anaheim-gazette 1934-06-28

FIRST INSTALLMENT Life was not real. It was a castle of lovely brittle glass, and it was cracking and splintering all around her. The girl in the cream-colored roadster tried to realize it in all its ugly implications, tried to see her way through the bristling wreckage which had closed in on her. Things didn't happen like that; they simply didn't. To some, perhaps, to the reckless and hardboiled who did things that invited disaster; lived on excitement and wild parties. Not to girls who led normal, healthy lives and did the usual pleasant, agreeable things, and were thrilled to pieces over their work and the glorious chance of success in it. It could not happen. But it had. What was she going to do about it? The girl kept haunted young eyes on the road ahead, mechanically efficient while her thoughts darted and turned, hunting frantically for a way out. The speedometer needle trembled at sixty, and slid back to forty-five. She must not drive too fast, and risk being stopped for speeding. Of all times, not now. What was she going to do? For the first time the firm little hands on the wheel slackened and shook, but she steadied them again resolutely. The roadster hummed softly on. The wind that rushed by her face was sharp with the night chill and damp with the smell of the Pacific. Long fingers of light reached out for her and were dimmed; a nondescript saddle. "Better detour inland if you're going far. The fog's getting thick back there. Driving's going to be bad before long." "Thanks, I'll remember." She smiled, and the cream-colored roadster slid past him. Fog, and dangerous driving along the coast road. It was so very simple. She had been up and down this road a score of times since the new roadster had been hers. She knew its curves, its grades, its ragged coast line. She knew, now, where she was going. The speedometer needle crept a little higher. A road appeared, branching obliquely from the main highway. Tall trees marched along each side of it, and a denser planting showed ahead. In the darkness beneath the trees she brought the roadster to a standstill, and let her hands drop from the wheel. It was lucky that she had remembered this place. So accessible and yet so secluded, with no curious eyes to see the queer preparations that she had to make. Funny how wobbly she felt, now that she could just drop back and let go. It wouldn't do. She must get herself in hand, keep her head clear and her nerve steady. It was not so easy. She seemed to be two people, and one of them was a sly, persistent imp which hovered close to her ear, fleering and wheedling. "You're running away! Running away! You've never been a quitter before." "But I've never," she found herself swung smoothly out of drive and down toward the road was dark, but out lights. Time enclosed those on. There must could remember, later, of flaring lights. On the last turn she of the main road in boo dazzle of oncoming light way, blurring through swept out into the hill own came on. There was no placid here; only rough gravy headland, now farther away, dropping eighth of a mile beyond a place where it jutted sea. There it was. A quiet skipping ever her sight of it, vaguely out distance would she twenty feet before strik It would be too danger She brought the car she still. Shut off the engine. For a moment she sauntered alert. There was except for the heavy sea below. Even though muffle distant sounds, enough yet to matter engine again. Her heart was beat stepped down. The roaring at a strange angle. and slid back to forty-five. She must not drive too fast, and risk being stopped for speeding. Of all times, not now. What was she going to do? For the first time the firm little hands on the wheel slackened and shook, but she steadied them again resolutely. The roadster hummed softly on. The wind that rushed by her face was sharp with the night chill and damp with the smell of the Pacific. Long fingers of light reached out for her and were dimmed; a nondescript car rattled past, its driver sending a curious glance at the smart roadster with the pretty girl at the wheel, alone. The air on her cheek was noticeably wet, bringing its own message. A thin fog was creeping in from the sea. Presently it would be thicker, a fleecy white blanket. She saw its woolly whiteness closing silently around a dark beach bungalow, miles back of her, shrouding it, hiding it, smothering sight and sound. There were no lights in that bungalow, to beat through in a golden haze. She saw it as she had last seen it, blank-windowed, dark and furtive on its strip of sheltered beach. A silhouette against the pale rectangle of a door. A man's silhouette. Memories came like black wings, swooping down on her. Other things ... things that were said. She didn't want to think of them. The road curved again. She saw a single light ahead, and her own headlights picked up a motorcycle drawn to one side of the highway, and a man in uniform bending over it. A motorcycle policeman. He looked up, with a professional eye on the oncoming car. She wanted to step on the gas and go roaring past him, but she didn't. Somehow she stopped. Somehow she kept her voice cool and natural. "Any trouble officer? Can I call up a garage for you—or anything?" "Why no, lady. Much obliged." The man in uniform was disillusioned and hardboiled, but he grinned appreciatively at the small creature competently offering help. Drivers of speedy cars didn't usually waste much grief over a motor cop stalled by the roadside. And this was a pretty girl, pretty even for this favored strip of the coast, where pretty girls flocked from all over the country. A little thing, with big soft eyes and a red beret pulled at a gallant angle over a small, dark head. Looked like a nice kid, for all she was tearing around the country alone at this hour of the night. A swell car too; it must have cost a hatful of money. Later he was to remember that car, and the girl who had driven to make... Funny how wobbly she felt, now that she could just drop back and let go... It wouldn't do. She must get herself in hand, keep her head clear and her nerve steady. It was not so easy. She seemed to be two people, and one of them was a sly, persistent imp which hovered close to her ear, fleering and wheedling. "You're running away! Running away! You've never been a quitter before." "But I've never," she found herself arguing, "been in such a ghastly jam before." "If you go now, you can't come back. You'll be giving up everything. All this that you've worked for. You can't ever go back to that." "I know. That's all finished..." She shook herself impatiently and swung the door open with a vigorous jab. The pocket of her light sports coat bumped clumsily against her as she stepped down. She stood very still for a moment, with an odd, arrested look on her face. Then she thrust her hand into the overloaded pocket and drew out the thing which had weighed it down. Starlight had all but vanished before the stealing mist, but even in that security it was a bright and lovely trifle, a woman's jeweled bag, extraordinarily full. The strained catch must have been too hastily snapped shut, for it yawned open at a touch, and the bulging contents oozed into view. Bills. The bag was fairly stuffed with them, high denomination bills, tightly crammed in. The girl in the red beret stared at it soberly. It seemed to give her no pleasure, not even any particular sense of the risk she ran in carrying such a sum with her, through lonely roads and at all hours of the night. She just let the bag lie there on her open hand, looking at it. There was a faint aversion in that look. The palm tilted slowly as though she meant deliberately to let that opulent roll slide to the dust at her feet. Then with a brief grimace of distaste she righted her hand again, thrust the bag deep into the coat pocket and turned, a little blindly, back to the car. The girl looked very small beside the big car young and troubled, yet somehow determined, and every move now was brisk and efficient: A vigorous tug, and a smart traveling case came out of the car—was hidden behind a mass of shrubbery. "Lucky," she reflected, "that I all set to stay... If there is any luck in such a miserable snarl as this." She slipped quickly into her seat to make... Funny how wobbly she felt, now that she could just drop back and let go... It wouldn't do. She must get herself in hand, keep her head clear and her nerve steady. It was not so easy. She seemed to be two people, and one of them was a sly, persistent imp which hovered close to her ear, fleering and wheedling. "You're running away! Running away! You've never been a quitter before." "But I've never," she found herself arguing, "been in such a ghastly jam before." "If you go now, you can't come back. You'll be giving up everything. All this that you've worked for. You can't ever go back to that." "I know. That's all finished..." She shook herself impatiently and swung the door open with a vigorous jab. The pocket of her light sports coat bumped clumsily against her as she stepped down. She stood very still for a moment, with an odd, arrested look on her face. Then she thrust her hand into the overloaded pocket and drew out the thing which had weighed it down. Starlight had all but vanished before the stealing mist, but even in that security it was a bright and lovely trifle, a woman's jeweled bag, extraordinarily full. The strained catch must have been too hastily snapped shut, for it yawned open at a touch, and the bulging contents oozed into view. Bills. The bag was fairly stuffed with them, high denomination bills, tightly crammed in. The girl in the red beret stared at it soberly. It seemed to give her no pleasure, not even any particular sense of the risk she ran in carrying such a sum with her, through lonely roads and at all hours of the night. She just let the bag lie there on her open hand, looking at it. There was a faint aversion in that look. The palm tilted slowly as though she meant deliberately to let that opulent roll slide to the dust at her feet. Then with a brief grimace of distaste she righted her hand again, thrust the bag deep into the coat pocket and turned, a little blindly, back to the car. The girl looked very small beside the big car young and troubled, yet somehow determined, and every move now was brisk and efficient: A vigorous tug, and a smart traveling case came out of the car—was hidden behind a mass of shrubbery. "Lucky," she reflected, "that I all set to stay... If there is any luck in such a miserable snarl as this." She slipped quickly into her seat to make... Funny how wobbily she felt, now that she could just drop back and let go... It wouldn't do. She must get herself in hand, keep her head clear and her nerve steady. It was not so easy. She seemed to be two people, and one of them was a sly, persistent imp which hovered close to her ear, fleering and wheedling. "You're running away! Running away! You've never been a quitter before." "But I've never," she found herself arguing, "been in such a ghastly jam before." "If you go now, you can't come back. You'll be giving up everything. All this that you've worked for. You can't go back to that." "I know. That's all finished..." She shook herself impatiently and swung the door open with a vigorous jab. The pocket of her light sports coat bumped clumsily against her as she stepped down. She stood very still for a moment, with an odd, arrested look on her face. Then she thrust her hand into the overloaded pocket and drew out the thing which had weighed it down. Starlight had all but vanished before the stealing mist, but even in that security it was a bright and lovely trifle, a woman's jeweled bag, extraordinarily full. The strained catch must have been too hastily snapped shut, for it yawned open at a touch, and the bulging contents oozed into view. Bills. The bag was fairly stuffed with them, high denomination bills, tightly crammed in. The girl in the red beret stared at it soberly. It seemed to give her no pleasure, not even any particular sense of the risk she ran in carrying such a sum with her, through lonely roads and at all hours of the night. She just let the bag lie there on her open hand, looking at it. There was a faint aversion in that look. The palm tilted slowly as though she meant deliberately to let that opulent roll slide to the dust at her feet. Then with a brief grimace of distaste she righted her hand again, thrust the bag deep into the coat pocket and turned, a little blindly, back to the car. The girl looked very small beside the big car young and troubled, yet somehow determined, and every move now was brisk and efficient: A vigorous tug, and a smart traveling case came out of the car—was hidden behind a mass of shrubbery. "Lucky," she reflected, "that I all set to stay... If there is any luck in such a miserable snarl as this." She slipped quickly into her seat to make... Funny how wobbily she felt, now that she could just drop back and let go... It wouldn't do. She must get herself in hand, keep her head clear and her nerve steady. It was not so easy. She seemed to be two people, and one of them was a sly, persistent imp which hovered close to her ear, fleering and wheedling. "You're running away! Running away! You've never been a quitter before." "But I've never," she found herself arguing, "been in such a ghastly jam before." "If you go now, you can't come back. You'll be giving up everything. All this that you've worked for. You can't go back to that." over a motor cop stalled by the roadside. And this was a pretty girl, pretty even for this favored strip of the coast, where pretty girls flocked from all over the country. A little thing, with big soft eyes and a red beret pulled at a gallant angle over a small, dark head. Looked like a nice kid, for all she was tearing around the country alone at this hour of the night. A swell car too; it must have cost a hatful of money. Later he was to remember that car, and the girl who had driven it. He swung a sturdy leg over his bag deep into the coat pocket and turned, a little blindly, back to the car. The girl looked very small beside the big car, very young and troubled, yet somehow determined, and every move now was brisk and efficient: A vigorous tug, and a smart travelling case came out of the car—was hidden behind a mass of shrubbery. "Lucky," she reflected, "that I was all set to stay... If there is any luck in such a miserable snarl as this." She slipped quickly into her seat again, and the engine's heavy purr cut abruptly into the stillness. The roadster HOLD TIGHT EVERYBODY AND WELL ZOOM AROUND THE WORLD AND PICK UP WHAT INTERESTING FACTS WE CAN. WASHINGTON'S FAVORITE WHITE CHARGER WAS KNOWN AS LEXINGTON...HE ALSO RODE BRADDOCK, GREENWAY, FAIRFAX, DOLLY AND NELSON ON FREQUENT OCCASIONS. THE ONLY PRESIDENT UNITED STATES WIRED INSTRATION HAD NO CHANGES. RICE IS AS OLD AS HISTORY. PROBABLY IT HAD ITS ORIGIN IN INDIA APPROximately 3,000 BC. FROM A PLANT CALLED NEWAREE & NIVARIA ~ RICE IS MENTIONED IN THE TALMUD AND IS REFERRED TO BY NUMEROUS GREEK & ROMAN WRITERS. THE SAHARA DESERT IN THE NORTHERN PART OF THE LARGEST CONTINUOUS DESERT IN THE WORLD IS ESTIMATED TO BE OVER 3,500,000 SQUARE swung smoothly out of the shadowed drive and down toward the highway. The fog had thickened perceptibly and the road was dark, but she drove without lights. Time enough to switch those on. There must be no one who could remember, later, a distant glimpse of flaring lights. On the last turn she had a good view of the main road in both directions. No dazzle of oncoming lights showed either way, blurring through the fog. She swept out into the highway, and her own came on. There was no placid strips of beach here; only rough ground and dark rocky headland, now fairly close, now farther away, dropping sheer. About an eighth of a mile beyond there should be a place where it jutted boldly into the sea. There it was. A queer little tingle went skipping over her as she caught sight of it, vaguely outlined. How much distance would she need? Ten—no twenty feet before striking the incline. It would be too dangerous beyond that. She brought the car slowly to a standstill. Shut off the engine. For a moment she sat listening every nerve alert. There was not a sound, except for the heavy murmur of the sea below. Even though fog might muffle distant sounds, it wasn't dense enough yet to matter. She started the engine again. Her heart was beating fast as she stepped down. The roadster was pointing at a strange angle. It looked so EARL R. ABBEY "This fact is disclosed," said the announcement, "only to show that my effort to administer the office impartially as well as efficiently, has met with the universal approval and endorse- recorded November 1st, 1930, in Book 433, page 85 of Official Records of Orange County, California, did grant and convey the property therein and hereinafter described, to the Orange County Title Company, as Trustee, to secure, among other obligations, the payment of one promissory note dated October 10th, 1930, payable to THE EQUITABLE LIFE ASSURANCE SOCIETY OF THE UNITED STATES, or order, for the principal sum of $2500.00, with interest at the rate of 6% per annum, principal and interest due in monthly installments of $27.73 each on the 1st day of each month beginning November 1st, 1930; and WHEREAS, default has occurred in that the installment of principal and interest due on said note on October 1st, 1933, has not been paid; and WHEREAS, The Equitable Life Assurance Society of the United States owner and holder of said note heretofore demanded that said Trustee sell said property and on March 26th, 1934, duly recorded in the office of the County Recorder of said County, in Book 664, page 363 of Official Records thereof, a notice of said default and of its election to cause said property to be sold and more than three months have now elapsed since the recordation of said notice. The sum of $2060.29 principal and interest thereon from December 31, 1933, plus interest on $2161.29 from September 1, 1933 to December 31, 1933 is now due, owing and unpaid on said note and there is also secured by said Deed-of Trust the Trustee's fee and expenses of sale, estimated at $223.00, together with $61.21 paid and advanced by the owner of said note in accordance with the provisions of said Deed of Trust, with interest on said last mentioned sum from March 14th, 1934. NOW THEREFORE, NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN that the said Orange County Title Company, by virtue of the authority vested in it as Trustee under said Deed of Trust, will sell at public auction, to the highest bidder for cash, lawful money of the United States, on It would be too dangerous beyond that. She brought the car slowly to a standstill. Shut off the engine. For a moment she sat listening every nerve alert. There was not a sound, except for the heavy murmur of the sea below. Even though fog might muffle distant sounds, it wasn't dense enough yet to matter. She started the engine again. Her heart was beating fast as she stepped down. The roadster was pointing at a strange angle. It looked so sleek and beautiful, and she let a hand rest on it softly. This was a shabby trick to play on a good friend, but it had to be done. She would miss it, too. There was no time to be wasted. She stepped up and leaned in, and her hands moved swiftly and competently. She gave a last tug and a hasty glance toward the naked ledge beyond. The car lurched and started, and left the smooth road with a protesting heave. It was gathering speed, bumping over the uneven ground. She jumped, staggered for a few steps and fell. Huddled there on hands and knees, panting but unhurt, she saw the big car strike the slope and go hurtling down. Lurching, with lights flaring toward the empty sea. On the brink it seemed almost to rear back, hung for a split second and flashed down. She saw it turning, and pressed her hands to her ears against the grinding crash of its fall. The silence that followed was blank and empty. She pulled her hands down shamefacedly and found the palms moist. "That's done!" she muttered shakily, and got to her feet. Her face was a white patch against the darkness. She knew that she must hurry away, before some belated motorist came by and saw her. A girl in a red beret had ceased to exist, and her flitting ghost must not be seen. How queer it seemed ... there wasn't any such girl any more. A dusty empty country. It was a short train, only three coaches and a baggage car, and the coaches had left their first youth far behind. But this was a branch line, crawling long miles out of the beaten track of the big transcontinental, and Number Twelve's patrons did not expect the pampered ease of Pullman and dining car. About midway of the last car a girl sat looking out of the window. The outlook was not particularly interesting, that she should be so absorbed in it. Sand and low bushes, endlessly slipping by. A distant peak. A smear of which might still be more disgusting. EARL R. ABBEY "This fact is disclosed," said the announcement, "only to show that my effort to administer the office impartially as well as efficiently, has met with the universal approval and endorsement of the business group most nearly in a position to observe and judge my qualifications." "It is hoped and believed that my efforts likewise have met with approval of others generally, since I have exerted myself to the utmost to administer my sometime difficult and delicate duties with the sympathetic understanding that should always reside in this office." As to Abbey's qualifications for the office of coroner and public administrator, to which he was appointed by unanimous vote of the county board of supervisors February 16, 1932, to fill the vacancy left by the death of Charles D. Brown, the announcement: said: "A long period of former services as deputy county clerk, which involved close association with probate matters and other court procedure, provided valuable experience and exceptional training for the office of Public Administrator, as well as coroner." Abbey has resided in Orange County since 1906. He was an Anaheim business man and newspaper publisher prior to entering public service in 1919, and is said to have one of the widest circles of acquaintances of any man in the county. The girl hadn't seen a house for miles. The scattered half dozen of her fellow passengers looked at her with undeniable frequency, partly because she was the pleasantest think there was to look at in their whole journey, and partly from a healthy curiosity. Strangers, and particularly strangers as pretty as that, did not often travel on Number Twelve. The girl felt that friendly scrutiny. She had been restless under any interested glance for days, and it was not merely interest in the harsh waste beyond the window which kept her face so steadily turned that way. She wondered, with a prickle of uneasiness, what newspaper people saw out here. Newspapers! She turned a little further toward the window, remembering a terrifying, heart-squeezing day when she had last heard them cried on the streets of a big city. NOW THEREFORE, NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN that the said Orange County Title Company, by virtue of the authority vested in it as Trustee under said Deed of Trust, will sell at public auction, to the highest bidder for cash, lawful money of the United States, on the 23rd day of July, 1934, at the hour of eleven o'clock A.M., of said day at the North entrance of the Hall of Records in the City of Santa Ana, California, all of the interest conveyed to it by said Deed of Trust in and to all the following described property situated in the City of Anaheim, County of Orange, State of California, described as follows, to-wit: The Southerly 60 feet of Lots One Hundred Four (104) and One Hundred Five (105) in Block "H" of "Helmann & George's Map of Addition Building Lots," as shown on a Map recorded in Book 2, page 249 of Miscellaneous Records of Los Angeles County, California or so much of said property as shall be necessary to be sold to provide a sum sufficient to pay the total amount secured by said Deed of Trust. Dated this 27th day of June, 1934. ORANGE COUNTY TITLE COMPANY, (Corporate By H. A. GARDNER, Seal) President. By GEO. A. PARKER, Secretary. 6/28, 7/5-12, 34 NOTICE OF SALE BY TRUSTEE NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN that on the 16th day of July, 1934, at the hour of 10:00 o'clock A.M. of said day, at the North entrance to the Hall of Records, in the City of Santa Ana, County of Orange, State of California, the BANK OF AMERICA NATIONAL TRUST AND SAVINGS ASSOCIATION, (the successor to all the rights, powers and duties of The First National Bank of Anaheim), a corporation, organized and existing at the time of the execution of the deed of trust herein-after referred to) as Trustee under a certain Deed of Trust executed by J.W. STEIN and EDITH STEIN, husband and wife, and recorded December 20, 1927, in Book 118, page 92 of Official Records of Orange County, California, which was given to secure a promissory note for the sum of $1,100.00, with interest at the rate of eight per cent per baggage car, and the coaches had left their first youth far behind. But this was a branch line, crawling long miles out of the beaten track of the big transcontinental, and Number Twelve's patrons did not expect the pampered ease of Pullman and dining car. About midway of the last car a girl sat looking out of the window. The outlook was not particularly interesting; that she should be so absorbed in it. Sand and low bushes, endlessly slipping by. A distant peak. A smear of blue which might be still more distant mountains. Sand, bushes, sand. The girl felt that friendly scrutiny. She had been restless under any interested glance for days, and it was not merely interest in the harsh waste beyond the window which kept her face so steadily turned that way. She wondered, with a prickle of uneasiness, what newspaper people saw out here. Newspapers! She turned a little further toward the window, remembering a terrifying, heart-squeezing day when she had last heard them cried on the streets of a big city. What a morning that had been! The cheerful Saturday crowd thronging the downtown streets, jamming good-naturedly at the crossings; newsboys shouting their wares; people buying them, talking about something that had just happened. Herself among them, feeling curiously unreal as she handed over her pennles, and rather small and quaking as she looked at a front page splashed with headlines and pictures. Her picture. Feeling all chilly and gone inside, even though the face on the front page was so different from that of the girl on the street, with her hair under a low-brimmed hat. Putting nervous finger tips up to the framing hair, to make sure that it completely hid the uncomfortable strips of adhesive which gave her eyes and eyebrows that long, unfamiliar tilt. Wondering if the tiny pads under her lip were still properly in place, and if they really did change her mouth as much as she had thought—and then passing a long mirror and seeing a queer-looking stranger there. Thanking her stars—her one remaining star—that she had learned how to do such things. Hurrying at last to a railroad station, to get as far away as she could before another day came. Continued Next Week NOTICE OF SALE OF REAL PROPERTY BY TRUSTEE UNDER DEED OF TRUST TRUST NO. 801 WHEREAS, CHARLES W. HILL by Deed of Trust, dated October 10th, 1930, powers and duties of The First National Bank of Anaheim, a corporation, organized and existing at the time of the execution of the deed of trust herein-after referred to) as Trustee under a certain Deed of Trust executed by J. W. STEIN and EDITH STEIN, husband and wife, and recorded December 20, 1927, in Book 118, page 92 of Official Records of Orange County, California, which was given to secure a promissory note for the sum of $1,100.00, with interest at the rate of eight per cent per annum, principal and interest being payable in monthly installments of $12.85 each, on the first day of each and every month, beginning December 1, 1927, in accordance with the terms of said deed of trust, and in compliance with a notice of default and demand for sale of the property in the said deed of trust and hereinafter described, recorded on March 14, 1934, in Book 666, page 73 of Official Records of Orange County, California, executed by the owner and holder of said note on account of the default in the payment of the installment which became due and payable under the terms of said note on February 1, 1933, and all payments due subsequently thereto, there being a total sum of $769.63 due and unpaid on the 26th day of February, 1934, and all payments due subsequently thereto—will sell at public auction, for cash, lawful money of the United States, and to the highest bidder, subject to liens and encumbrances prior to said deed of trust, the following described property, situate in the County of Orange, State of California: Lot No. 62 of Tract No. 714, Homewood, as shown on a Map recorded in Book 21, page 12 of Miscellaneous Maps, Records of Orange County, California, or so much thereof as shall be necessary to pay the principal, interest, advances, charges, costs and trustee's fees due and unpaid at the date of said sale. Dated June 18, 1934. BANK OF AMERICA NATIONAL TRUST AND 1930, in Book Special Records of California, did grant property therein and to the Orange Bay, as Trustee, to obligations, the issuory note dated payable to THE ASSURANCE UNITED STATES, principal sum of at the rate of capital and interest of each month betained, 1930; and has occurred in of principal and note on October paid; and Equitable Life the United States said note heretosaid Trustee sell March 26th, 1934, office of the County County, in Book 664, records thereof, a and of its elecperty to be sold months have now recordation of said $2060.29 principal from December on $2161.29 from December 31, 1933 said unpaid on said so secured by said Trustee's fee and estimated at $223.00, said and advanced note in accordions of said Deed set on said last March 14th, 1934. NOTE IS that the said Orange by virtue of the as Trustee under will sell at public bidder for cash. United States, on SAVINGS ASSOCIATION, By R. D. Fuller, Trust Officer, And W. Dale Bell, Assistant Trust Officer. (Successor to The First National Bank of Anaheim, a corporation). 6/21-28; 7/5-12, 1934. NOTICE OF SALE OF REAL PROPERTY BY TRUSTEE UNDER DEED OF TRUST TRUST NO. 601 WHEREAS, J. WARNER SWAIN, a single man, by Deed of Trust, dated August 30th, 1929, recorded September 5th, 1929 in Book 305, page 272 of Official Records of Orange County, California, did grant and convey the property therein and hereinafter described, to the Orange County Title Company, as Trustee, to secure, among other obligations, the payment of one promissory note dated August 30th, 1929, payable to HOME MUTUAL BUILDING AND LOAN ASSOCIATION OF SANTA ANA, or order, for the principal sum of $2200.00, with interest at the rate of 7.8% per annum, principal and interest due in monthly installments of $27.50 each on the 1st day of each month beginning December 1st, 1929; and WHEREAS, default has occurred in that the installment of principal and interest due on said note on October 1st, 1932, has not been paid; and WHEREAS, PACIFIC STATES SAVINGS AND LOAN COMPANY, then owner and holder of said note heretofore demanded that said Trustee sell said property and on June 12th, 1933, duly recorded in the office of the County Recorder of said County, in Book 617, page 462 of Official Records thereof, a notice of said default and of its election to cause said property to be sold and more than three months have now elapsed since the recordation of said notice. The sum of $1758.55 principal line of poles over and across Lot One (1) in Block Sixty (60) of the "Buena Park Tract," conveyed by J. F. Simpson to the Southern California Edison Company, by deed recorded in Book 178, page 40 of Deeds, records of Orange County, California. or so much of said property as shall be necessary to be sold to provide a sum sufficient to pay the total amount secured by said Deed of Trust. Dated this 20th day of June, 1934. ORANGE COUNTY TITLE COMPANY, (Corporate By H. A. GARDNER, Seal) President. By GEO. A. PARKER, Secretary. 6/28, 7/5-12, 1934 TREASURY DEPARTMENT Office of the Comptroller of the Currency Washington, D. C. May 31, 1934. Notice is hereby given to all persons who may have claims against "Anahlm First National Bank," Anaheim, California, that the same must be presented to J. V. Hogan, Receiver, with the legal proof thereof within three months from this date or they may be disallowed. J. F. T. O'CONNOR, Comptroller of the Currency. 5/31-9/6, 1934, Inclusive. WHEREAS, PACIFIC STATES SAVINGS AND LOAN COMPANY, then owner and holder of said note herefore demanded that said Trustee sell said property and on June 12th, 1933, duly recorded in the office of the County Recorder of said County, in Book 617, page 462 of Official Records thereof, a notice of said default and of its election to cause said property to be sold and more than three months have now elapsed since the recordation of said notice. The sum of $1758.55 principal less $20.07 credit from installment share, and interest thereon from September 5th, 1932, is now due, owing and unpaid on said note and there is also secured by said Deed of Trust the Trustee's fee and expenses of sale, estimated at $203.00. NOW THEREFORE, NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN that the said Orange County Title Company, by virtue of the authority vested in it as Trustee under said Deed of Trust, will sell at public auction, to the highest bidder for cash, lawful money of the United States, on the 23rd day of July, 1934, at the hour of eleven o'clock A.M., of said day at the North entrance of the Hall of Records in the City of Santa Ana, California, all of the interest conveyed to it by said Deed of Trust in and to all the following described property situated in the County of Orange, State of California, described as follows, to-wit— Lot Forty-three (43) of "Tract No. 397", as shown on a Map recorded in Book 16, page 38 of Miscellaneous Maps, records of Orange County, California. Subject to a right of way for a Rev. I. N. Demy says: I have found nothing in the past 20 years that can take the place of Dr. Miles Anti-Pain Pills. They are a sure relief for my headache." 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CAMPBELL, Resident Director 251 No. Lemon Street ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Eye, Ear, Nose and Throat Dentist—Painless Extration Oculist—Glasses Fitted 107½ E. Center Street ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Office Phone 3213 Residence 887 South Los Angeles St Residence Phone 2610 Hours: — 11-12; 2-4; 7-8 J. W. Truxaw, M.D. PHYSICIAN & SURGEON Golden State Bank Bldg. Cor Center and Los Angeles Sts. ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Telephone 4105 DeLuxe Ambulance Service HILGENFELD'S FUNERAL HOME South Lemon at Broadway ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA Sash and Doors Nagel-Gohres & Co. 418 S. Lemon St. ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA ANAHEIM FEED AND FUEL CO. Dealers in GRAIN - FLOUR - SEEDS - WOOD - COAL - HAY Phone 3210 W. D. GRAFTON, Prop Public Weighing Scales 242 W. Center St.