bloodshot, his iron gray hair standing up in a frill on top of his head. "Do you hear me, sir, you'll leave the house." Roemer swung around, facing the older man, for a moment shamed. "Mr. Gordon, I can't bear this! I know the truth. Nancy told me—she's been dragged into a secret marriage. If it were right, if she loved him, I could stand it. As it is I'm here. I'll always be here, ready to serve her, to get a divorce for her, to set her free." Mr. Gordon make a furious gesture with one hand. "That's enough! I understand. Now—go!" He was shaking with rage and Nancy saw it, she looked at Roemer imploringly. Nancy sat down on a low stool beside the old man's chair. "I've come to thank you, major," she said faintly, blushing and paling by turns, "with—all my heart!" "Eh?" he gave her an angry look, his brows down, "what for?" "For buying our house—" He snorted. "Glad to get rid of it then?" She shook her head. Speech was going to be very difficult. "You've—let us stay in it!" The major settled back in his chair, staring hard at her quivering face. "Your father's paying rent," he remarked dryly, "I'd call him a pretty good tenant — says he'll make his own repairs." "Someone else might have turned us out—and—" Nancy's voice broke so that Angie dropped down on the floor beside her holding her hand. "We all loyg it!" she faltered. The major stirred his tea. "Where's Roddy?" he asked, abruptly, "still doing well?" Angie felt Nancy's quick intake of breath; the girl full of her own thoughts of Roddy divined that there was something wrong. "I had a letter from him yesterday," she said hurriedly, forcing lightness, trying to be unconcerned, "he's — he's all right, major." Angie felt Nancy trembling now, and she jumped up suddenly. "Why there's Dr. Morgan, uncle," she said, "he must have just got back—he's been out all night." "Go let him in," the major set his cup down. "Here, Nancy, stay! I won't be left alone with a doctor. Dick's enough to kill me anyhow." But Nancy was on her feet in a panic. "I've got to go," she panted, "I only came in to thank you—to ask how you were, major!" But he had hold of her hand and he kept her struggling, until the door opened for Richard. "I want you to tell this doctor of ours to treat an old man decently," he said chuckling. "He's starving me to death!" It was the first meeting since that night when Nancy had refused the offer of his name and his home. Richard started perceptibly at the sight of Nancy, but he came in quietly now, greeting them all easily, even cheerfully. "I'm sorry I'm late, major," he said simply, "had a bad case—had to stay all night." The major, releasing Nancy's hand, turned on him crustily. "Killing your- sullenly. He was holding her ing her, and his do straight into hers. "Good heavens, N me so!" he cried violently. She pressed her together, tears of ar- "Let me go," she paired on purpose—I myself at your head He let her go out if she had stung him. "Why don't you go her harshly." She kept her blue fury leaping up in suming flame. "You thought I ran pose!" she said slow didn't want to see you at all. He stood looking at ment, dumb with as something—almost as the blood go up hotly. But he did not watching her, his ow- Nancy told me—she's been dragged into a secret marriage. If it were right, if she loved him, I—I could stand it. As it is I'm here. I'll always be here, ready to serve her, to get a divorce for her, to set her free." Mr. Gordon make a furious gesture with one hand. "That's enough! I understand. Now—go!" He was shaking with rage and Nancy saw it, she looked at Roemer imploringly. "Please go now, Page!" she pleaded. He hesitated and then he turned, took her hand, kissed it and went out passing Mr. Gordon with the air of a conquering hero. "Good day, sir, I'm sorry you misunderstand." "I don't misunderstand," Mr. Gordon thundered, "good day, sir, and good riddance!" The front door closed sharply. Nancy drew a long breath. Mr. Gordon came slowly into the center of the room and stood staring at her. "Is that you idea?" he demanded hoarsely, "to marry one man — for money — and let another make love to you?" The girl lifted her head and looked straight into his eyes. "You're my father," she said simply, "look at me — do you believe I'm like that? That I'd be so — so base? If you do," she cried passionately, "I—I might as well kill myself!" Her father's face worked, there was something like tears in his eyes. "Nancy, my girl!" he held out his arms. She flung herself into them with a low cry of anguish, pressing her face against his shoulder. "I—I loved Page!" she gasped. "I'm wicked—I love him still!" It was only two or three days later that Nancy — unable to endure the wretchedness of her plight at home—determined to go to Angie Fuller. She could not tell Angie anything. She must kept her own secrets, but there was a soft, pilant sympathy about the truth. It was the first meeting since that night when Nancy had refused the offer of his name and his home. Richard started perceptibly at the sight of Nancy, but he came in quietly now, greeting them all easily, even cheerfully. "I'm sorry I'm late, major," he said simply, "had a bad case—had to stay all night." The major, releasing Nancy's hand, turned on him crustily. "Killing yourself for some old beggar, I'll warrant!" he said sharply. Richard laughed grimly: "I'm harder to kill than that, major." Humph, you look like an owl! Nancy—where's that girl," the old man looked about bewildered. "She went out with Angie," Richard said dryly. "Let me see your foot, major," and he laid hold of the bandages. Meanwhile, Angie found it hard to keep her friend even a moment. But Nancy had utterly forgotten that Angie might be hurt about her brother. DOROTHY DARNIT WHAT'S DANGER CRYING FOR? I SLAPPED HIM. THAT WHY short. Nancy did not look at him. She "I've got to go!" she cried, "Mama wants me—I promised—I'll come again!" She was off, running down the path like a frightened deer. She swung around, ran down to the back fence, climbed over into some blackberry brambles, stumbled and twisted her ankle. She tried to take the short cut to her home but a sudden pang shot agony through her ankle, she stumbled again, went lane and tried to hobble toward the river. She could sit there on the bank until he had gone home, she thought, and then she flushed with anger; she hated herself for being so childish. She winced with shame as much as with the pain in her ankle. Suddenly she determined to walk straight across the field and go home. But her courage failed utterly when she saw that he was taking that way home. If she went a step farther it would look as if she wanted to meet him. There was just time to avoid the encounter. She turned hurriedly and tried to run down the path behind the pine trees. But her hurt ankle suddenly gave way, her foot turned under her and she went down, full length, in the pine needles, not ten yards from the Morgan gate. She was struggling to her knees crimson with mortification, when Richard reached her. "You're hurt!" he exclaimed, bending down to lift her back to her feet. "It's nothing—I stumbled," she said She wrenched her hand free of Angle's detaining fingers, tried to walk straight past him to the point. She did achieve three straight firm steps and then a wince of pain shook her. She wavered, stretched out a hand involuntarily and caught at the nearest branch; it saved her from falling, but her face turned white. He saw it; the angry lover was suddenly merged in the doctor. She was hurt and he could help her. She had done something to her foot in the fall. It would take his skill to mend it. Without a word, he picked her up in his arms and carried her up the long path to his own house. "Don't struggle so!" said Richard sharply, "if you've hurt your ankle, you'll make it worse! I'm going to bind it for you." As he spoke he carried her into his office and put her gently down on the old leather lounge in the corner. Nancy's impulse to spring up vanished with a new pang in her ankle, and he was taking off her shoe and feeling of her foot. Then, ignoring her, he went to the door and called sharply: "Mammy Polk, some hot water!" Nancy, sitting on the side of the lounge, clenched her hands on the edge of it until her knuckles whitened. How cool he was! It made her even hotter with anger to see how cool he was. "Ain't swelled any, Mist' Richard," Mammy Polk observed dryly, on her knees to help him. Nancy winced. "She thinks I'm playing hurt!" she thought. Richard's hands were deft and fine on her ankle. He bound it swiftly, neatly, thoroughly. "There, mammy, that's a figure eight—see?" he said good naturedly, and then, pushing aside the hot water, "that's all, you can take the bowl away now." Mammy rose slowly to her feet. "Reckon you-all forgets I see got ter put on her stockin' fo' her." she remarked with dignity. Salvation Army's Salvage Campaign Purpose Outlined "A Man May Be Down But He Is Never Out" Slogan Used For Big Drive "A man may be down but he's never out." "Lots of articles around your home may be useless to you but they'll help the man who is down." These two slogans, the first an official one of the organization, will sum up the Salvation Army's salvage week appeal now under way here. Sunday has a special significance in the campaign. It is a day for church and meditation, state army officials, and citizens generally are urged to meditate a few moments during the Sunday rest period, on how to help the needy. Reflection will disclose some waste articles which can be collected Monday for a Salvation Army red shield truck. Waste paper, old magazines, castoff clothing, discarded furniture, old shoes, bedding, stoves, in fact anything that might be made useful to "others" will be welcomed by the Salvation Army Men's social service 227 East Center street. "These castoff articles" states Major Sydney Cooke, local army officer, "can, in most cases, be reclaimed. The job of renewing these seemingly useless articles may be given to men who are 'down' and thus give them temporary work and the opportunity from being 'out.'" Drop a post-card to the above address, and a red shield truck will call for your donation. "Are Sin Disease." "It's nothing—I stumbled," she said playing hurt!" she thought. Richard's hands were deft and fine on her ankle. He bound it swiftly, neatly, thoroughly. "There, mammy, that's a figure eight—see?" he said good naturedly, and then, pushing aside the hot water, "that's all, you can take the bowl away now." Mammy rose slowly to her feet. "A reckon you-all forgets Ise got ter put on her stockin' fo' her," she remarked with dignity. But Nancy had snatched it up and pulled it on herself. "I'm going right home," she said. Mammy Polk courtesied. "If you-all wants me I'm right out in de kitchen, peel'in potatoes," she said majestically. "I reckons three ain't comp'n no-ways," she added. Nancy, lacing her shoe frantically, stared after her with furious eyes. "Richard, you've told her!" she cried. He raised his eyes without a smile. "Is there any new reason to hate me, Nancy?" he asked dryly. "I haven't told her." She was ashamed of her unreasonable anger. "I'm sorry," she said in a low voice. "I—I thrust myself into your life. I—was just sordid!" He looked at her, passion in his eyes. "I love you," he answered; "I want the chance to teach you to love me." She shook her head. "You don't know me — II'm not a good woman to have for a wife—I—" she stopped, gasping, and then, hotly: "I've let Page Roemer kiss me—since we were married!" In spite of himself, he started. The instinct of the caveman to seize his woman and keep her, leaped up in him Suddenly he put his arms around Nancy and kissed her. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, her throat. Then she wrenched herself free, hot and trembling. "How dare you!" she cried. "How dare I?" he laughed bitterly. "didn't you tell me that you let Page Roemer kiss you? And I'm your husband! Would you rather have another man kiss you?" She was furious, her face glowed with color. "Let me go," she cried. "I hate you! Let me go—you said you "These castoff articles" states Major Sydney Cooke, local army officer, "can, in most cases, be recclaimed. The job of renewing these seemingly useless articles may be given to men who are 'down' and thus give them temporary work and the opportunity from being 'out.'" Drop a post-card to the above address, and a red shield truck will call for your donation. "Are Sin, Disease, Death Real" Topic "Are Sin, Disease, and Death Real?" This question is the subject of the Lesson-Sermon on Sunday in all Churches of Christ, Scientist, branches of The Mother Church, The First Church of Christ, Scientist, in Boston, Mass. The Golden Text is from Jeremiah; "I will restore health unto thee of thy wounds, saith the Lord." Among the Bible citations in the responsive reading of the Lesson-Sermon are these verses from Luke: "And the fame of him went out into didn't want a woman who didn't love you! Yes, I know it!" he said hoarsely. "I know it—I thought I could let you go, but what if I can't? What if my love is too strong for it—if—" he caught her hands now and held them, looking down at her. Love in his face, love triumphant and beautiful, but dominant and selfish, too. "Suppose I will not let you go?" She panted, trying to break away from his hold, her eyes ablaze with anger. Continued Next Week Wake Up Your Liver Bile —Without Calomel Wake Up Your Liver Bile —Without Calomel And You’ll Jump Out of Bed in the Morning Rarin’ to Go If you feel sour and sunk and the world looks punk, don’t swallow a lot of salts, mineral water, oil, laxative candy or chewing gum and expect them to make you suddenly sweet and buoyant and full of sunshine. For they can’t do it. They only move the bowels and a mere movement doesn’t get at the cause. The reason for your down-and-out feeling is your liver. It should pour out two pounds of liquid bile into your bowels daily. If this bile is not flowing freely, your food doesn't digest. It just decays in the bowels. Gas bloats up your stomach. You have a thick, bad taste and your breath is foul, skin often breaks out in blemishes. Your head aches and you feel down and out. Your whole system is poisoned. It takes those good, old CARTER'S LITTLE LIVER PILLS to get these two pounds of bile flowing freely and make you feel "up and up." They contain wonderful, harmless, gentle vegetable extracts, amazing when it comes to making the bile flow freely. But don't ask for liver pills. Ask for Carter's Little Liver Pills. Look for the name Carter's Little Liver Pills on the red label. Resent a substitute. 25¢ at drug stores. ©1931 C. M. Co. DARNIT I SLAPPED HIM. THAT'S WHY WHAT DID YOU SLAP HIM FOR? HE THREW THAT CAKE AT ME THAT WOULDN'T HURT YOU! OUT MY MADE Army's Campaign Case Outlined Down But He Slogan Used Drive down but he's never around your home you but they'll help you here. Special significance in is a day for church state army officials, really are urged to moments during the on how to help the disclose some waste be collected Monday may red shield truck magazines, castoff furniture, old shoes, fact anything that ful to "others" will the Salvation Army the 227 East Center articles" states Major army officer, "can, reclaimed. The job seemingly useless men to men who dreave them temporary opportunity from being every place of the country round about. And he arose out of the eynagegue, and entered into Simon's house. And Simon's wife's mother was taken with a great fever; and they besought him for her. And he stood over her, and rebuked the fever; and it left her; and immediately she arose and ministered unto them." One of the passages in the Lesson-Sermon, selected from "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures," by Mary Baker Eddy, states: "The theology of Christian Science includes healing the sick. Our Master's first article of faith propounded to his students was healing, and he proved his faith by his works. The ancient Christians were healers." A.B.C. BUSINESS DIRECTORY For Quick Reference Look Under Alphabetical Classification of Business or Profession You Are Seeking. You'll Find This Anaheim Gazette Business Directory Reliable, Convenient and Profitable. USE IT. Funeral Directors Ambulance Service—Day or Night Phone 3209 Backs, Terry & Campbell FUNERAL DIRECTORS H. P. CAMPBELL, Resident Director 251 No. Lemon St., Anaheim, Calif. Physicians & Surgeons Phone 3212 Open Hours Sunday by Appointment DR. OSHER PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Dentist—Painless Extraction. Ocullus—Glasses Fitted. 107½ E. Center St., Anaheim, Calif. Office Phone 3218 Residence $87 South Los Angeles St. Residence Phone 2610 Hours: 11-12; 2-4; 7-8 FUNERAL DIRECTORS H. P. CAMPBELL, Resident Director 251 No. Lemon St., Anaheim, Calif. Telephone 4105 DeLuxe Ambulance Service HILGENFELD'S FUNERAL HOME South Lemon at Broadway ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA ANAHEIM FEED AND FUEL CO. Dealers in GRAIN FLOUR SEEDS WOOD COAL HAY Phone 3210 W. D. GRAFTON, Prop. Public Weighing Scales WHEN CROSSING THE DESERT CAMELS ARE EXPECTED TO CARRY THEIR LOADS 25 MILES A DAY FOR 3 DAYS WITHOUT DRINK... CROCODILES LIVE TO BE 100 YEARS OLD... AND SO LETS BE ON OUR WAY HOME BOYS. WHEN CROSSING THE DESERT CAMELS ARE EXPECTED TO CARRY THEIR LOADS 25 MILES A DAY FOR 3 DAYS WITHOUT DRINK. THE ELEPHANT LIVES TO BE 200 OR 300 YEARS OLD S ARE CALLED PUPS, DESpite THE FACT MULT MALES ARE CALLED BULLS AND COWS. FOXES NEVER HUNT IN PACKS... AND SO LET'S BE ON OUR WAY HOME BOYS. BY CHARLES McManus MY GOODNESS! YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN KILLED!