THREE SHUTTERED HOUSES I* . . By BEN AMES WILLIAMS CopyfM*?WNU sanici SYNOPSIS DrMnf home through a torrential rain, young, well-to-do Clint Jerries picks up a Ctrl, scantily clad, running In teiTor-strlcken Sight dosm the road. She rides a short way*, leaves the car and runs Into the woods. Be decides to talk to his dear friends. Inspector Tope snd Miss Moss, ahotjk his adventure. Clint still thinks of her ''as Miss Moss, his former guardian, though she and the Inspector are married. Clint, having settled down, now manages the Jervies estate himself. In three shut tered houses, all gloomy and forbidding, on Kenesaw Hill, near where Clint picked up the frightened girt lived three families. In one bouse Bred old Derunan Hurder, his wife, who had boon Ella Kenesaw. and his daughter. Kitty Leeford. end her daughter June. Living In a second house was Aunt Xvfe Taine, Uncle Justus and brothers Rah and Asa. lbs third held old Matthew Bow den and his wife. Living on the estate was a man known only to June as "Uncle Jim." Following their usual custom the three families gathered in the Hurder home Saturday night Kitty. June's mother, re* tired early with a headache. She was given warm milk, and Insisted en taking two sleeping Unlets, one more than usual Strangely upset. June slept fitfully, and In the middle of the night went In to see her mother. Her uncomfortable position warned June that her mother was not sleeping. She was d?ad> Panic stricken. June ran from the seedT eut the unlocked doer, end into the stexm to get Doctor Cabler. It wes here that Ofcft' Jerries picked her i*. VII CHAPTER IV Inspector Tope and Miss Moss had foimift- In marriage the calm happi ness of middle age. The Inspector had looked all his life on violence, yet With gentle, comprehending eyeg. For a acore of years or more he was at the head of the Hothicide Bureau at Police Headquarters, snd won kr himself there a reputation not soon to be forgotten.^ Miss Moss was in a different fashion as shrewd as be. X, While they were away on their leisurely 'honeymoon, Clint had planned a surprise for them: There was among the properties of the Jerries Trust a one-atory, six-room houpe sandwiched on a narrow lot in Longwood, hidden in a backwater away from the traffic arteries, with four trees on this lot, and room for ? flower-garden. Dana Jervies, Clint's father, had taken hie bride than thtfty years ago; and he had kept it afterward for the sake of sentiment.' Clara and Mat lodged in Ills house for a while after their martfage; , and when Inspector Tope and Mlfle Moss came home from their honeykioaV'Clint met them at the station and drove them to this Jloot'. 1 ?lak Moss, with tears of pleasure in a** eyas, pretested; but Clint said strongly; *Why, of course you'll come here. Th|s is where all tije Jervies family starts housekeeping, you know. Can't go' against tradition." And when the argued the was not of the Jervies family, he insisted gently: ?You're the only mother I can remember, you knew." She yielded at last, said they would stay a little while; but Clint said they should lodge here till be wanted the house for his own bride. "And that will be a long time, by all the signs,'' he promised. Oh the morning after Clint's ride over'Keeesaw Hill, he rang the bell as they were about to sit down to the breakfast Miss Moss had pre pared; and Tope, ia an old blue dreaeMg-gowh end slippers, the morning I pa per crumpled in his hand, opened the door for him. He greeted Clint; and he called over his shoulder: ?Mrs. tfope, here's Clint for breakfast." ,. She appeared for a moment in the dining-room door to smile a welcopne, and bade them both ait down at (he table. "Almost ready," she promised. She watched these two tor a second, a deep fondness in her eyes, before she disappeared into the kitchen again. Whan she presently returned, with the opffee In one hand and a platter or eggs ana oscon in uie other. Tope said! tWalt. Clint. SUrt over now." Ahd he said to Miss Mom: "Mra. Tope, CBn t'a had a curious adven ture. See how it sounds to you." And Clint told them how, driving back to town, he had overtaken a girl in her nightgown, running through the rain upon that lonely road. "Note what do you make of that?" ha asked. challenging them. Miss Mom reflected. "I know a little about that placel" she told them "I know there are three houses, side by side. Matthew Bow don Uvea In one. He's a lawyer, trust law mostly. The firm is Bow don and Taine. Mr. Bowdon must be an old man now. Two of his grandsons are in the firm with him, and Justus Taine, his son-in-law." dint esclaimed: "Well, what I want to know is, who was this girl? What had frightened her?" The Inspector got up and croaaed to the telephone "I wonder if Char ley Hargwidl is downtown." ha said. ..! d? -:k ?: way they do." He spoke to Miss Moss. "This girl I took home. Ma bel Gaye?she was tight. Bound she'd Idas me good night Wanted me to stay?" Miss Moss smiled at the austerity behind his words. "She'll be grate ful to you today," she suggested. Tope said in a mirthful tone: "And you no sooner get rid of her, than another one comes out in her nightgown to waylay ?you, Clint. What is this strange power of yours?" Clint laughed, and then the tele phone rang. Tope went briskly across the room. He said: "Hello I . , . Yes, speaking . . . Oh, yes, Inspector." A silence, while he listened. Then: "Yes, thanks." Another silence; and then Tope said: "Why, I'll come out and see you, and bring him along. Sure." He put up the receiver and turned back to them; and Miss Moss saw that his eves shone. "What is it?" Clint demanded. "Inspector Heale tells me he called up the Medical Examiner," Tope explained. "Doctor Derrie had had no report on the death, so Heale called the family doctor. Doc tor named Cabler. He says Mrs. Leaford died from an overdose of some sleeping-powder." He added, after a moment: ''Accidental." "Accidental?" Miss Moss repeat ed, in a flat tone. There was a moment's silence, and then he added: "Inspector Heale wants to know bow 1 knew about it. And he wants to talk to you, Clint. I think you'd better drive us out there." ? " ? 1 CHAPTER V Clint swung the car off the main < thoroughfare. "This is the road," ' he said. "I'M show you." And he drove more slowly, study- 1 big the way. Woodlands shut them ' in on either side before he stopped at last, where there was a path, and 1 a house among the trees. I "This is where I let her gut," he explained. ^ Tope nodded, looking toward the < house. "Probably Doctor Cabler < lives there," he suggested. "How < far had she ridden with you?" t "I was cpraiqg down this hill," , Clint explained, end be drove on, i said presently: "It must have been , along here sotnewhere that I over- f took her." , Tope commented: "No houses anywhere near." . "They're on top of the hill," Clint < replied. Ha put the car swiftly up . the grade and the three houses | came into view. Tope said, in a low tone as though . he might be overheard: "Drive j slowly, Clint" "I'll stop," Clint amended. He | pulled up the ear beside the road, and got out, under pretext of in specting the tires; but at the same time, under the brim of his hat be looked attentively at these three houses by the road. So did Tope and 1 Miss Moss too. There was an undertaker's gar- ' land attached to the door of the house in the middle; and a car with a doctor's tag stood beside the road. The day was warm and fine after the shower; yet nowhere did Clint see g window open. Some of the shutters were closed and at oth er windows thick curtains hung. Behind the houses, the woods were dark and still. When Clint presently drove on, he looked at Tope to see what impres sion the older man had received. "Well, there they are," he said. "What do you thinkT" t Tope answered with a slow smile: "Why, I get notions. Fool notions, maybe, Clint; but I've got in the habit of believing them. It feels to me as If the people that lived in those houses were afraid." "The girl was afraid," Clint igreed. "But what would they be ifraid of?" "Well," Tope reminded him, his one suddenly grim, "A woman died if poison in there last night If he'd known it was going to hap ten, she'd have had a right to be ifraid." So Clint was silenced; and they :ame on into the suburban town that ras their destination, and found Po ice Headquarters. Miss Moss elect d to stay in the car while they went nside. Inspector Heale came to meet hem. He was lean and gray, and lis brows were extravagantly tushy. He shook Tope's hand, and poke some hearty word. "Might have known you'd be iround," he said humorously. "You tld buzzard! How do you hear about hese things so soon? I didn't even mow Mrs. Leaford was dead till rou called me up." "Done anything?" Tope asked se iously. Inspector Heale bade them come nto his office and closed the door, ind he shook his head. "No," he confessed. "Doctor Derrie's gone o "look her oveT, of course. Doctor fabler hadn't notified him. Cabler vas called in late last night, slept ate this morning. That's why he tadn't phoned Doc Derrie. He said here wasn't any hurry." And he explained: "Mrs. Leaford tad been taking this dop^ for years. She took an overdose once before, ind came near passing out. This ime tt was nearer than-that.** ???? ? ? ? "Dead when Poctor Cabler got hete?" Tope inquired. "Before that, I guess," Heale ex jlained; and he looked at Tope and hen at Clint inquiringly. "But I vant to know how vou heard about t" be reminded them, and Tope lade Clint tell the tale of his ad venture the night before. So Clint repeated his story; and inspector Heale listened without in ?erruption till he was done. "The girl was Miss Leaford," he ?xplained then, "Mrs. Leaford's laughter. She found her mother lead, and the tetephone was out of >rder on account of the shower, so the ran to get the doctor." He [Tinned. "I didn't know she made he trip in her nightie," he ad mitted. "They're a queer lot up here, and she's as queer as the rest of them." "They're that way about every thing," Inspector Heale insisted. 'You take electric lights. Hurder put them in his house, here a few [ears back; and then the others (looked his meter, to save meter de posits. The light company kicked, but those folks on the Hill, they mostly get their own way when they want it Old Mrs. Bowdon?she's seventy if she's a day?you can argue with her till you're blind and ?he don't give an inch. "And Mrs. Taine's as bad," Heale continued. "She's one of these thin, stringy women in a black dress; and she talks in a kind of whisper as if butter wouldn't melt in ber mouth. She can strip the hide off you and never raise her voice. She's a worker, too. She'll put on over alls and go right at it Do any thing. For instance, she wired her own house and Bowdon's, and hooked up the wires in Hurder's cellar. If I didn't know they had money, I'd think they didn't have a cent the way she works all the time." Clint began: "Miss Leaford?" The Inspector said guardedly: "Why, she might be all right for all I know. She's always slipping around through the woods, alone, like a wild animal; and she never speaks to you. Passes you right by-" (TO BE CONTINUED) Tibetans Depend on Species of Worms To Provide die Necessary 'Pick-Me-Up' A curious little worm, which is i used by Tibetan natives as a "pick me-up," has attracted the attention i of missionaries. Locally known as "grassworms," i they make their habitat in lofty 1 mountain ranges of the Tibetan border, near the Tatsienlu leper home conducted by the Friars Minor of the Hankow Vicariate. ' Natives eat them dead or alive for medical purposes In either form they bring fancy prices They are in great demand for the mentally depressed and for sufferers of stom ach trouble. When dead they are mixed with boiled chicken. In this concoction they are said to react wonderfully as "pick-me-ups" When live worms without cocoons are dug up they are mixed with a strong liquor, distilled from malra, Taken in this form they are considered a potent rem edy against stomach ills. So valuable is the "grass-worm" considered that hundreds of hunters make a living by gathering them. The hunters swarm the mountain slopes to search for these worms. They eesfly ted eager buyers, sax loui to purchase all they can dig up In the winter season, the ground Is covered with these insects. More often they are found in the cocoon, less often without. In either form they find a ready market Though somewhat smaller, they resemble silk-worms in appearance. The head is covered by a bright red crust As winter approaches they burrow head-first straight down into the ground. Here they spin thin cocoons in which they wrap themselves. When the snow melts, their beads begin a sprouting proc ess. Thin haint resembling grass, spring from the soil. The people of the district believe that the sprouting blades open like flowers and scatter spores which in due time develop into other worms. Who's Afraid af Pilate's Ghost Tourists and botanists who climb the slopes of Mount Pilatus in Swit zerland to collect some of the SOC different wild flowers that grow there, have long forgotten that il was not till the Sixteenth centurj that anyone approached it Pilate'i ghost was supposed to hover there Mining Town Is Ghost at Last Only Shacks Are Reminder Of Old Boom Days in Wyoming City. SOUTH PASS CITY, WYO.?Wyo ming's newest ghost town, South Pass City, has only a few weather beaten frame shacks to remind visi tors of the days when it boasted at a population of 9,000 gold-hunters, pi oneers and gamblers. Abandoned more than 30 years after the rest of the state's famous early-time mining camps were de serted by their nomadic settlers. South Pass City is surrounded by several booming modern mining camps. It lies near the crest of the Continental Divide on the old Ore gon Trail, 60 mUes northeast of Rock Springs. In 1860 when the gold rush began. Easterners and Mid - Westerners flocked to the almost-virgin wilder ness of Wyoming. Ore was found in large quantities, and the rapid in flux of gold-seekers continued. Wind All That Remains. Gamblers, bartenders and dance hall girls followed so that by 1865 South Pass City was one of a score of rip-roaring mining towns, echo ing to the clink of picks and shovels on rock, the blaring music of hon keytonk dance halls, the bark of six shooters and the whine of the wind. The wind is ail that remains to dis turb the quiet of the hastily-con structed boom town. In 1878, with the decline of metal markets, the rest of the roaring frontier communities became ghost towns. The miners, gamblers and entertainers moved on to more lu crative fields. South Pass City, however, sur vived, although most of its residents departed. When modern methods were introduced in the 1920s, several large mining firms established them selves near the once-famous town to extract an estimated $500,000 in gold ore from the surrounding hillsides. Hong On for Time. The little town retained its post office and place on the map while other communities of its kind were remembered only in name. Other ghost towns of the state, some marked by a few staggering frame shacks, still others torn down by the elements and settlers, in clude Cambria, in northeastern Wy oming near Newcastle; Battle, south of South Pass City in the Medicine Bow National forest; Rambler, two miles south of Battle; Eadsville, atop scenic Casper mountain, and Lavoye, in the Salt Creek field in Natrona county. National Parks to Offer More Camping Facilities SAN FRANCISCO. ? Americans 'are rapidly becoming camping con scious, according to Julian H. Salo mon, national park service camping specialist of Washington- n On a tour of the California camp ing sites, Salomon explained this phase of the nations] park service's 1 work as fallows: "It was assumed," be said, "that there were numerous agencies in the country interested in. camp opera tions if they could ? be assisted in obtaining suitable sites, and facili r/ i ? i "fw ? "It vai also thought that smaller agencies operating camps would be able to pool their efforts If offered improved facilities to encourage better service. "As a result, through consultation with local agencies, carpp develop ment was studied thoroughly from the viewpoint of the committee's needs. Out of these consultations came organized ramping for family boys, girls, educational and other groups utilizing facilities careftilly planned to provide the greatest use at a minimum coat." Salomon said that in 1838 there were only nine camps in operation in the United States with a total of 37,310 camper days. For 1938 these figures were in creased to 49 camps with a total of 376,173 camper days. The service expects to have at least 60 campe in operation with a probable total of 00,000 camper days for 1939. Matrimonial Agency Is Operated From Prison 'COLUMBUS, OHIO.?The opera tion of a matrimonial agency known as the "Idealist club," from Ohio penitentiary, was disclosed today with suspension of S. M. Current, a Bertillon officer. Current, whose Job it was to take photograph, fingerprints and meas urements of prisoners, had been en gaging in the matrimonial enter prise on his employers' time, Acting Warden William F. Amrine said. He was suspended 30 day*. One of Current's matrimonial cir culars read: "Our sole aim is to help you find your Ideal and wa do not cease in our efforts until the desired goal is reached. Send in the enclosed membership application today and let us start working for your happi ness at once." i j Double Play ; BELLINGHAM, WASH.?Outfleld . er Ed Stewart, of Vancouver, swung so hard at a fast one that be knocked himself out Tuesday night He missed the ball, hit Mm?if fa, the head. ?? Lights of New York byL. L. STEVENSON Not so long ago, Arthur French played before 50,000 persons. Now he often watches 50,000 persons at play. Back in 1920 he was captain of the Harvard football team and just about single-handed defeated Yale in the traditional game. Two days after his graduation, he had a job. Punching tickets at Manhat tan beach. Since then, he has done just about every chore, except chef in the kitchen about the resort. Now he is general manager and holds the rank of vice president of the Joseph P. Day Enterprises. He married Mr. Day's daughter and lives a happy home life over in Short Hills, N. J. He still keeps up with athletics to a certain extent. Man hattan beach is two miles long. At least 10 times a day, he travels the entire length. Then, too, in his spard time, he invented a football and basketball, one-third regulation size, to train youngsters for those games when they grow up. ? ? ? Instead of being stranded, vaude ville is now sanded. At least it is out at Manhattan beach. To house the week-end performances, which read like the bills of the old Palace, Mr. French has constructed a mod em amphitheater with a seating capacity of 10,000. The stage re sembles the Hollywood Bowl but is of original design. It has private offices and dressing rooms for the stars and a private sun porch where the artists can enjoy a day at the beach out of reach of autograph hounds. John Philip Sousa III, grandson of the great bandsman, who opened the old Manhattan beach bandstand, is the band leader and he swings the marches of his famous grandsire. Recently he an nounced his engagement to Miss Jean MacDonald of Hazleton, Pa. ? ? ? ?' Getting back to General Manager French, the Harvard star of other days. He has still another connec tion with athletics. Under his su pervision are 82 handball courts, 22 tennis courts, 15 basketball courts, several championship swimming pools and numerous other activi ties, including bridge classes. ? ? ? In the opinion of Earl Robinson and Alex North, composers for the Federal theater production, "The Life and Death of an American," it is easier to compose a new song than to find an old one, especially if the latter' happened to be a na tional hit Among the recordings called for by the script are "Yes, We Have No Bananas," "Missouri Waltz," and "Turkey Trot." In the first music shop visited, Robinson and North encountered a girl of about 18. She had never heard of "Yes, We Have No Bananas," but thought it was a swell title. The composers went out feeling like Rip Van Winkles. ? ? ? I The Columbia university library finally yielded "Yes, We Have No Bananas," but could do nothing about "Turkey Trot" or "Missouri Walts." From the New York Pub lic library came the sheet music of "Turkey Trot" and when'the play opened, a pit orchestra had to be substituted for a gramaphone. The grandmother of a member of the cast donated the "Missouri Waltz" record. Then it was learned that there was no "Over There" record. A long search disclosed one at the bottom of a pile of old records in a Ninth avenue second-hand furniture store. ? ? ? In the old days, it used to be the cellar. Then it was the basement. Now, according to what I was told at the Court of Flame at the World's fair, it is the "Rumpus Room." It seems that the "Rumpus Room" is a place where you can have a lot of fun and make a lot of noise. The one at the fair has Just about everything in the way of athletic apparatus except a bowling alley. And there's an easy chair and book table, too. Curiously enough, it's heated with a gas furnace. And there was a time when I was pun ished by being sent down to the cel lar. That wasn't all there was to it, however. When I got down there I had to sort potatoes. |B?U Syndicate?WNU Service.) Asleep ? lean JOHANNESBURG, SOUTH AF RICA Anna Swanepoel, a South African woman who has been al most continually asleep for more than 25 years, has been moved from her bed in the chronic sick home, Rietfontein, to the Johannesburg general hospital. She had occupied the bed for 19 years. Old School Photograph Reflects Judge's Regret MONTEREY, CALIF.?After imposing a fine of 925 on Ralph ! Small, of Stockton, for reckless driving, Police Judge Monte Hel | lam drew a mangled grammar school picture from his wallet, and beckoned the prisoner to his side. Pointing to a small boy in the first row, he said: "Isn't that youT" "Yes?that's me, all right," the prisoner replied. Then, pointing to a tall lad in 1 the back row, Judge Hellam said: "And that's me. Sorry I had to do it, but it's the law." u ? ? 11 >| 'J' V !? Mill Hkfa ftl ? PHOTOGRAPHY KODAK ROLLS DEVELOPED Including 0 deckle edged no-fade prtnla and one double weight enlargement tor Me in coin. Past service. Address orders with coin to LAT8HAW PHOTO SERVICE. CENTEHV1LLE MARYLAND. 1 1 ? ????!? Films Developed QRc 8 DECKLE EDGE PWKTS /J * * 'wJSrmF,ts5srMm1 (com) MAIL FILMS TO JvtfL aBJpj Soon Settled A stage-struck youth had pes tered a manager for a hearing, and at last got one. "Tell me," began the manager, "do you aspire to comedy or trag edy?" "Tragedy," bleated the youth. "Well, let me hear you recite something." Striking an exaggerated pose, the aspirant began: "To be or not to be?" "Not to be, undoubtedly," said the manager, showing him out. Convinced at Last An income tax repayment claim had been made far $20,. but tbe taxpayer had miscalculated the amount, far actually $30 was due to him. A check far this amount was sent, and this is how he ac knowledged it: "Dear Sir,?I am now 70 years of age. At last I believe in Santa Claus." MATTER OF SPEED "You and Jack are fast friends, aren't you?" "Yes, but he's faster than I am." Misplaced Punctuality Counsel?How fast were you go ing at the time of this accident? Motorist?I can't remember ex actly, but I was Just in time for it. Leaf sad Sheet at It The well-meaning old lady looked pityingly rwmd the cell and then addressed U* convict. "How did the police manage to catch you, my poor fellow?" "I was too short-legged, mum." "Dear me?and what was your crime?" "I was too long-Angered." The schoolboy who wrote, "la some states people are put to death by elocution," should have ? received something for it. Orators sometimes bore us to death. Not So Fast The doctor rushed out of his study. "Get my bag at once!" be shouted. "Why, dad," asked his daughter, "what's the matter?" "Some fellow just phoned he can't live without me!" gasped the doctor, reaching for his hat. His daughter breathed a sigh of relief. * ' ? "Just a moment," she said qui etly. "1 think that call was tot me." a ^ I BUREAU OFI STANDARDS ? A BUSINESS organization which wants to get the most tor the money rets np standards by which to judge what is ottered to it, just as in Washington the govern ment maintains a Bureau of Standards. ?Ton can have your own Bureau of Standards, too. Just consult the advertis ing oolumns of your news paper. They safeguard your purchasing power every day of every year.