Newspapers / Henderson Daily Dispatch (Henderson, … / May 4, 1940, edition 1 / Page 2
Part of Henderson Daily Dispatch (Henderson, N.C.) / About this page
This page has errors
The date, title, or page description is wrong
This page has harmful content
This page contains sensitive or offensive material
Ruth V. Natl-. C. P. Phone photo Beautiful Ruth V. Watts. J.", of Saio Lake City. Utah, was u> ! ;tw been married soon to Kr;.":; h. !.oo. also 25. The couple v-as ::i I.oo's car in the I'ta:: cat* :al w'.-.cn a holdup man ;-iu: and Ic-.i the ffiwrr.-to-be. Helps Denmark x<. "v^iSSEI Ruth Bryan 0\w:i Rohde One of t'.io - Amer ica". Filer.: • i Freedom and Di. . •: . •. Bryan Owen R h . \ s Minister to Denn ark. n i< an sup port for which •wiil offer inf . search iacilitie: on all Danish matters. Amor«s t:v rs aro Dorothy Canfield Fisher, i veli Hendrik "Willem Van L ;-.uthor-histo riar.; Ray Ly:>i..:i educator, and Herbert Bayard Swope. Policeman Wanted! - • —.-^vssaBa Samuel Harden Church Samuel Harden Church, president of tha Carnegie In-J :te, acting for a eroup of Pitt- mh residents, has otfered $1.0' ■) reward for the capture oi A-;.:: Ki:U r. German Chancellor, to be <L . \. i to the league ox Nat- r u-nd trial 'during month of May. At tl is writ ing, the $1,C0< safe. Removed from Ship i ^ Fritz von Opel •jlnventor and financier known as the THenry Ford" of Germany, Fritz (von Opel was taken off the Italian .lliner Conte di Savoia by British ^contraband control at Gibraltar.' Tllnroute to U. S., he was traveling ' on a Lichtenstein passport. fU A RICHAR^/HOUGHTON BITTEN FOR AND RELEASED BY CENTRAL PRESS ASSOCIATION CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT THE BOAT landing was a hot place to wait, but it bad one great advantage. 1 didn't have to look at the garden and its terrible mem ories. 1 hung my feet over the edge and squinted toward the setting sun. The light ^n the water was :i flame that burned my eyes. Eargcs and speed boats passed in a dis torting mist. Time dragged. I asked myself, how would I feel in George Markham's place? Suopose I had a lovely sister, and the man who killed my brother wanted to marry her? No matter that it was not mur der—how would I feel? There seemed to be only one an swer. I would not want that man to take mv brother's place. Every time we met. the shadow of my brother would be between us. And even though George Mark ham might forgive, would I-ouise forgive?" I would have to tell her some day. I could not keep tais bottled in my heart The sun was close to the hori zon. George had said. "I'll come b"<•?: *>mdov.:i with my an swc..' . i.anied this suspense to end. and yet 1 was afraid of his coming. What was he doing? Was he go ing to the police with my story ? The ball of the sun burned red as it sank into the molten clouds. It vanished. Purple shadows stretched long fingers toward inc. Warmth died away. I shivered. A boat came by with lights aglow. I heard the tinkle of glass inside the clubhouse as tiic ttiK.es were set for dinner. Stili George Markham did not appear. The clubhouse door opened shortly before S o'clock. I rose un steadily and started toward the man who came out. Then 1 halted. It was Captain McDonald. He didn't see me. Instead, he walked slowly to the willows by the river's edge and studied the ground near where Calla had at tacked me. He removed his hat and scratched his head. In the semi darkness I could just make out the shadow of his cigar as it moved from one side of his mouth to the other. Soon the door opened again and Coroner Silver came out and joined him. I remembered with a shudder that the young coroner had de clared he would continue his inves tigation unofficially if necessary, until the killer of Alfred Markham was apprehended. The two bloodhounds were en gaged in low-voiced conversation. The willows shielded me from them now. so I walked nearer, as casual ly as I could. My feet made no sound on the soft garden soil. "That cook certainly is a wiz,"' the captain was saying. "I wish I'd discovered this place before. And to think that it took a murder to do it!" "You know," s.-„d Coroner Sil ver, "I was afraid for a time that we weren't going to get along to gether. This business of two offi cers of the law pulling in opposite directions isn't at all conducive to good results." "Right. You've got good ideas, Jim. but you need a little more ex perience. I can help you, and may be you can help me." "What do you mean, 'maybe'?'' "We-ell, it takes an old hand like me a long time to change his methods." "A* lonr"- as it will take rr.e to My heart leaped. ! found his hand gripping mine. got experience?" The captain slapped tthc young er man mi the shoulder. "You're okay, Jim." They both laughed. I moved away, fearful of di" 'covery. The conversation did not seem significant, but on the other hand it" they wur? going t'> pull together now they might yet oreak down my alibi. I was alarmed. Again the clubhouse door opened. I recognized Gecrge Markham un der the row lights that had been strung between the wings of the building. He strode toward me. "Sorry I'm so late," he said. "I've been doing a lot of investi gating." He sat down on one of the benches and motioned me to sit beside him. For a moment he was silent. Thcj", "Perhaps I am old fashioned. Strickland, but I've al ways thought of a di'ug addict as mere or lesi a bc-ast. What you told me this afternoon was a shock. I've confirmed what you said. The dope fiend is ? rnr.n to be- pitied. It's a disease. "I've talked with St. Clair and others who attended that fatal party. They admitted my brother held been acting strangely in the earlj' part of the evening." "What have you decided?" "Net guilty." lay heart leaped. I found his hand gripping mine. "It was the best thing that could have happened," he contin ued. "You didn't really kill my brother. The drug killed him. You put an end to his miseries and cut short his life before his disgraceful secret became known—because it wouk*. hav.v been c. disgrace, for Louise at Isnst. J think the Mark ham family, instead of prosecuting you ''V vNvi you cid. not intend to do, tl:0n!r you from the bottom of its *hoart for what you iliit do. I think if Alfred wo re here, ho would thank you, too. Did you know that ho k-ft a will which es tablishes the hospital ho had long dreamed about?" 1 tried to answer. My voice choked up on me. "I guess that's all," said Mark ham. He rose. "I—I feel terribly upset tonight, naturally. I have a headache. Louise doesn't know about this, of course, and I had planned to take her to the movies to cheer her up. I—I can't." "Of course not." I got to my feet. "So I suggested to her that you might take my place. She, I am sorry to say, liked the idea!" He managed to smile. "You will find her waiting in the car at the club house steps." I swallowed. His hand was on my shoulder. "Good luck," he said. As I walked toward the glass doors I was close behind Captain McDonald and Coroner Silver, go ing in to have dinner together. "George Markham was in to see me this afternoon," the roroner was saying. "He is willing to have us drop the whole matter. The newspapers have forgotten it al ready, he points out, and we will not lose as much prestig< as though we continued our efforts, kept the headlines stirred up, and then had to admit failure. There certainly are no clucs. That's why I say it must have been done in a fit of anger, with no preparation." "You're crazy. Silver. It was an inside job. I wish I could find who it was planned to switch those lights off at 10:.'J0 in case the cook didn't do it." He growled. "But I guess you're right. Let's forget it. Boy! Do I smell steak!" (The End) Operating at 50 M. P. H. Illustrating the modern system of treating wounded soldiers, an actual surgical operation is being performed in this trailer hospital while the unit travels at 50 miles per hour away from the Western Front toward a French base hospital. \ * ft p» - . -» — wire rreservfirc — o Don t throw away ol.i tablecloths. If . <■ away ol.t tablecloths. If th jc is enough "oods loft in a large cloth worn mis U tlT °f'list;ir,linP , I t , f ho, f'not rnoujrh coo-1 niu''f-' small napkins to room P'CmC3, mxh r,icals or sick Wire Preservers |£?eo qv«"v ~ When opening a bottle of ammonia or other liquid which gives off strong fumes, hold bottle well up with aims held in horizontal position. The same method may be used when pouring, thus saving nose and eyes fr<jm effect of fumes. At NLRo Hearing Edwin S. Smith Edwin S. Smith, member of the na tional labor relations board, testi fies before Smith committee in Washington investigating the NLRB. He said he had made many long-distance phone conversations and other communications with Harry Bridges, West Coast CIO leader, often at the government's expense. Wife Preservers i—— —j—- i I ggg, ^ A-'SI —11 To keep a coat closet in prood order, snap clothespins to hold rubbers and over shoes together in pairs is a handy contriv ance. CHAPTER 1 OLD MR. MERRIFIELD should have known better. Impulsively he ordered this advertisement run once in the HELP WANTED-FE MALE column of the leading daily paper: "Mr. Benjamin W. Merrifield wishes to secure (he services of a young lady of exceptional talents, for a confidential employment which can be definitely remuner ative. initial qualifications arc: |l) That she foe unmarried; (2) that she foe not more than 23 years of age; (3) that she foe un mistakably pretty; (4) that she be a gentlewoman in fact as well as in appearance. Candidates will ap ply to Mr. Merrifield in person, at his home, The Oaks, in Montrose Manor, at eight o'clock Wednesday morning." He had just dictated the essence and some of the wording of that want ad to his male secretary, a severe gentleman of Mr. Merri field's own age, and one even more deeply rooted in tradition. "This is most extraordinary, Mr. Merrifield," the secretary protest ed, mildly. "One's curiosity, I must confess, is—" "One's curiosity be damned!" Benjamin W. Merrifield snapped. "Do as I say and don't try to butt in, Mr. Weems." "Oh, of course, sir! Eut—a young woman—a pretty young woman—a pretty young woman—" Mr. Merrifield turned to him tes tily, his snowy head shaking a bit. He and his secretary, Jason Weems, had fought thus for almost 50 years. "I said a pretty young woman, Mr. Weems, and I mean a pretty young woman! I want no other. Is it a sin for a young woman to be pretty? Or for me to want one in my employ?" "They can be very dangerous, Mr. Merrifield," said Mr. Weems, solemnly. Gray-haired Mr. Weems was an astute man. Mr. Merrifield chuckled in satis faction while the other man tele phoned the newspaper. He had set the hour at 8 a. m. tomorrow for a reason. "The smart ones will be up and reading early, Mr. Weems," he ex plained. "I want no lazy person in my employ." "Of course not, sir. The youth of today is all too prone to—" Mr. Weems was off then on one of his favorite topics. Together they talked for half an hour. Then at 9 p. m. both old gentlemen went dutifully to bed. At 5:30 a. m. both were up and at breakfast in their respective dining rooms—Mr. Weems also had lived in this vast brick residence for more than 20 years—and at six they had met again in Mr. Merri field's main study to begin the day's work. Not that, either had to work—Benjamin W. Merrifield was worth more than 10 millions, and Mr. Weems had been comfortable for years—but they agreed that idleness for anybody was a sin. Un til they should be interrupted at 8 o'clock—if the advertisement should bring any response—they would be busy tabulating monthly reports of earnings and losses from the two largest Merrifield copper mines. At 20 minutes to seven, however. Graham, the butler, came into the study carrying an envelope on a tray. Mr. Weems took it carelessly, but read its inscription with sud den interest. "It is marked 'Personal and Ur gent,' sir." said he, passing it on to his employer. Mr. Merrifield scowled at the interruption, but he opened the envelope and read: "Dfar Mr. Merrifield: The type of girl you want in response to your advertisement is, / believe, one who will get to your attention ahead ot the crowd. I have every sympathy for the hun dred or more girls who are sure to be here at eight, but ev-en now I am at your front door. May I come m? CAYLE DIXON." Old Mr. Merrifield's face bright ened. He reached to push back a white cowlick—habit of the dec ades—and grinned somewhat tri umphantly at solemn Mr. Weems. "Graham, that young lady at the door—show her in. And Graham, "Miss Dixon—I want you to make love to my grandson wake up my confounded grandson! You hear me?" "Yes, sir! At once, sir!" • Mr. Merrifield always shouted a little at his servants and helpers when he was excited. He was long accustomed to being obeyed. Nor did the old tyrant bother to enlighten his secretary; this was too nice a chance to torture his friend a bit further. He chuckled while Mr. Weems just sat waiting solemnly. Both men stood up when Gayle Dixon came in. Their courtesy was entirely in voluntary; spontaneous. Miss Dixon was, somehow, just a bit regal, a girl to command instant respect. She was dressed simply but taste fully. She moved with complete poise, and she smiled directly at the two old gentlemen. She did not gush a greeting, nor even speak at all until Mr. Merrifield had ap praised her and personally pulled a chair nearer the fireplace blaze for her. "Won't you — sit down, my dear?" He bowed in courtly man ner. "I knew you would be like this, Mr. Merrifield," she confided all at once. Her voice was lovely to hear. Muted, toneful, intimate but digni fied, too. She sat down quietly, ad miring the fireplace and its fix tures, the desk and chairs and books, the room in general, in quite frank manner. "Thank you, sir, for letting me come in early. You will want to ask me ques tions?" "Why, I—" Benjamin W. Merri field swallowed. He was not the first man to be momentarily over whelmed by Gayle Dixon. "Yes. I— we—this is my secretary, Mr. Weems." • "How do you do, Mr. Weems!" Mr. Merrifield poked at the fire. It served to restore his own poise. When he sat down he could go straight to the matter at hand, as was his custom. "You wish to work for me. Can you meet all the qualifications?" "I am unmarried. I am not yet 23. I try hard to be a gentlewoman. As to any beauty, sir—will you not judge that for yourself?" He smiled at her again, nod ding. "Family?" "A mother, and some distant cousins, no more. I help mother fiancially." "You speak well. You are—ex ceptionally pretty. Your face shows character. But you haven't asked what sort of work i want and—" lie wps interrupted by the open ing of the door to his right. They turned to see a young man entrr He was wearing a blue bathfob?. and house slippers: thai went prop, plop, plop; or nnybe it w.is slop, slop. His han was tousled. h:;j eyes bleary. "Graham said that . rr a hurry for—" "Jeremy!" Mr. Merrif :•••>,, • roared it. "You show y.mi. li ,, great disadvantage! M. 1,. may I present my l':\: Jeremy Tucker!" Acknowledging the Gayle suppressed a qu: ,. s: The sleepy newcomer ing her. His mouth i ■; He colored "rather painfull v, . mered some sort of apology, r u long, slender fingers thr>.'.i-h h. hair, fumbled with his rob-. "Jeremy is—ah, engaged in what he terms scholastic r < arch, Miss Dixon. Please go a:.. -:?«•<-- . Jeremy." The old gentler: an i • • : back to the fire. "Now, Mi 1 about your—" For the ensuing half hour or so he probed her shrewdly wi'.i. rra tions, talked of her past, ln.r j n . ent, her ambitions and ideals, be came as thoroughly acquaint-; with her as he could reasonably hope to do in so short a time. The more they talked the more satis fied he appeared. Mr. \Vei:',s ■< duced that much by watch in.? .5 employer's nodding. For that mat ter, Mr. Wcems' own critic.'.! . tudy of her could find nothing tarzilv on which to ba.se dislike; to kin. her only faults seemed to he 'j she was pretty and young. They were interrupted again by Graham, the butler, who came in with distress obvious on his some what large face. "I am sorry, sir, but some of them are quite insistent, ar.ii— dear me, Mr. Merrifield, there are more than 300 young women crowding the rooms down stairs, and on the lawn are—!" Gayle moved to look out a win dow and the three men came to look, too. For a long moment they stared. Mr. Merrifield was appalled. He was about to say something when Gayle spoke first. "I wish there was some way for you to hire all of them!" They walked slowly back to the fire. Graham stood waiting onli rs. Mr. Merrifield's old hand trembled a bit, revealing his agitation as he readied again to poke the fire. "You—you have not even asked me what kind of work I want you to do. my dear," he said. "You im press me a great deal. You say you very much need a job. but—" "I knew that you would tell nu when you were ready, sir. Can you tell me now ?" He turned to look at her apneal insly "Yes. 1 do none you will worl: for me. You were right, 1 writ .1 girl who can somehow step ahead 1 of the crowd. I can pay you well ! Miss Dixon—I want you to irake ilove to my grandson To .J.remy, I the oOokhsh young man \. i. > j just here." (Tit "e ("ontint'ed* Ready for Nazis General Torngren General Torngren is in command of the stroQg Swedish garrison which will protect the island of Gotland from any invasion by Germany. The island, off the southeast coast of Swed2n, in the Baltic, assumes strategic importance with fear of an impending invasion. As Singer Won Her Daughter Marion Talley, former opera star, takes over custody of her daiur Susan, 5, from her husband, Adolph Eckstrom, whose head is hov ■ tears. Asked if the hand-holding meant a reconciliation, Miss ^ said, "Absolutely not." Susan had seen her mother only twice ^ when Miss Talley entered Eckstrom's New York apartment arni<,".. a court order giving her custody of the girl nine months of each They will go to Miss Talley's Beverly Hills, Cal., home.
Henderson Daily Dispatch (Henderson, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
May 4, 1940, edition 1
2
Click "Submit" to request a review of this page. NCDHC staff will check .
0 / 75