Newspapers / The Transylvania Times (Brevard, … / Jan. 13, 1938, edition 1 / Page 2
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Under Pressure By George Agnew Chamberlain _ — —---— ~ SYNOPSIS Joyce Sevell. on the eve at her twentieth birthday, rebels at her lot. dependent on her detested stepmother. Irma, and full of tragic memories cf her mother's murder twelve years before end her father's death si* months ago. Irma calls In Helm Black ddder. an admirer, to help her persuade Joyce to marry rich, young Michael Kirk patrick. Mike, n»nt up to Joyce by trma and Blackadder. demanda a showdown on his proposal and Is rejected. Joyce real ties that La Barranca, a Mexican hacienda which her father had owned, legally be tonga to her. Later, she receive! a letter enclosing a warrant on .he United Stales Treasury for $11,000 compensation for her mother's murder at La Enrranca She con fers with Mr. Bradley, a banker and only remaining friend ot her talhcr's. She con fides that she wants to make a secret Journev to Mexico. Bradley airanges all details for her. She departs by plane un detected. Oirk Van Suttart. second secre. tary of the American embassy Ip Mexico City, gives Joyce a chilly reception and she loses her temper. She (inns u Mexican woman lawyer. Mcrgnrlda Fonseca, who takes her to General Onella. right-hand roan to the Mexican minister of war. Margarlda reminds Oi.ella that the usurper of La Bar ranca la hi i dangerous enemy. Central Do rndo. The two make plant to rend Joyce with a few picked men under Pancho Buena ventura te drive Dorado out. Allan Arnaldo, a young man who runs El Tenebi'oso, a night club, knows Doradn'a present where abouts. so they take Jcyce there that night, where she notices Dirk. General Dorado arrives an t In the course of audden gun play, the Ights go out and Joyce la left alone. Adan Arnaldo v/htsks het out and takes her home. The following morning Joyce drives off lo Toiucs with Pancho. Back In H.lslnboro, Joyce's disappearance has been discovered. Blackadder upbraid! Irma, but succumbs to her helpless charm and plans to marry her. Blackadder gets the secretary of state to wire the embassy at Mexico City to locate Joyce. Dirk la delegated tor the search Dirk, getting no Information from the lying Onella. goci to XI Tenebrrso and Interviews Arnaldo. Ar naldo bldi; Dirk follow Mm. Meanwhile Joyce and Pancho reach La Barranca. Pancho and Eusebio, one of his band, leave her and at dawn climb the wall. Suddenly shots ring out. CHAPTER VI—Continued —7— She sprang through the first zag uan and ran across the second court. She reached the second zag uan, entered the inner patio and plunged through odorous blooms to trip and all but fall over a dead body. Here also everything was si lent—not the stillness of peace, the silence of terror and death. Every door on the lower floor was tightly sealed. She dashed up one branch of the double stairway which led to the balcony above. Fury still pos sessed her to the exclusion of all fear. Murder was being done on her account—murder before her very eyes. Again shots pierced the silence, but they were rhythmic, punctuat ed. They came from the formal dining room. She dashed along the balcony and entered upon a scene so astonishing it brought her to an instantaneous halt. Her eyes were riveted on a figure as hideous as a gargoyle which stood as if cruci fied against the wall beneath one of the sconces. She recognized the visage of Gen eral Dorado, now twitching with ter ror as the rhythmic shots shattered one by one the lusters dangling over her head. Two other men were in the room, Eusebio and Pancho, both seated, The jumpers were gone, disclosing what had caused the bulges—bandoliers still half full of cartridges. Eusebio was rolling a cigarette, Pancho was doing the shooting and Dorado, wandering why he was being spared, had his glit tering eyes fixed on his tormentor. “Pancho!” cut in Joyce’s voice between two shots. “You lied. You promised Gen—” In one movement Pancho sprang up, snatched off his big sombrero and swung it backward at a ven ture, striking her across the mouth. For an instant Dorado stared at her w.th unbelieving yet consuming eyes, then his paralysis passed and he m8de a leap for the nearest door. With a double bloodcurdling yell Eu sebio and Pancho were after him. Half knocked off balance by the rush of their passage Joyce was yet able to reach the balcony in time to watch the pursuit through the patio, across the visible section of the great court, through the zaguan at its far side and out by one of the gates into the limitless freedom of the prairie. Joyce turned, went out and de scended to the patio with a firm step. She must do something, sum mon aid. But first she wished to orient herself, revisit the spots she knew best. She glanced toward her one time playroom and saw that the huge key was on the outside of the lock. A moment later she had turned it and thrown open the door. She stood transfixed. It had be come a stable—a pig-pen. Two horses turned their heads and stared at her as though startled and three fattening hogs, penned in one comer, grunted low as if only mum bling. She closed the door hurried ly ard stepped back against a bush. The bush moved and she thought it was because she had touched it but the next instant her ankle was seized in an unbreakable grip. She looked down and saw a brown hand, a brawn hairy arm. She opened her mouth and screamed but no sound issued from her throat. She dragged back with all her might. Another hand came forward and then appeared the q| a man. She tugged more furiously than ever. The oth er hand added its grip to the first. Now she could see his waist, the whole body, his shattered and bleed ing thigh. He looked up and in stantly she knew he was asking for no aid. The single thought in his eyes was as clear as If he had shout ed it. He wished to pull her down, transfer his grip from her ankle to her throat and kill her before he died—all this for ml General Do rado. Then her voice came back— not her familiar grown-up voice but the voice of memory uttering a cry of the post. ■'Luz I Luz! Luz!" CHAPTER VII Dirk followed Arraldo around the crowded dancing floor, retrieved his overcoat ar.d hat and a moment lat er the two men sprang into the same car that had rescued Joyce from the same spot four nights be fore. Adan barked a direction and the tone of his voice was sufficient to send the chauffeur tearing along through one street after another, skidding around corners and ignor ing lights until he drew up with a squeal of brakes at an apartment house shrouded in darkness. On the “He’s Dead,” Said Several of the Crowd in Unison. lighted a match to examine me name card, then rang the bell with one hand and knocked with the oth er. "Who is it?” asked a deep voice presently. “What do you want?” "It’s I, Margarida—Adan Arnal do. Open the door. Something ter rible has happened." The latch clicked and the door swung back, revealing Margarida Fonseca. “What do you want?” asked Mar garida. "Information.” "Take your hand off the gun. Do you think I’m an idiot?” "Oh, I wouldn’t shoot; I’d just tap over and around your brains— harder and harder.” "If I weren’t amused I’d scream for help.” “You’d get it all right; the po lice are downstairs.” "What police?" “Why do you suppose I’m running around with a gringo secretary of embassy?” countered Arnaldo. "Don’t you know a friend when you see one? Answer my questions and tell the truth or you’ll go to jail in a nightgown.” r or wnair ‘‘Abduction of a minor.” “What is it you wish to know?” “Where is the girl?” “She’s gone to La Barranca." “What for?” "La Barranca is undoubtedly her property; I had to admit that much. Since I explained why the courts can do nothing she has gone there to plead with General Dorado to hand it back to her.” “I don’t believe it I” said Arnaldo. “She told me she never wanted to see Pepe’s horror of a face again.” Margarida smiled pityingly. “I’m the one who’s telling the truth. The girl is at La Barranca. I swear it by every hair on the head of my dead mother.” “Where is La Barranca?” Dirk asked. *‘I mean how to you get there—by what road?” “The road to Toluca,” said Ar naldo out of • half daze. “The haci enda is southwest of Toluca. Once you’ve passed the city all you have to say is La Barranca to the first man you meet and he will point out the trail." “How do you know so much about La Barranca, Adan?” asked Mar garida curiously. “For my sins I went to one of Pepe’s shooting parties,” said Ar naldo, still in a half daze. Dirk rose. "I'm leaving for To luca in half an hour,” he stated. “What about it, Arnaldo? Any chance of your coming with me?" “No,” said Arnaldo, snapping out of his daze. He turned to Van Sut tart. “Sit down.” Dirk obeyed. “What do you suppose I’m thinking about? Do you know Dorado? No. Well, I do. We’re too late—too late by hours. To make the trip would be a mere sentimental gesture.” “Just the same I’m going,” said Dirk. “To take a fail out of a wind mill,” asserted Arnaldo impatiently. “Have you any idea what a Mexi can hacienda is like?” “No." "It’s a fortress. Don’t be a fool. If you insist on making a journey to bring back the remains wait un til you can take a hearse and a troop of cavalry along with a bat tery of seventy-fives to help you. If your ambassador can’t get them, come to me and I’ll see what I can do." “No," said Dirk. “You don’t un derstand. He gave me u job and if I tried passing the buck back to him he’d be through with me for keeps and I wouldn’t blame him. Do you mind dropping me at my place?" Joyce stared down in horror at the wreck of a man at her feet. Reason told her since ha was mor tally wounded she must be stronger than he, yet she was not—all her strength had turned to water. From the waist up he was terribly alive. His right hand was still clamped on her ankle so tightly that circulation had almost ceased and with his left he had managed to seize her skirt. Rather than have it dragged off hor she sank to one knee, straining her head back from the sight of his face. “Luz!” she cried in a last despair ing wail. A bar clattered on the far side of the patio, a door opened and the fig ure of a woman stepped forth. She was ageless as are all peons once the bloom of youth has passed, but strong with the toughness of raw hide. Her leathery face would have been expressionless had it not been for the brilliance of cavernous black eyes. The instant they beheld Joyce their expression underwent a star tling transformation. It did not oc cur to her she was staring at the babe she had nursed at her breast; what she thought she saw was that babe’s mother to the very life. She dashed to the rescue, scream ing as she went: "Senor Maximili ano! Julio! Leonardo! Plutarco! Ri quieta! Nataniel!" As the last cry for help left her lips she sprang through the air to pounce like a cat, claws out, on Joyce’s assailant. Heedless of the shattered hip which was uppermost she dug knowingly under his other thigh and presently tugged into view a sheath knife with a glittering blade a foot long. Gripping the han dle with both hands she raised it on high. The man promptly gave up. He released his hold on Joyce, rolled over and with a sigh of relief exposed his breast to descending death. But he counted without Joyce. She seized Luz’s wrists and wrenched them upward. “No, Luz, no!” At Luz’s call doors had opened on every side and people were com ing on the run. As the wondering group gathered Luz looked up, her face distorted in bewilderment. An instant later she dropped the knife, threw herself on her knees, bowed her head to the ground and began kissing Joyce’s feet with a fervor interrupted only by elucidating wails. “Joycita! Cita! Ciquita! My ba by! At my breast—my own breast!” She looked up at the crowd through streaming eyes. "Our baby has come back to us!” Joyce lifted her up and kissed her tear-wet cheeks “Luzl Oh, Luzl But we can’t talk now; we must get a doctor.” "What for?” asked Lux. '"This poor men—we must try to save him.” "He's dead,” said several of the crowd in unison. “Wait!” called a sonorous voice. "Wait for me.” Joyce looked around and memory, not quite sure of itself, stirred in her breast. An imposing figure was approaching along the gallery of the patio with carefully measured steps accompanied by the regular thump of a rubber-tipped staff. "W’ho is he?” asked Joyce hur riedly. “You have forgotten Don Jorge, Senor Maximiliano?” asked Lux. “Because he became blind,” she explained, "they left him life.” "Of course," said Joyce, remem bering. "Maxie, the superintendent. But blind!” Luz stepped forward, caught Senor Maximiliano’s free hand and kissed it with respect. She explained the baby of long ago had returned. He let. fall his 6taff, reached out and laid hands on Joyce’s shoulders. "Maxie," she breathed, “I used to call you Maxie.” He wrapped his aims around her and held her close for a long mo ment of silence. “The babe is be come a woman,” he rumbled, “but she will always be a child to me. Welcome back to your home and to our hearts. Leonardo!” “S e n o r," answered Leonarda stepping forward. "Summon the people; let them greet their mistress." There wa3 no need for Leonardo to issue a call since men, women, and children were already swarm ing into the precincts of the inner patio. They came from the outer court, the tienda and the scattered houses beyond the gates. Silently, their black eyes staring in wonder, they passed before Joyce, each pausing with bent knee to kiss her hand. A toddling infant closed the long procession, 500 strong. Joyce snatched up the baby and faced the throng. /is mis cnnu is one 01 yuu, ma called, “so am I. Boundaries di vide peoples; they can’t divide the human family. Love me and I will serve you; serve me with faith in your hearts and I will love you.” She turned to Senor Maximillano and laid her hand on his arm. "Wai that all right, Maxie?” "Your father might have spoken the words,” said Don Jorge, "and I know no greater praise. But I am confused. Let u« go inside-* you and Luz and I—and talk.” Don Jorge Maximiliano de la Si erra was a gentleman, a scion of a collateral branch of the family which had originally owned La Bar ranca. Seated in the little room which had been her mother’s boudoir, with Luz standing before them, Joyce told Don Jorge of her father’s death and the dreary years culminating with the arrival of the warrant for $10,000. Then, interrupted by sev eral sharp questions, she gave him the exact facts as to what had hap pened in the week since she had re> turned to Mexico. “Let’s say farewell to the past,* said Don Jorge, “and face the pres ent. What you have told me about Onelia troubles me profoundly. Why did he accede to your request? Why did his men kill Dorado and thee abandon you?” “They didn’t,” said Joyce quickly. “What!” cried Don Jorga, straightening in his chair. “Are you sure, my child?” “Quite sure, Maxie. Didn’t I tell you Onelia told Pancho Buenaven tura that Dorado mustn’t be killed at any price? They chased him away—I saw them with my owa eyes—but they didn’t kill him.” (TO BE CONTINUED) “Norway Pine” Misnomer; Forest Service Orders It Shall Be Known as “Red Pine” The Federal Forest service has decreed that hereafter the Norway pine, so common to the Lake states, shall be known as, and called, the red pine. Instructions to this effect have been sent to all National for est custodians. The name “Norway" has been in common usage with us although it is a misnomer. According to authori ties the name is wholly out of place, for the tree is not a foreigner but a native of North America. It is re lated that the name Norway pine was given the tree by a Spanish captain who first found it here. Its close resemblance to pines he had seen in Norway caused him to sup pose it identical with such as he had seen growing there, which undoubt edly were Scottish pines. Simon B. Elliott, in his work on important timber trees of the United States,' said: “Its technical name also is inappropriate. Pinus resi nosa, which it is called, means resin pine, and why the red pine should be given that name when its wood contains less resin than any other hard timber pine is very strange." The name red pine is appropriate for this tree and is quite generally recognized throughout its eastern range. The bark and wood are red dish, the winter buds red-brown, the staminate flowers scarlet or reddish purple and the scales of the pistil* late flowers scarlet. The red pine, next to the white pine, used to be the most Important timber tree of the lake states. To day it is planted as extensively as white and jack over state and fed eral reservations. It has one ad vantage over white for reforestation purposes—it will take root and thrive in soils too sterile and light for white pine, and for this reason is found in extensive stands oa the sandy plains of the North. Name of Labrador A venturesome Portuguese named Labrador discovered and gave hit name to the eastern coast at Cm « da. A PRETTY girl is like a melody and her frock is the swing in it that makes you remember her— and never lets you forget. Sew Your-Own puts that “remember me-’ ingredient into all frocks, from its simple all-occasion mod els to its more exclusive fashion firsts. You, Milady, have an ex ceptional opportunity today to choose an engaging frock from this taking trio. Just send for your pattern and Sew-Your-Own will do the rest—see you through every step to a happy, successful finish, or, in other words, to a thrilling frock fortified with much “Remember me.’’ Five Shipshape Pieces. Start your day in an attractive morning frock if you would leave a bright all-day impression on the family. Sew-Your-Own suggests the new, young-looking dress at the left for creating a really last ing impression. It will impress you, too, for the five pieces fit together so effortlessly and pro duce such shipshape style that you'll be not only pleased but thrilled. Gingham, percale, or seersucker is the material sug gested for this popular frock. Exclusive Looking. A beautifully styled frock that will lend a festive feeling and a note of glamour to every occasion is the smart new piece, above center. It is modern of line, gra cious of detail, and flattering be yond belief. The new tucked skirt locks important, yes, even exclu sive, but happily for you, Milady, it’s as easy to sew as any you’ve done. Note the little button trim and youthful collar and'cuffs to add that telling touch of good taste. Make a copy for now in satin or silk crepe. Come-Cet-Me Look. Winter is here, but Spring Is packaged up for an early deliv ery, which would behoove the fas tidious young woman to now turn her gentle thoughts to the prob lem of what-to-wear. The slim waisted model, above right, should set one straight, both in matters of thoughts and actions, for it has that come-and-get-ms look that’s so typical of the mod ern Sew-Your-Own, The “act” of sewing is most simplified in this little number, as the seven pieces and the cut-away diagram clearly illustrate. Make this frock in du plicate for your complete chic and I resistance to clothes worries. The Patterns. Pattern 1431 is designed for sizes 36 to 52. Size 38 requires 4% yards of 35-inch material. The collar in contrast requires % cf a yard. Pattern 1436 is designed for sizes 12 to 20 (30 to 38 bust). Size 14 requires 3 Vi yards of 39-inch material, plus % yard contrasting. With long sleeves 3% yards are required. Pattern 1435 is designed for sizes 12 to 20 (30 to 40 bust). Size 14 requires 4Vi yards of 39-inch material, plus % yard contrasting. Send your order to The Sewing Circle Pattern Dept., Room 1020, 211 W. 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The Transylvania Times (Brevard, N.C.)
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Jan. 13, 1938, edition 1
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