Newspapers / Polk County News and … / June 11, 1915, edition 1 / Page 6
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&r GEORGE t T T LSTFAT10N5 coPY??fr. AffD canPAflY SYNOPSIS. i 10 In the New York home of James Brood; Jhis son, Frederic, receives a wlreleaai from him. Frederic tells Lydia Des4 jnond, his fiancee, that the message anj iiounces his father's marriage, and orders Mrs. Desmond, the housekeeper and an Immediate home-coming. Brood and tlils bride arrive. She wins Frederic's uk tag at first meeting. Brood shows dislike and veiled hostility to his son. Lydia and Urs. Brood met in the Jade-room, wherel ,vdla works as Brood's secretary. MrsJ iBrood is startled by the appearance of, Hanjab, Brood's Hindu servant She) makes changes In the household and gain ier husband's consent to send Mrs. Des-( mond and Lydia away. She fascinates Frederic. She begins to fear Ran jab in disaDoear- ances, and Frederic, remembering his father's East Indian stories and firm be4 Jiel in magie. feara unknown evil. Ran-f jab performs feats of magic for Dawes and Rlggs. Frederic's father, jealous, un-t justly orders his son from the dinner table as drunk; Brood tells the story of Ran ijab's life to his guests. "He killed a wom- an" who was unfaithful to him. Yvonne plays with Frederic's infatuation for her.! Her husband warns her that the thing must not go on: She tells him that he totlll loves his dead wife, whom he drove from . his home, through her, Yvonne. iTvonne plays with Brood. Frederic and Lydia as with figures on a chess board.! JJrood. madly jealous, tells Lydla that (Frederic is not his son, and that he has brought him up to kill his happiness at the proper time with this knowledge. CFrederic takes Lydla home through a heavy storm and spends the night at her mother's house. His wavering allegiance to her is strengthened by a day spent with her. Yvonne, over the phone rouses DPrederic's infatuation for her again. Lydla roes to beg Brood not to tell Frederic of his unhappy parentage, but Is turned from fcer purpose. Frederic, at dinner with Dawes and Riggs, is seized with an im pulse of filial duty, and under a. queer Im pression that he is influenced by Ranjab's will, hunts up his father, who gives him the cut direct. CHAPTER XV. A Mother Intervenes. Long past midnight the telephone in the Desmond apartment rang sharp ly, insistently. Lydia, who had Just fallen asleep, awoke with a start and at bolt upright in her bed. A clammy iciDuitiuuu uru&e oui an over ner hody. She knew there had been a catastrophe. She sat there chattering until she heard her mother's door open and Chen the click of the receiver as it was lifted from the hook. Then she put her fingers to her ears and closed , her he was sure of it The blow had fallen. The only thought that seared her brain was that she had failed him. failed him miserably In the crisis. Oh, If she could only reclaim that lost hour of indecision and cowardice! The light in the hallway suddenly smote her in the face and she realized for the first time thit her eyes were tightly closed as if to shut out some abhorrent sight. "Lydia!" Her mother was standing fax the open door "Oh, you' are awake?" Mrs. Desmond stared in amazement at-the girl's figure. j "What is it, mother? Tell me what las happened? Is he " "He wants to speak, to you. He is on the wire. I I His voice sounds very queer " The girl sprang out of bed and hur ried to the telephone. y "Don't go away, mother stay here," he cried as she sped past the white clad figure in the doorway. Mrs. Des mond flattened herself against the wall and remained there as -motionless as a statue, her somber gaze fixed on her daughter's face. "Yes, Frederic it is I Lydia. What is it, dear?" Her voice was high and thin. His voice came jerking over the wire, sharp and querulous. She closed ber eyes in anticipation of the blow, her body rigid. "I'm sorry to disturb you," he was saying, "but I just had to call you up." The words were disjointed, as AM t M 1 m ... ne iorcea mem rrom nis lips one hy one in a supreme effort at coher ency.; "Yes, yes it's all right I don't mind. You did right What is it?" "I want you to release me from my promise." ' "You mean the promise but, Fred dy, I can't release you YI love you. I will be your wife, no matter what has happened, no matter " "Oh, Lord, Lyddy it isn't that! It's , the other the promise to say nothing to. my father " .. . . : "O oh ! " she sighed weakly, a vast wave of relief almost suffocating her. "He has made it impossible for me to go on without" "Where are you, Frederic?" she cried, in sudden alarm. "Oh, I'm all right I shan't go home, you may be sure of that. Tomorrow will be time enough." ' '" "Where are ,you? 1 must know. How can I reach you by telephone" ''Don't be frightened, dear. It's got to be. that's all. It might as well be ended now as later on. The last straw was laid on tonight Now, don't ask questions. I'll see you in the morning. Good-night, sweetheart. I've-r-I've told you that I can't sick to my promise. You'll understa - wu.uu I, UU til I'd told you and heard your dear voice. Forgive me for calling you up. Tell your mother I'm sorry. Good night!" . . . . ''Freddy, listen to me ! " -You must wait until I Oh!" He had hung up the receiver. She heard the whir of toe open wire. mm DARK SCUTCHEON RAY MALTEIO There was little comfort for her in the hope held out by her mother as they sat far into the night and dis cussed the possibilities of, the day so near at hand. She could see-nothing but disaster, and she could think of nothing but her own lamentable weak ness in shrinking from the encounter that might have made the present situ ation . impossible. She tried to make light of .the situation, however, prophe sying a calmer attitude for Frederic after he had slept over his grievance, which, after all, she argued, was doubt less exaggerated. She promised to go with Lydia to see James Brood in the morning, and toplead with him to be merciful to the boy she was to marry, no matter what transpired. The girl at first insisted on going over to see him that night, notwithstanding the hour, and was dissuaded only after the most earnest opposition. It was four o'clock before they went back to bed and long after five before either closed her eyes. Mrs. Desmond, utterly exhausted, was the first to awake. She glanced at the little clock on her dressing-table and gave a great start of consterna tion. It was long past nine o'clock. While she was dressing, the little maid servant brought In her coffee and toast and received instructions not to awak en. Miss Lydia but to let her have her sleep out A few minutes later she left the apartment and walked briskly arohnd the corner to Brood's home. Fearing that she might be too late, she walked so rapidly that she was quite out of breath when she entered the house. Mr. Rlggs and Mr. Dawes were putting on their coats in the hall preparatory to their short morning constitutional. They greeted her effu sively, and with one accord proceeded to divest themselves of the coats, an nouncing in one voice their intention to remain for a good, old-fashioned chat "It's dear of you," she said, hur riedly, "but I must see Mr. Brood at once. Why not come over to my apartment this afternoon for a cup of tea and " Mrs. Brood's voice interrupted her. "What do you want, Mrs. Desmond?" came from the landing above. The visitor looked up with a start, not so much of surprise as uneasiness. There was something sharp, unfriendly in the low, level tones. Yvonne, fully dressed a most un usual circumstance at that hour of the day was leaning over the banister rait "I came to see Mr. Brood on a very important " "Have you been sent over here by someone else?" demanded Mrs. Brood. "I have not seen Frederic," fell from her Hps before she thought T dare say you haven't," said the other with ominous clearness. "He has been here since seven this morn ing, waiting for a chance to speak to his father in private." She was descending the stairs slow ly, almost lazily, as she uttered the remark. "They are together now?" gasped Mrs. Desmond. "Will you come into the library? Good morning, gentlemen. I trust you may enjoy your long walk." Mrs. Desmond followed her Into the library. Yvonne closed the door al most in the face of Mr. Riggs, who had opened his mouth to accept the Invitation to tea, but who said he'd "be d d" instead, so narrow was his escape from having his nose banged. He emphasized the declaration by shaking his fist at the door. The two women faced each other. For the first time since she had know Yvonne Brood Mrs. Desmond observed a high touch of color in her cheeks. Her beautiful eyes were alive with an excitement she could not conceal. Nei ther spoke for a moment ' "You are accountable for this, Mrs. Brood," said Lydia Desmond's mother, sternly, accusingly. She expected a storm of indignant protest Instead. Yvonne smiled slightly. "It will not hurt my husband to discover that Frederic is , a man and not a milksop," she said, but despite her coolness there was a perceptible note of anxiety in her voice. "You know, then, that they are that they will quarrel ?r "I fancy it was In Frederic's mind to do so when he came here this morning. He was still in his evening .clothes, Mrs. Desmond." "Where are they now?" I think, he has them on," said Yvonne, lightly. J Mrs. Desmond regarded her for a sment in perplexity. Then her eyes flashed dangerously. "I do not think you misunderstood me, Mrs. Brood. Where are Frederic and his father?" "1 am not accustomed to that tone of voice, Mrs. Qesmond." "I am no longer your housekeeper, said the other, succinctly, "You do not realize what this quarrel may mean. I insist on going up to them before it has gone too far." "Will you be so good, . Mrs. Des mond, as to leave this house instant ly?" cried Yvonne, angrily. -- "No, said the other quietly. "Isut- lpose i am too late to prevent trouble between those two men, but shall at least remain here to assure Frederic of my sympathy, to help him If L ean, to offer him the shelter of n4y home." A spasm of alarm "crossed JYvcmnefs face. "Do you really' believe it will come to that?" she demanded, nerv ously, p y'yz 'yti - k' Yf'- Y ."If what t fear should coin to pass, he will not stay in this hous another hour. He: will go forth froin it, curs ing James Brood with all the hatred that his soul can possess. -$nd now, Mrs. Brood, shall I " tell yoti what I think of you?",- C? yvmyy'::';Y';:y "No, It isn't at all necessary. Be sides, I've changed my mlndvl I'd like you to remain. I d.o not want to mys tify you any further, Mrs. HStesmond, but I now confess to you th-at I am losing my courage. Don't ask me to tell you why, but " I' . "I suppose it is the custom with those who play with fire. Ther shrink when it burns them." .J v ; : Mrs. Brood looked at . her steadily for a long time without speaking. The rebellious, sullen expression ied put of -her eyes. She sighed deeply, almost despairingly. "I am sorry you think 111 ofjjne, yet I cannot blame you for' considering me to be a a I'll not say it MH. Des mond, I I wish I had never ome to this house." Y "Permit me to echo your wofds." "You will never be able tdl under stand me. And, after all, whys should I care? You are nothing to m&. You are merely a good woman wio has no real object In life. You "'?' "No real object in life?" I "Precisely. Sit down. We wf ft wait here together, if you please, i I am worried. I think I rather like tp feel that you are here with me. Ypu see, the crisis has come." I "You know, of course, that heturned one wife out or this housei Mrs. Brood," said Mrs. Desmond, deliber ately. 1 Something like terror leaped into the other's eyes. The .watcher; expe rienced an Incomprehensible feeling of pity for her she who had been 'despis ing her so fiercely the instant hef ore. "He he' will not turn me out," mur mured Yvonne, and suddenly fbegan pacing the floor, her hands clinched. "I'd Like You to Remain. Stopping abruptly In front of the other woman, she exclaimed:. "He, made 4 great mistake in driving that other woman out He is not likely to repeat It, Mrs. Desmond." "Yes I think he did make a mis take," said Mrs. Desmond, calmly. "But he does not think so. He is a man of iron. He is unbending." ' ft "He is a wonderful man a great splendid man," cried Yvonne, fierqijly. It Is I Yvonne Lestrange who pro claim it to the world. I cannot hear to see him suffer. 1 H "Then why do you" vf Mrs. Brood flushed to the ros of her hair. "I do not want to appear unfair to my husband, but I declare to you, Mrs. Desmond, that Frederij is fully justified in the attitude he tias taken this morning. KIs father hu miliated him last night In a manner tnat maae iproearance impossible. That much I must say for Frederic. And permit me to add, from my sd$il, that he is vastly more sinned against than sinning." "I can readily believe that. Mjs. Brood." : , "This morning Frederic came in?to the breakfast room while we were hav ing coffee. You look surprised. Y$s, I was' having breakfast with my hus band. I knew that Frederic " woujd come. That was my reason. When! I heard him in the hall I sent the serv ants out of the dining-room. He hd spent the night with a friend. His first words on entering the room wefe these I shall never forget them : 'Laal night I thought I loved you, fathlr. but' I have come home just to tell yc-u that I hate you. I can't stay in thjs house another'day. I'm going to gt out .But I just wanted you to knoff that I thought I loved you last night, as a son should love a father. I jut wanted you tf know ' L He diil not even look at me, Mrs. Desmon I . don't believe he knewr I was there. I shall never forget the lo;!i in James Brood's face. It was as it he sawll ghost or i some horrible thing that fair cinated him. He did not utter a worcj, but stared at Frederic In that terribl, awestruck way. 'I'm going to get out said Frederic, his voice rising. 'You'v treated, me like a dor all my life an& I'm through. I shaVt even say good by to you. You don't deserve anj more consideration from me than li4 received from you: YI hope I'll never see you again. If I ever have a son Fll not treat him as you've treated your son. By . God, you don't deserve the honor of being called father. You don't deserve to have a son. I wish to God I had never been obliged to call you father. I don't know what you did to myi mother, but if you treated her as' Just then my husband found his voice. He sprang to his feet, and I've never seen such a look of rage. I thought he was going to strike Fred eric and I think I screamed Just a little scream, of course. I was so ter rified. But he only said and it was horrible the way he said it 'You fool you bastard ! ' And Frederic, laughed in his face and cried out unafraid, 'I'm glad you call me a bastard! By God, I'd rather be one than to be your son. It: would at least give me something to be proud : of a real father'" ' 'Good heaven!" fell from Mrs. Des mond's white lips. Yvonne seemed to have paused to catch her breath. Her breast heaved convulsively, the grip of her hands tightened on the arms of the chair. Suddenly vshe resumed her recital, but her voice was hoarse and tremulous. "I was terribly frightened. I thought of calling out to Jones, but I I had no voice! Ah, you have never seen two angry men Waiting to spring at each other's throats, Mrs. Desmond. My hushand suddenly regained control of himself. He was very calm. 'Come with me,' he said to Frederic 'This Is not the place to wash our filthy family linen. You say you want some thing to be proud of. Well, you shall have your wish. Come to my study.' And they went away together, neither speaking a word to -me they did not even glance in my direction. They went up the stairs. I heard the door close behind them away . up there., That was half an hour ago. I have been waiting, too waiting as you are waiting now to comfort Frederic when he comes out of that room a wreck. 'Ivirs. Desmond started up, an incred ulous look in her" eyes. "You are taking his side? You are against your husband? Oh, now I know the kind of woman you are. I know " "Peace! You do not know the kind of woman I am. You never will know. Yes, I shall take sides with Frederic." "You .do not love your husband!" A strange, unfathomable smile came into Yvonne's face and stayed there. Mrs. Desmond ; experienced the same odd feeling she had had years ago on first seeing the Sphinx. She was sud denly confronted by an unsolvable mystery. ' " "He shall not drive me out of his house, Mrs. Desmond," was her an swer to the challenge. A door slammed in the upper re gions of the house. Both women start ed to their feet "It is over," breathed Yvonne, with a tremulous sigh. "We shall see how well they were able to take care of themselves, Mrs. Brood," said Mrs. Desmond in a low voice. "We shall see yes," said the other, mechanically. Suddenly she turned on the tall, accusing figure beside her. "Go away! Go now! I command you to go. This is our affair, Mrs. Desmond. You are not needed here. You were too late, as you say. I beg of you, go!" She strode swiftly toward the door. As she was about to place her hand on the knob It was opened from the other side, and Ran jab stood before them. . "Sahib begs to be excused, Mrs. Des mond. He is Just going out" "Going out?" cried Yvonne, who had shrunk hack into the room. "Yes, sahibah. You will please ex cuse, Mrs. Desmond. He regret very much." Mrs. Desmond passed slowly through the door, which he held open for her. As she passed by the Hindu she looked full into his dark, expressive eyes, and there was a question in hers. He did not speak, but she read the answer as if it were on a printed page. Her shoulders drooped. She went , back to Lydia. CHAPTER XVI. "To My Own Sweetheart" i When James Brood and Frederic left the dining-room nearly an hour prior to the departure of THrs. Des mond, there was in the mind of each the resolution to make short work of the coming Interview. Each knew that the time 'had arrived for the parting of the ways, and neither had the least desire to prolong the suspense. Y The study door was closed. , James Brood put his hand on the knob, but, before turning it, faced the young man with an odd mixture of anger and pity in his eyes. - "Perhaps it would be better if we had nothing more to say to each oth er," he said, with an effort "I have changed my mind. I cannot say the thing to you that I " , "Has it got anything to do with Yvonne and me?" demanded Frederic ruthlessly, jumping at conclusions in his new-found arrogance. s Brood threw open the door. "Step inside," he said in a voice that should have warned the younger man, it was so prophetic of disaster. Frederic had touched the open, sore with that unhappy question. Not until this in stant had James Brood admitted to himself that there was a sore and that it had been festering all these weeks. Now it was laid bare and smarted with pain. Nothing could save Frederic after that reckless, deliberate tnrust at the very "core of the malignant growth that lay so near the surface. It had been in James Brood's'heart to spare the boy. Hot words were on Frederic! Up, TheyY were alone In his room. , He squared his shoulders. . ' "I suppose you think I am In love with her," he said defiantly. He waited a moment for the response that did not come. Brood was regarding him with eyes from which qvery spark of compassion had disappeared. "Well, it may interest you to know that I in tend to marry Lydia this very day." Brood advanced a few steps toward him. In the subdued light of the room his features were not clearly dis tinguishable. His face was gray and shadowy; only the eyes were sharply defined. They glowed like points of light, unflickering. Y "I shall be sorry for Lydia' he said levelly. ''' 1 Y "You needn't be," said Frederic hot ly. "She understands everything." Y "Have "you told her that you love her and no one else?" " "Y "Certainly!" y "Then you have lied to her." There was silence tense silence. "Do you expect me to strike you for that?" came at last from Frederic's lips, low and menacing. "You have always considered your self to be my son, haven't you?" pur sued Brood deliberately. "Can you say to me that you have behaved of late as a son should " Y "Wait! Well settle that point right now. I did lose my head. Head, I say, not heart I shan't attempt to explain I can't, for that matter. As for Yvonne well, she's as good as gold. She understands me better than I un derstand myself. She knows that even honest men lose their heads some times. I can say to you now that I would sooner have cut my own throat than"' to do more than envy you the possession of one you do not de serve. I have considered myself your son. I have no apology to make for my we'll call it infatuation. I shall only admit that it has existed and that I have despaired. As God is my witness, I have never loved any one but Lydia. I have given her pain, and the amazing part of it Is that I can't help myself. Naturally, you can't understand what it all means. You are not a young man any longer. . You cannot understand." "Good God!" burst from Brood's lips. -Then he laughed aloud-grotesquely. "Yvonne is the most wonderful thing that has ever come into my life. I adored her the instant I saw her. I have felt sometimes that I knew her a thousand years ago. I have felt that I loved her a thousand years ago." A calm seriousness now attended his speech, in direct contrast to the violent mood that had gone before. "I have thought of little else but her. I con fess it to you. But through it all there has never been an inbtant in which I did not worship Lydia Desmond. I I do not pretend to account for it It is beyond me." Brood waited patiently to the end. "Your mother before you had a some what similar auction," he said, still in the steady, repressed voice. "Per haps it is a gift a convenient gift this ability to worship without effort" "Better leave my mother out of it," said Frederic sarcastically. A look of wonder leaped to his eyes. "That's the first time you've condescended to acknowledge -that I ever had a mother." Brood's smile was deadly. "If you have anything more to say to me, you would better get it over with. Purge your soul of all the gall that embitters it I grant you that privilege. Take your innings." A spasm of pain crossed Frederic's face. "Yes, I am entitled to my in nings. I'll go back to what I said down stairs. I thought I loved and honored you last night I would have forgiven eveiything if you had granted me a friendly friendly, that's all just a friendly word. You denied" "I suppose you want me to believe that it was love for me that brought you slinking to the theater," said the other ironically. "I don't expect you to believe any thing. I was lonely. I wanted to be with you and Yvonne. Can't you un derstand how lonely I've been all my life? Can't you understand how hun gry I am for the affection that every other boy I've known has had from his parents? I've never asked you about my mother. I Used to wonder a good deal. Every other boy had a mother. I never had one. I couldn't understand. I no longer wonder. I know now that! she must have hated you with all the strength of her soul. God, how she must have hated to feel the touch of your hands upon her body! Something r tells me she left you, and if she did, I hope she afterwards found someone who but no, I won't say it Even now I haven't the heart to hurt you by say ing that" He stopped, choking up with the rush of bitter words. "Well, why don't you say something?" "I'm giving you your innings. Go on?" said Brooch, softly. "She must have loved you once or she wouldn't have married you. She must have loved f you or I wouldn't be here in this world. She" Y "Ha!" came sharply from Brood's stiff-lips. "didn't find you out until it was too late. She was lovely, I know. She was sweet and gentle and she loved happiness. I can see that in her face, in her big, wistful eyes. You " - "What's this?" demanded Brood, startled. "What are you saying?" "Oh, I've got her portrait an old photograph. For a month I've carried it here in this pocket-case, over my heart I wouldn't part with it for all the money in the world. When I look at the dear, sweet, girlish face and her eyes look back Into mine, I know that she loved me." - , Y "Her portrait?" ; said Brood, unbe lieving. -:'., "Yes and I have only to look at it to know that she "couldn't have hurt yOU SO If mncf v. u.UOi nave h WAV 'rniinrt Y ueIl tt.. uc a ntojy. w ntv dui sne didn't die for uw- K I born. Whyl uouiuauie vniage " 'Where did you graphr demanded Wnere. T. Ravi , fering fool " "I wouldn't be too hash, you." said FredPrir !ty' H I In his voice. "YyZtuS mafia Vio 6aV6Utnn,.K you about it. Sho noll say "Yvonne found gave it to you? Wh at trlck ot"tat;l this?' Rut ? , r ' 11 md? not h trait of your your moth a r Kl photograph " "No, it is my mntv.o the resemblanro d """fiu, "c "licrj and v it to me. And it mav s xK know that she advised me vH it an my uie Decause it w0nH , " tell me how lovely and sweet t l' er was the mother i hai y "I insist said Brood, with pic "No." said FredPri, ,,!Uy' 'UIUID? 1:1 arms ugntiy across his breast V didn't deserve her then and youj1 iou aoni Know what you are , ing, boy!" are! "Ah. .don't I? Well, I've got Just J tie bit of my mothpr RafQ lH u"r& r I my, heart a little faded card, that VA and you shall not rob mP ft I Last night I was sorry for you C w& mo.!, ouiueuow you have ways been unhappy over sometfel that haDDened in th noc .vYI - - - mat ti mother was responsible for a.' when I took out this photon , tiny bit of old cardboard see in, I Hiuan mai il can De carried in waistcoat nncket '"vu i iuijk it i and looked at the pure, lovely face u "I Shall Be Sorry for Lydia," He Sj Level ly. by heaved, I knew she was not blame." "Have you finished?" asked Brod wiping his brow. It was dripping "Except to repeat that I am throia with you forever. I've had all m can endure and I'm through. My fl est regret is that I didn't get t long ago. But like a fool a weak U I kept on hoping that you'd chas? and that there were better days for me. I kept on hoping that jflj be a real father to me. Good Loj what a libel on the name!" laughed raucously, "I'm sick of caffiS you father. You did me an nos rlnwnstnlra hv palliner me You had no right to call me that,' hv htavon If it WPTA not for thlS nf oarrthnnrrl hern nver D3V heart,' lano-h in vout fnrp nnd be happT chAiit frnm V,a hnnsptnnS that I no snn nf vrrnra Rut there's nO luck as that! I've only to look at mother's innocent, soulful face vr Rrnod in an voice. His clenched hands werenij above his head. "The time ha? c fnv ma. tr toll vmi thfi truth abOUt innocent mother of yours. Luci with you. I am not your father. are" 'Wait! If you are going to teB that mv mother was not a goou J an, I want to go on record in a beial of anvthine vou may say, &s matter my father was. I am glad tw lovd me because I was her cniia, If -you are not my father then i have the joy of knowing that sne some one man well enougb to- broke off the bitter sentence ano nervous fingers drew a 6ma case from his waistcoat Pockeolo0 fore you go any fartner, $ at I her face. - It will mate ashamed of yourseu. o0$i there and lie about her after into" ' JaiBl He was holding the vindoW oPoJ apart,, and a stream of Ugo the lovely face, so small thai tf was obliged "to come quite cio. . able to see it His eyes tended "it is not Matild-it is a but Yes, yes, it is auiu;hoUgr be losing my mind to have , t He wiped his brow. "But, goca j, was .startling positively ua-ja spoke as to himself, apparec--ting that he had a listensr. . "Well, can you lie anout ner demanded Frederic. if W ' Brood was still staring as cinated at the tiny Pbotoge I have never seen that pictura Shemever had one so smau It" (TO BE GQW&VP i . ; - : -
Polk County News and The Tryon Bee (Tryon, N.C.)
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June 11, 1915, edition 1
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