G&5se
WOMAN
THIRD INSTALMENT
"Oh, dozens, I dare say! But I
guess they haven’t made much ac
tual progress. My belief is they
don’t want to discover who did the
shooting.”
"You mean on account of
the—?”
"Secret order nothing!” Mrs.
Holmes exclaimed. They didn’t
kill Amos Ethridge.”
"Who did?”
"A woman.”
"What makes you so positive?”
"Why. the circumstances; the
evidence; the things I saw on the
spot.” The speaker seated herself
and began to rock vigorously. As
she bent her mind upon the task of
visualizing the scene of the tragedy,
her gaze became preoccupied, her
face changed. Her features were
puffed and coarsened by drink, to
be sure, but upon them now was
stamped an expression indicative of
more than ordinary mental power;
it was as if a lamp had been lighted
behind a dirty, cobwebbed window
pane. "To begin with, the number
and the location of the bullet holes
told a story. There were seven of
them—he was shot to pieces. She
shot him twice, so close that there
were powder burns on his shirt;
then she Stood over him and emp
tied her automatic into his body. It
must have been an automatic, from
the number of shots. For that mat
ter, we picked up the empty shells
where they had been ejected. An
other thing, she must have known
this back road well, and that lane;
she must have known he’d have to
get out and open the gate. That
proves she had often been to his
house with him, doesn’t it?”
"But why would he travel this
road at all when the macadam leads
right up to his gates? The papers
ask that?”
"Politics! He was in the race for
the Governorship and he had ene
mies. Probably he knew they were
watching him. No candidate for
the highest political office in the
state could afford to have it known
that his private life was corrupt.”
"Hm-m! Even yet I can’t see
what makes you so positive it was a
woman.”
"You’re as stupid as the police!
If there had been one bullet hole,
or even two, it would have indi
cated a man’s hand. But those
other five shots were fired by
somebody in a frenzy—somebody
who was hysterical—completely out
of his head. Or hers! It was the
.act of an insanely jealous woman—
or—or a man like you.”
"Mother!” Gerald protested,
sharply. Don’t talk like that, even
in fun. The mere fact that a fel
low can draw, as an eye for color,
is no sign that he’s effeminate.”
"Oh, don’t worry! This is just
mv own theory—”
"Pretty weak, I’m afraid.”
"—and I don’t intend to tell it
to the detectives. There are a lot
of people in Westland who would
rather see Amos Ethridge where he
is today than in the Governor’s
chair. And I’m one of them. Look
at that cross over his heart and that
letter in his pocket. D’you think a
man would have stopped to make
a cross out of twigs and lay it on
his breast. No! More power to
the woman, I say. The hand of
God directed those bullets and the
hand of God will protect her. If
we had more women like her we’d
have less unhappiness, fewer ruined
lives and—and blasted careers. He
had the money and the looks to do
anything. He was a whited se
pulcher!”
"He had the money to send me
to art school, too,” Gerald coun
tered, with some feeling. "And to
pay my way for four years. Just
because he saw one of my drawings
on a paper bag—full of eggs! You
never thanked him. You hated him
for it, but—”
inanx mmr ror maxing an
artist out of you? An artist?”
Mary Holmes uttered a scornful
sound. "You were enough like
your father without that.”
Gerald sighed and shook his head
in discouragement. 'His mother
was indeed difficult—a queer wom
an. "Let’s not talk about him or
about father,” he said. "What I
came to see you about is the case
itself. I—I wish to Heaven I’d
been here, so I could have prevented
those wretched newspapers—I’m
afraid you’ll be called as a witness
next.”
"Well, what if I am called?”
"Why—think! You must hav<
been hurt by what they said. II
you go on tne stand tney n want
to know all about us, past history,
everything. The lawyers will dig
it out and the newspapers will make
the most of it.”
"Humph! Maybe they’ll treat me
differently when they know who I
am.”
Gerald stared at the shapeless fig
ure in the rocking chair for a mo
ment, then reluctantly he made up
his mind to speak as gently as pos
sible, but as plainly as necessary.
"Mother, dear, you don’t under
stand what it would mean, for you
can’t see- how you—well, how you
have changed! It hurts me to say it,
but I’m afraid the papers wouldn’t
treat you as sympathetically as you
imagine, or as you deserve. It is so
much easier to ridicule than to sym
pathize or to condone.”
"Oh, I see! Meanwhile, you’re
speaking more for yourself than for
>*
me.
"Fm speaking for both of us!
Can’t you understand that I’m hav
ing a hard battle to make something
out of myself Why handicap me
more? Westland isn’t a large
city—”
',And of course you couldn’t be
known as the son of the 'goose
woman’! Your friends would sneer
at you!”
Gerald defended himself hotly:
"Fm not a cad. Fm not ashamed
of our poverty. But I do have
pride, some decency, and I associate
with the best people I can. It
shocks me, it breaks my heart to
see you steadily deteriorate. I’ve
done what I cou—Id to stop it—”
"What have you ever done, ex
cept preach?” Mrs. Holmes broke
out, angrily.
"I never preached! Please, please
don’t let’s quarrel, or at any rate
let me say what I have to say first.
You resent my profession because
my talent—what little I have—
came from my father. You actual
ly hate me at times, because when
I was born your voice went. As
if that were my fault! I can un
derstand that, after a fashion, but
other things I can’t understand.
For instance, why have you always
tried to strangle whatever there
was in me? Oh, you have! When
I used to sing or play, it threw you
into a rage and you whipped me.
Why, just think, I might have in
herited your musical talent! When
I tried to draw pictures you slapped
my hands. Thank God, Mr. Eth
ridge saw something in my draw
ings and encouraged me to defy you
and—and make something of my
sdf! You yielded finally because
you felt sure I’d fail. When I
made good you refused to let me
come home; threw me out; said you
never wanted to see me again.”
"When you’re like this I certain
ly do hate you,” Mrs. Holmes ad
mitted in a voice totally without
feeling. "You are your father all
iover again.”
| i know!And you blame all this |
—with a comprehensive gesture j
Gerald indicated the ugly, squalid,
disorderly kitchen—"on him. But
I don’t. He isn’t to blame. It’s
| the liquor, mother. And the ter
Irible part of it all is that—you’re
j getting worse. Nothing I say
seems to have any effect and of
course you don’t care what I think.
But it makes you mad when the
newspapers say it. Well, they’ll
say it again, and a lot more if you
become a witness in this Ethridge
case. Your story will be publi'h
ed from one end of the country to
the other. That would end me—
my career, I mean.”
"Your career! What do you
know about a career?”
"Not—not as much as you know,
of course. But, mother, you must
have some pride left in that career
of yours, in your name. Surely
drink hasn’t entirely killed your
self-respect. Even though my
feelings and my future are matters
of indifference to you, do you want
the whole world to know that you
were deserted by your husband and
became a—well, a drunkard and a
. woman of ill repute, as the papers
had it? Do you want them to
know that the notorious 'goose
woman’ in the Ethridge case is
really the once glorious Maria di
Nardi??”
The object of this appeal rose and
tramped about the room. In spite
of the fact that she was not very
sure of her movements, in spite of
her untidy appearance, heightened
by the drab, stringy hair that
drooped carelessly upon her neck
and forehead and the slipshod man
ner in which she wore her garments,
there was nevertheless an air or im
portance about her and a dignity
to her carriage.
"So! I’m a drunkard, a common
woman, a low character—all those
rotten scandal sheets said! And
my own son agrees—tells me so
with his own lips!” The speaker’s
voice was hoarse with passion, vib
rant with dislike. "You dare to
say such things to my face! . . .
You want to know what ails me,
what has become of my pride, what
has driven me down into the mud
and keeps me there. Well, it isn’t
the libuor. It’s you!”
"Mother!”
"Oh, I mean it! D’you think I
drink because I like the stuff? I
_q|_ g5i
"Mother, you don’t understand.”
drink to kill what’s in me here!”
Mrs. Holmes clutched fiercely at
her bosom. "It stupefies me so I
can’t think, so I can’t remember.
I’d have died, otherwise. You took
my voice—”
Again Gerald uttered a cry of
protest, but the speaker ran on,
"You robbed me of my one great
talent, my glory. Yes, I was glori
ous! Everyody said so. Kings
and queens were at my feet, the
world worshiped me. 'Career’! I
had a career—but you killed it.
You! When you were born you
changed me from a nightingale into
a frog. Where would I live if not
in the mud? D’you wonder I de
test you when I think of what you
did? . . . You’re beginning to un
derstand what a career means and
it frightens you to think of losing
it. You’re beginning to under
stand that it means more than
money, more than friends, more
than love, more than anything in
this whole world. That it’s bigger
than all of them. Well, it ought
♦•a rvN lira irr»ii ■fool lilrn in 1 ce-i cci n
for when you killed my voice you
did more than ruin Mary Holmes,
your mother; you murdered Maria
di Nardi, the opera singer, the artist,
the greatest contralto in Europe.
In Heaven’s name, haven’t you done
enough, taken enough, without rob
bing me of what little comfort is
left? A chicken farmer. Me! A
—a 'goose woman’!” Mrs. Holmes
threw back her head and laughed
wildly. "What a joke!” She sank
heavily into her rocker and swayed
her body from side to side. "Oh,
my God! What a joke!”
Gerald rose and laid a hand upon
her drab, uncombed hair. He could
remember dimly, as if in some
childhood dream, when that hair
had been shiny and fragrant and al
most golden in color and when it
had been proudly worn. That
memory left him low in mind and
sick in body. "Is it altogether fair
to hold me responsible for the loss
of your voice?” he inquired.
Mrs. Holmes shook off his hand,
crying: "Don’t paw me! 'Fair’? Is
anything fair? Has life been fair to
me?”
Perhaps I shouldn’t have spoken
as I did. But don’t misunderstand
me. I’ve lived long enough to learn
that there are forces outside of our
selves that ace too big, too resistless,
to be overcome, so I don’t blame
you for the way you feel, mother,
for what you’ve done or for the
dreadful change that has come over
you. I don’t even reproach you.
I only pity—”
"I don’t want pity!” the woman
cried, furiously. The gin she had
drunk earlier in the evening had
failed this time to stupefy; it had
merely deadened what was gentle
in her and roused what was savage
and hateful. Emotionally she was
in turmoil. The truth of Gerald’s
accusations had engendered blind
resentment and a fierce impulse to
defend herself, to fight back, to
hurt him as he had hurt her. A
rat will bite when crushed.
"I had something in mind to tell
you the last time I came out,” the
boy was saying, "but you were in
no mood to listen. I must tell you
now, in view of what has happened
this week. I’ve been working hard
and getting ahead slowly. It won’t
be long, I hope, until I can make
a home for both of us—for all three
of us. I’m going to—get married.”
Mary Holmes stared at him dully.
Here was another shock—to think
of Jerry as no longer a boy, but as
a man old enough to consider mar
W/U M , 8et married.
Who d marry you, the 'goose Wom,
an s son? she inquired.
"That’s what I’m getting at I
don’t propose to be known as the
goose woman’s son. I propose
take you out of this if you>u let
me. I propose to have you come
and live with us and leave all this
behind, if—” hlS
"Then you’ve picked out the
girl?” ne
Gerald nodded. He flushed, and
his sensitive, eager face was slowly
illuminated, glorified by an expres
sion his mother had never seen it
wear. It was an expression, by the
way that caused the years to roll
back and remembrance to smite her.
He was, for the moment, the living
image of his father.
(CONTINUED NEXT ISSUE)
Stork Derby
Mothers Sign
Pact To Share
Toronto—With $500,000 at stake,
there is at least one mother in this
city who is fervently praying that
Mrs. Arthur Timleck does not have
a multiple "blessed event”—twins,
triplets, etc.—this month.
She is Mrs. Matthew Kenny,
mother of thirteen in less than ten
years and leader in Toronto’s ten
year maternity marathon ending in
October of this year and carrying
as its prize money the Millar for
tune.
The half million dollars were be
queathed in a will to the Toronto
mother who gave birth to the larg
est number of babies in the ten
years following the death of
Charier Vance Miller, eccentric
lawyer and sportsman, Octoper 16,
1926.
As the leading contestants come
into the stretch, Mrs. Timleck has
borne ten children in the period
and is tied with Mrs. Steffano Bar
rigo for third place. But—and
that word daily looms larger—trip
lets would tie her for first place
and a Dionne "act” would clinch
the for tune for the Timlecks.
And while Mrs. Kenny lk hoping
against the multiple birth, there
are three other leading contenders
who are praying for Timleck trip
lets—or more.
I hey are Mrs. Darrigo, Mrs.
Ambrose Harrison and Mrs. Gus
Graziano, who, with Mrs. Timleck,
have signed an agreement to share
"on a sliding scale” the $500,000
offered should any one of them be
the winner.
The agreement guarantees all
four contenders an annual income
for the fifty children now consti- S
tuting their families, if one of them |
should win the prize. §
Confident her three-baby lead
will be enough to cinch the for
tune in October, Mrs. Kenny has
refused to becore a party to the
agreement, declaring:
"I’ll have my children and
the halfrmillion dollars, too.”
If those European nations keep
on standing on the brink of war,
some one or more of them will get
dizzy and fall in. Then there’ll be
warnage and carnage most terri
fic.
How Cardui Helps
Women To Build Up
Cardui stimulates the appetite and
Improves digestion, helping women
to get more strength from the food
they eat. As nourishment is Im
proved, strength is built up, certair
functional pains go away and wom
en praise Cardui for helping then:
back to good health. . . . Mrs. C. E
Ratliff, of Hinton, W. Va., writes:
"After the birth of my last baby, 1
did not seem to get my strength
back. I took Cardui again and was
soon sound and well. I have giver
it to my daughters and recommend
it to other ladies.” . . . Thousands
of women testify Cardui benefited
them. If it does not benefit YOU
consult a physician.
Ya ship ns In Pictures
c Window Shades Add Charm to Room |
■HHi’i . %■ Courtesy Window Skad* Inst*,1
Harmonizing your window shades with your room setting
this spring! The smart, new idea in interior decoration.
Hung at the window of this cool beige and white room is
one of the smart self-striped window shades that are fash
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long for they're washable.
Spring In Bermuda
Fun In Bermuda — As Katharine
Gibbs School girls frolic on the
coral sands of that pleasure island ,
Playing leap frog are Miss Dor- i
othea Robinson (leaping) of Wee
hawken, N. J. and Miss Emily i
Brady, of Scarsdale, New York.
Brazil Nut Salad
.— 1 .i
Timely Spring Salads—(use these
ingredients) 1 teaspoon onion
juice, 1 teaspoon Worcestershire
sauce, 1 cup sliced Brazil Nr+s, 2
cups cottage cheese, 1 bum., ro
maine, 1 bunch lettuce, 1 bunch
watercress, radishes, french dress
ing. Directions—Stir onion juice,
Worcestershire sauce and one-half
cup of sliced Brazil Nuts into
cheese, pile into the center of a
shallow salad bowl or platter. Sur
round with green and garnish with
radishes. Sprinkle remaining nuts
over cheese. Pour french dressing
over greens just before serving.
Floors Dress Up In Latest Plaids
It’s smart to be Scotch these days—and now even floors
can wear Scotch tartans. Here is the Royal Stewart, most
noble of all the clan plaids, decoratively made into a rug
for dining room The soft reds and blues blend perfectly
with maple furniture while the white over-plaid picks up
other white accents in the china and wall treatment. If
you favor the Clan Mackintosh, you can build your room
around the tans, browns and greens contained in that tartan
Four other authentic Scotch clan plaids complete the Series, i
Their trim, tailored patterns are equally at home in rooms
of provincial or modern feeling.
STAR LAUNDRY
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Phone 24 114 West Bank St.
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BENT FENDERS
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BAUKNIGHT
DUCO PAINTER
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Phone_141
: Office in Mocksville is Closed
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SECOND FLOOR, WASHINGTON BUILDING
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SALISBURY, N. C.
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