Newspapers / Carolina Watchman (Salisbury, N.C.) / June 29, 1934, edition 1 / Page 2
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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 croam-colored roadster triad 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, per haps, to the reckless and hardboiled who did things that invited disas ter; lived on Excitement and wild parties. Net to girls who led nor mal, healthy lives and did the usual pleasant, agreeably 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 thq road ahead, mechani cally efficient while her thoughts darted and turned, hunting franti cally for a way out. The speedo meter needle trembled at sixty, and slid back to forty-five. She must not drive too fast, and risk being stopped for speeding. Of all timds, not now. There were no lights in, that bungalow, to beat through in a golden hazef She saw it as she had last seen it, blank-windowed, dark and furtive on its strip of sheltered beach. A silhouettd against the pale rectangle of a door. A man’s silhouetted 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 motor cycle drawn to one sidbt 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 any thing? 'LWhy no, lady. Much oblig 'ed.5* The man in uniform was disillu jsioned and hardboiled, but he grinned appreciatively at the small Icreature pompletely offering help. Drivers of speedy cars didn’t usu ally waste much grief over a motor cop stalled by the roadside. And this was a pretty girl, pretty even for this favored srip 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 h^ad. 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 hq was to remember that car, and the girl who had driven it. He swung a sturdy leg over his saddle. "Better dotour inland if you’re going far. The fog’s getting thick back there. Driving’s going to be bad before long.” "Thanks, I’ll remdmber.” She smiled, and the cream-color ed roadster slid past him. Fog, and dangeSous riving along the coast road. It was so very simple. She had bene up and down this road a score of times since the new roadster had been hers. She knew its curves, grades, its ragged coast linle. 9he knew, now where shie was going. Thef speedometer needle crept a little higher. A road appeared, branching obliquely from tha main highway Tall trees marched along each side of it, and a denser planting showed ahead. In thd darkness beneath the trees she brought the roadster to a standstill, and let her hands drop from the whefel. It was lucky that she had re> 'membered this place. So accessible land yet so sefcluded, with no curi lous eyes to see the queer prepara jtions that she had to makel. . . . . jFunny how wobbly she felt, now 'that she could just drop back and [let go .... It woudn’t do. She must get herself in hand, keeja her head clear and her nerve steady, j 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, fleecing and wheedling. "You’re running away! Run ning away! You’ve never been a quitter before.” "But I’ve never,” she found her self arguing, "been in such a ghast ly jam before.” "If you go now, you can’t come back. You’ll be giving up every thing. All this that you’ve work ed for. You can’t ever go back to that.” "I khofw. That’s alf finished . . . She shook herself impatient ly and swung the door op4n with a vigorous jab. The pocket of her light sports coat bumped clumsily agairtst her as she stopped down. She stood very still for a moment, with an odd, arrested look on her face. Then she thrust her hand into the overloaded pockdt and drew out the thing which had weighed it own. Starlight had all but vanished before the stealing mist, but oven in that obscurity it was a bright and lovely rifle, a woman’s jewel ed bag, extraordinarily full. The| strained catch must have been too hastily snapped shut, for it yawned open at a touch, and thd 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 evdn any par ticular 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 she meant deliberately to let that opulent roll slide to the dust at her feet. Then with a brie/ grimace of distaste she righted her hand again, thrust the bag deep into the coat pocket and turnejdi a little blindly, back to the car. The girl looked very small be side the big car, very 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 was all set to stay .... If there is any luck in such a miserable snarl as this.” She slipdd quickly into her seat again, and the engine’s heavy purr cut abruptly into the stillness. The roadster swung smoothly out of the shadowed drive and down toward the highway. The fog I had thickened perceptibly and the road was dark, but she drove with out lights. Time enough to switch j those on. There must be no one who could remember, later, a dis tant glimpse of flaring lights. On thq last turn she had a good view of the main road in both di rections. No dazzle of oncoming lights showed either way, blurring I through the fog. She swept out 'into the highway, and her own came on. | Ihere was no placid strips or beach here; only rough ground and | dark rocky headland, now fairly j close, now farther away, cropping sheer. About an eighth of a mile beyond there should be a pjace iwhere it jutted boldly into the sea I There it was. A queer little tingle went skipping over her as she caught sight of it, vaguely out lined. How much distance would she need? Ten—no, twenty feet before striking the incline. It would be too dangerous beyonc that. She brought the car slowl) to a standstill. Shut off the engine For a moment she sat listening every nerve alert. There was not aa sound except for the heavy mur mur of the sea below. Ever though fog might muffle distant sounds, it wasn’t dense enough yet to matter. She started the engini again. 'Her heart was beating fast as she stepped down. The roadstei was pointing at a strange angle. Ii looked so sleek and beautiful, anc she let a hand rest on it softly This was a shabby trick to play or a good friend, but it had to b< done. She would miss it, too. There was no time to be wasted She stepped up and leanejU in, anc her hands moved swiftly and com petently. She gave a last tug anc a hasty glance toward the nakec ledge beyond. The car lurched and started, anc left the smooth road with a pro testing heavd. It was gathering speed, bumping over the unever ground. She jumped, staggerec for a few steps and fell. Huddled thdre on hands anc knees, panting but unhurt, she sa-w the big car strike the slope and gi hurtling down. Lurching, witl lights flaring toward the empty sea On thd brink it seemed almost tc rear back, hung for a sptit, seconc and flashed down. She saw ii turning, and pressed her hands tc her ears against the grinding crash of its fall. The silence that followed was blank and empty. She pulled her hands down shamefully and found the palms moist. "That3!s done.” she muttered shakily, and got to hdr fet. Her face was a white patch against the darkness. She knew that she must hurry away, before some belatejd motorist came by and saw her. A girl in a red beret had ceased to eftist, and her flitting ghost must not be seen. How queer it sdemed .... there |wasn’t any such girl any more. ■* * * A dusty train jolted steadily through 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, crawl ling long miles out of the beaten track of the big transcontinental, and Numbefr 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 hadn’t seen a house for miles. The scattered half dozen of her fellow passengers, looked) lat her with undeniable frequency, partly because she was the pleasantest thing there was to look at in their .whole journey, and partly from a hejalthy curiosity. Strangers, and [particularly strangers as pretty as J that, did not often travel on Num ,ber Twelve. Ihe gin telt that triendly scru tiny. She had bden restless under any interested glance for days, and it was not merely interest in the marsh waste beyond the window whiph kept her face so steadily turned that ay. She wondered, with a prickle of uneasiness, what newspaper people saw out here. Newspapers! She turned a lit tle further toward the window, remembering a terrifying, heart squi^zing day when she had last heard them cried on the streets oi a big city. What a morning that had been, The chqrful Saturday crowd thronging the downtown streets, jamming good-naturedly at the crossings; newsboys shouting theit wares; people buying thQm, talking about something that had just happened. Herself among them, feeling curiously unreal as she handed over her pennies, and rather small and quaking as she looked : at a front page splashed with headlines and pictures. Her pic ture. Feeling all chilly and gone inside, evefn though the face on : the front page was so different [from that of the girl on the street, | with her hair pulleid forward in [loose, dark waves under a low I brimmed hat. Putting nervous i finger tips up to the framing hair, to make sure that it completely : hid the uncomfortably strips of 1 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 thene. Thanking her stars—her one remaining star—that she had learned how to do such things Hurrying at last to a railroad sta tion, to get as far away as she could before another day camel. In the nearly empty station, with an hour’s wait for her train, she had sat ini a secluded corner and r<ad the paper from the first page to the last. \ It had been rather ghastly. All those pictures of a girl who was suposed to be dead and mustn’t ever come back to life again; insets of other people whose lives had touched hers; a snapshot taken from a boat, showing curling waves against th4 cliff’s dark background, black, ragged rocks thrusting out of the water, and sprawled helplessly on one of them the twisteiH, shattered wreckage' of a car. | It was news.1 There had been several columns about it. Reports, i conjectures, interviews. A motor cycle policeman had testified to meeting a foung lady in that same roadster and warning h4r about the !thickening fog. No, there had ibeen nothing in th young lady’s | manner to indicate any suicidal intent. I One) thing had puzzled her bad ly. There had been all this about jone roadster found wrecked at the jbasd. of a cliff, but not one line in ;the whole story about the thing she had feared most. How could | hat be suppressed? I me man across tne aisie was jsaying something to another mar [several seats back. Everybody jhere seemed to kriow evrybody else Perhaps it would have bjbn better after all, to have buried herself ir a big city. One can be lost sc quickly in th$ shifting crowds But there would be always the ting ling expectancy of seeing someone she know some day, or someone whe knew her. In shop or office, ir restaurant, or on a crowded street She wasn’t going to be actually in any town. It was some mile: out of this towri of Marston whatever that was like, at the enc of a long private road, the agam had admitted. She had named ii already. Trail’s End. She likec the sound of that Remotenes: Safety. Home. And work ol course. Marston Station bak,dd in the afternoon sunshine. Northeast anc [southwest the long line of rail: [winked and flashed to a disappear ing glimmer. Southward, beyonc the limits of the little town, dun | colored desert sand stretched or and on, simmering wih hept anc dotted sparsely with the low, grey ed brush of the waterless lands. Tc the) north and northwest lay : similar stretch, cut off obliquely by an abrupt line of hills. ! (CONTINUED NEXT WEEK) j -— | Many motorists who disobey th< "Stop”* signs, will obey them wher they say "Stop and eat.” Traveling Around America "■ I ClI—™* ■—I ■■■ I —a———■ AN UPHEAVAL IN CHILE * X Pecbe Nalurtlle Rachel Blanch* ENVIED I Complexion Inimitable Djer~Kiss Face Powder lends to any skin per fection that withstands the closest test. Finer—softer—absolutely pure—it permits a thinner ' powder film which lasts for : hours. Delicately scented with the bewitching Djer-Kiss fra - grance. { ' FACE POWDER Genuine Dier-Kiss Parfum. in a dainty Vanette. Purse Size . ZO* c^he(^fcinvUu iojCTQR OfrJOHN JOSEPH GAINES, M-D-STF I BITES OF DOGS I always view the pet dog as an extra hazard in the household. The animal is always harmless if you keep far enough away from him. Our children are entitled to our most watchful care. One baby’s life is worth—but you know what is on my mind. S'lippose tl^a’ patfent has 'been snapped by angry poodle. No body knows anything worth de pending on. Even the doctor can not tell if. hydrophobia germs are in the dog’s makefap. It takes from two weeks to a hundred days for hydrophobia to develop in the pa tient. The ortly real safety is in giving thd victim Pasteur treat ment, and losing no time about it. Also, confine that dog for the hundred days, if possible, tio see it develop the dresad symptoms. Dcn’,t kill the dog as soon as he bites; you destroy some very va luable evidence as to his condition Pen him up sarely and watcn mm. But—if the offender be killed early, its head should bd sent at once to a testing laboratory for examination. Your doctor will direct you in the proper procedure. The Pastdur treatment is so pre pared now, that any capable physician may administer it. If he cannot, then seek somebody whc can, for no chances should be takan once hydrophobia is contracted a cure has never begn known, sc far as I know. I may be writing nothing new iBut, only last week an old citizer came into my office and askdd me jif I knew where she could sell a jVery valuable "mad-stone!’’ People are, it seems, still believing in that old bit witchery of our forefathers Mad-stones hav4 long ago beer ^proven without effect in prevent ing or curing hydrophobia. Yot jwill not be mis-led by any suet I thing. Births Control Jobs In Germany Berlin—Germany’s Propaganda Ministry, has figured out the real cause of unemployment here—it’s the 15,000,000 children the Reich’s women didn’t have the past 15 years. '\ou can work it out by figures,” writes a Ministry official, Dr. Her mann Thomalla, in the Nazi Wel fare organ. — The newly wedded couples play the honeymoon march with enthu siasm, but how about the month to ithe work bench and kitchen stove? Mules are said to be coming back, and if you get too ne'ar their !heels, you will probably realize that j something is. Black-Draught Brings Refreshing Relief of Constipation Troubles Constipation produces many dis agreeable sensations, several of which are mentioned by Mr. T. EL Stlth, of Boonville, Ind., who writes: “I have used Thedford’a Black-Draught many years when needed for biliousness and other minor His when a laxative was needed. I have a tight feeling in my chest when I get bilious. I get dizzy and feel very tired, Just don’t feel like doing my work. After taking Black-Draught, I feel much better. This is why I continue to use it when needed.” . . . Thed ford’s Black-Draught is a good, purely vegetable laxative, obtain able for 25 a package. ! Shoes rebuilt the better way. i All kinds of harness, trunk and I suitcase repairing. I FAYSSOUX’S PLACE Phone 433 120 E. Innes St. j __■ STAR LAUNDRY "The Good One’’ Launderers and Dry Cleaners Phone 24 114 West Bank St. ONE DAY SERVICE I--— I-— I-— RADIATOR REPAIRING Let us inspect your radiator for spring driv ing. We flush, clean and recore all makes of ra d ia tors. We l sell or trade new [ M and second hand. We are tne oldest and most reliable See us. EAST SPENCER MOTOR CO. E. Spencer, N. C. Phone 1198-J DR. N. C. LITTLE Optometrist Eyes examined and glasses fitted Telephone 1571 -"W. 10754 S. Main Street Next to Ketchie Barber Shop. SIGMON-CLARK COMPANY REAL ESTATE - RENTALS - LOANS - INSURANCE 102 North Main Street Salisbury, N. C. Phone 256 __>* When the worries, noise, confusion, high-tension work, or hectic pleasures of your# waking hour* “get oh your nerves," here is a simple time-tested preparation that will bring a feeling of calm and relaxation and allow you to get a good night’s sleep. Dr. Miles Nervine quiets your nerves. It is not habit-forming and does not depress the heart. Why take chances with dangerous habit-forming drugs? Why use narcotics that make you dull and de pressed? Millions have found relief, relaxation, sleep, by using Dr. Miles Nervine. Although first used more than fifty years ago, Dr. Miles Nervine is as up to date as today’s newspaper. Nothing better for tne Home treatment of overtaxed nerves has ever been discovered. Your druggist sells Dr. Miles Nerv ine. We guarantee relief, or your money back, with the first bottle or package. ^Jervine Liquid and Effervescent Tablets \ Relief! Fsr Narrousnasa Slaapiassaas* Irritability Raatlaaanaaa Nacrous Maadacha Nacrous Indlgaatioa THIS spectacular upheaval Is the result of blasting in Chile’s nit rate fields. They are located in the desert region in the northern part of the Republic and store the world’s only supply of naturally produced nitrate of soda or “salitre” which is the country’s chief source of wealth. There are five major districts: the Tarapaca, Tocopilla, Antofagasta, Aguas Blancas, and Taltal fields. The nitrate oficinas are always of interest to visitors and are easily reached from the various nitrate ports visited each week by ships from New York and California. The largest of the oficinas have the ap pearance of small towns, arranged around * barren plaza cut by deep trenches and upflung in fantastic ridges by the work of blast and 1 shovel. They provide houses for hu lreds of miners or particulars, large factory buildings, and offices for technical and engineering staffs. The blasting which releases and breaks up the caliche, or ore, the giant crushers at work, the huge “leaching” vats in which the salitre is transferred from the caliche to the “mother liquor,” the final crys tallization of the salitre extracted from the mother liquor—are fasci nating sights which can be seen no* where else in the world. 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 ljummed softly on. The wind that rushed by her fac^ 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 riondescript car rattled past its driver sending a curious glance at the smart road ster with the pretty girl at thd wheel, alone. The air on her cheek was notice ably wet, bringing its own message. A thin fog was creeping in from the se*. Presently it would be thicker, a fldpcy white blankjet. She saw its woolly whiteness clos ing silently around a dark be*ch bungalow, miles back of her. shrouding it, hiding it, somother ing sight and sound.
Carolina Watchman (Salisbury, N.C.)
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June 29, 1934, edition 1
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