PAGE SIX
STRAIT
GATE
By RUTH
COMFORT MITCHELL
Copyright
D. Appleton—Century Co., Inc.
WWW Servlc*
The story
CHAPTER I Sarah Lynn Dana,
youngest o t the Dana women o( Dana
vale, Calif., chafes at the well-ordered
life approved by her mother, Adelaide,
who is trying to marry her to Duncan
Van Doren, Detroit society youth. Great-
Granny Dana, covered-wagon pioneer,
and community matriarch, recognizes in
the girl the restless adventurousness of
the Danas,” a trait shared by her
and Cousin Sally Ann Dana, traveler and
author, and pleads with Sally Ann to
take the girl abroad.
CHAPTER ll—Uncle Lynn, wheelchair
Invalid, adds his plea to Sally Ann to
save Sarah Lynn, as does the girl's
young brother, Bill. Another plea comes
from Miss Pennington, “Penny,” ador
ing governess of the girl, saying she is
unnappy and misunderstood. Charmed
with Sarah Lynn at their first meeting,
C l l A r* r* nnnc'Ho*-o ♦ V*Mao
CHAPTER III—At a family dinner
party, Sally Ann first hears of Keaton
Dana’s ultra-modern wife, Ardine, who
runs a roadhouse called the Stewed
Prune, and is trying to wangle a flight
with Gunnar Thorwald, Norwegian ace,
famous for his refusal to fly women,
through their mutual friend, Jim Allison.
Sally Ann tells Adelaide of her desire to
take Sarah Lynn abroad. At the height
of Adelaide's displeasure, Gunnar Thoi'-
wald arrives with Jim Allison, and Sarah
Lynn is instantly attracted to him. Dun
can invites her to the Stewed Prune.
CHAPTER IV—Sarah Lynn, loathing
the Stewed Prune, refuses to drink any
thing but ginger ale, which Ardine
herself serves. Cousin Mary Dana Web
ster tells Sarah she suspects Ardine and
her friends of framing on Gunnar, and
Sarah Lynn, in an increasing stupor,
decides to warn him. When Gunnar ar
rives, angry at Jim Allison for missing
connections, he hears Sarah Lynn cry.
"Go away! Don’t come in! Ladybug, fly
away home,” and sees her carried out
to the ladies' room, unconscious.
CHAPTER V
Jim Allison and a couple of his
friends had arrived at the field.
"’Evening, Petey!” /llison greeted
the man who stepped forward.
"Lieutenant Thorwald’s delayed, so
I’ll warm up for him.”
"Okeh, Cap'n Allison.”
“Gas her, will you? Get the
weather report. He’ll want to hop
immediately.”
"I betcher! Told me he was off
at—”
“I told you he was delayed. Snap
into it, will you?” Allison said
sharply.
"Okeh, sir.” He started away.
“May have to sleep out in Mexi
co; there’s a big roll of bedding to
stow away.”
"I’ll tend to it, sir.”
"You do what I told you. I’ll
take care of the bedding. You let
it alone; understand?”
The man hurried off. “Walk wide
of him this night,” he told a youth
in overalls, out of the corner of his
mouth. “He’ll bite the head off
you.”
“Yeah? Had d coupla drinks
again? He better cut that out.”
They were standing together when
Reedley and Lieutenant Thorwald
drove up, and the older man saluted
clumsily.
"She's purrin’ like a pussy cat,
sir, but Cap’n Allison, he went home
sick, poor feller. He couldn’t hold
his head up. He says you must hop
without him and he'll telygraft to
Los Angeles.”
"Very good,” the Norseman nod
ded. He turned to the medical stu
dent with a stiff bow. “I am obliged.
You may go.”
“All right, then,” Reedley said,
relieved. “I sure hope there won’t
be any more jinx!”
The aviator did not answer. He
was stepping swiftly about his ship,
ice-blue eyes keen for the faintest
flaw in her shining perfection.
Reedley ran back to his car,
Jumped in, backed and turned and
slid into high and was off at top
speed. Half a mile down the road
• parked car snapped on its lights
and honked noisily, and he jammed
on his brakes and came to a slither
ing stop.
“Okeh?” Jim Allison asked
boarsely.
“Well—Lord, I guess so!” Reed
tey-AAid. Beads of sweat stood on
Ilia . - „ a night!”
“And what a a.y is coming!”
someone in the flier's car contribut
ed. “Say, Jim, those doors don’t
fly open or or anything, do
they?”
“No.” Allison said shortly.
“Well—better beat it back to the
Prune and rehearse our parts with
Ardine.”
Sarah Lynn said to herself: “I
can’t possibly sleep with the music
beating and pounding, but I don’t
want to wake up, because I can pre
tend I’m flying ...”
Her head ached hideously and her
mouth was dry. But the air in her
nostrils now was sharp’ and sweet
and cold, and she was shivering.
“I’m pretending so hard that I’m
actually cold!” she exulted. “But
I won’t open my eyes, because Dun
can will think I’m asleep, and let
me alone.” She dozed again. Then
“I wonder if I could open my eyes
. . . they’re so heavy. I never
heard such noisy music, and there
isn’t any tune; just throbbing and
pounding and roaring.
“I think I’ll open my eyes for a
minute, now, but I’ll keep right on
making believe I’m not here.” Then
she was saying in a scared whis
per: “I can pretend with my eyes
wide open! Sitting right here in the
Stewed Prune with the horrible mu
sic roaring at me, I can pretend I’m
in a plane, up among the stars, fly
ing away in the night!”
Her teeth were chattering; her
heart was in her throat; her head
blazed with pain. “But why am I
pretending to be all wrapped up in
blankets? Mercy, if I can make-be
lieve like this I needn’t ever be
afraid of anything again—not Ar
dine, nor Mother, nor Duncan, nor
Detroit! Nothing will matter!” Her
nostrils dilated and she pulled deep
drafts of cold air into her lungs.
Her head cleared. She sat bolt up
right.
A rush of air, chill, stinging,
sweet. A great round moon of daz
zling platinum. Stars; stars; stars.
The steady pounding throb of a mo
tor. A small, compact space en
closing her, and directly before
her, and —directly before her—
square shoulders in creamy leather,
a head ii\ a sternly classic helmet.
Sara*h Lynn heard her own voice
in a strangled whisper—
“Am I even pretending—him?”
Gunnar Thorwald, Norwegian ace,
was flying in a cold rage. He was
hurt, disappointed, deeply disgust
ed. Jim Allison had failed him ut
terly, and it was a blow, because
he was young enough, in spite of
his astonishing exploits, to take
himself and his career with great
seriousness.
He had come to America very
earnestly, pledged to study and
learn, to take home all he could
gather from the nation a-wing, and
he had counted confidently on Jim
Allison.
“I wouldn’t think of asking you to
break your rule about never taking
women up,” the American flier had
explained, "under ordinary circum
stances, but in this case/ if you
could possibly make an exception
I’d appreciate it no end. You see,
the fact is, Ardine—and of course
her husband, too awfully decent
chap, Keaton Dana, rather heavy,
perhaps, but a prince”—he added
hastily under the bleak young gaze
—“are very special friends of
mine, and she’s set her heart on
going up for a spin with you.”
“I am sorry,” the yellow-haired
youth said civilly.
“Makes it pretty awkward for me.
I dare say I —well, I strutted a bit
about what pals we are, and I’m
afraid I let Ardine infer that I could
fix it up for her.”
“I am sorry,” Gunnar said again.
"I take no women in my ship.”
He might well have expanded hia
pronouncement to say that he took
no women anywhere. Sisterless,
cousinless, girl-friendless, rigidly
reared by a stern grandmother, he
had pledged her and himself to keep
his mind wholly upon his work until
his career was well established.
The night was clear and calm
with excellent visibility; his hop to
Los Angeles would be without ex
citement.
He came swiftly out of his mus
ings as the nose of the plane
dropped, the whir of the motor in
creased and they leaned toward a
downward pitch. He pulled on the
stick to regain normal position, won
dering what freak of air currents
caused the small disturbance. Ha
was aware of a slight jar. Had he,
perhaps, struck a high-flying night
bird? _ -
THE ZEBULON RECORD
He was immediately in level flight
again, eased off on the joy stick and
began to re-establish the course
&
Incredibly, out *f all reason,
someone was standing behind
him.
which had been briefly abandoned,
but directly he released his pres
sure the nose dropped a second
time.
There was a jar again, more per
ceptible this time, and he turned
his head to look back through his
ship, and found his vision blocked.
Incredibly, out of all reason, some
one was standing behind him.
His mind refused to accept it. The
thing was impossible. It was the
figure of a woman!
Then young Gunnar Thorwald,
Norwegian ace, experienced an an
ger the like of which he had never
known in all his years of living. It
was the sort of berserk rage his
ancestors knew, tricked by a wily
foe, and which they eased with sud
den blood. Jim Allison had made
mockery of his rule. Jim Allison
had flouted him his friend to
please the whim of his light-o’-love;
made a fool of hirrt in the eyes of
the tipsy wasters at a tawdry road
house. His teeth ground together
and his breath came quickly.
The woman lurched forward and
caught at his shoulder to steady
herself, bent closer to speak above
the roar. Their cold cheeks touched.
“Oh, glorious glorious!” she
stammered. “I don’t understand—
Am I here? —flying away in the
night? Am I still pretending”—her
teeth were chattering with cold,
with excitement —“in the Stewed
Prune? It’s so wonderful—so splen
did—”
It was not Ardine Dana, but the
dark, thin girl with the lost and
lonely look he had noticed at the
Henry Dana house, whom he had
seen again, maudlin with drink. But
now her face was white and her
eyes blazed with thrilled rapture,
and she seemed to be transported
with a wild, incredulous joy.
Happy, triumphant over the suc
cess of their trick!
“Keep away from me, drunken
fool!" he said savagely.
There was a stifled wail behind
him but he did not look around. He
busied himself with directions.
Where —granted that he must forego
the pleasure of pitching her out in
mid-air—was the first place he could
land her? Anywhere he could get
his ship down with a semblance of
safety!
Unless he carried her all the way
to Los Angeles—or Glendale, which
was his destination —and tnat was
unthinkable —he must apparently
detour to a place called Fresno.
A stealthy look, presently, showed
him that she had settled herself in
a seat, a blanket wrapped around
her. Her face was pressed against
the window, but she turned and saw
him and started to rise again.
“I must tell you—” she began ur
gently* her voice shrill above the
motor. “You must listen to me! I
wasn’t—l wasn’t— They gave me
something—” She started to stand
up, to come forward again.
He made an imperative gesture.
“Keep back. Do not come here.
Stay where you are.”
She dropped beside the window,
huddling under her blanket, peer
ing out into the quiet sky.
(Continued next week)
ROLESVILLE
Rev. H. O. Baker has for his
guest for the convention in Ra
leigh his brother, Rev. Jeter Ba
ker of Charlotte and Rev. Eugene
Coker.
Mr. and Mrs. V. F. Mitchell and
V. F. Jr., Mr. and Mrs. Garkan
Jackson visited Mr. Jackson’s pa
rents at Clinton Sunday.
The P. T. A. of the Rolesville
school met Monday night. Mrs.
Preston Jones presided. A large
number were present to enjoy the
program given by the tenth grade.
Dodgred Bowling of Burlington
spent the week end with his pa
rents, Mr. and Mrs. J. T. Bowling.
Miss Ruth Daniel of New York
City is visiting friends and rela
tives here and Wake Forest.
Miss Lucille Hicks and Oscar
Perry were married Nov. 12. We
wish them much happiness.
Mrs. Johnnie Keith of Neuse is
visiting her son, Clarence Keith.
Mrs. Wade Young and William
Clark Young, Mrs. Neil Rogers
and Mrs. Graham Jackson visited
Raleigh Monday.
Mr. Robert Lee Edwards attend-
SPECIAL GOODS MUST |
prices onuno G 0! COME! |
All Shoes, Rubber Boots, Etc., at SPECIAL PRICES. +
DRY GOODS MUST GO! £
Prices Will Open Your Eyes +
COME EARLY AND SAVE! |
Suit Cases, Trunks, Hats, Caps, Underwear *
A. G. KEMP - Zebulon, N. C. |
0
| Better See D. D. CHAMBLEE
>< uari^ a geß. if * ny ’
J. M. CHEVROLET COMPANY
Zebulon, North Carolina
FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 18, 1938
ed the S. S. Association meeting
at Franklinton Sunday and re
ported a fine meeting.
Mr. Lonnie Bowling of Raleigh
visited his mother Sunday, Mrs.
J. W. Bowling.
You who were not at church Sun
day and Sunday night missed a
treat. Pastor Baker gave us a mes
sage that caused much thought.
Sunday night he told us how to
get what we want.
Be here Sunday morning at 10
o’clock for S. S.; 11 for preaching;
6:30 B. T. U.; 7:30 preaching.
STATEMENT FOR VENEREAL
DISEASE CLINIC IN ZEBULON
The Venereal Disease Control
CClinic is now open to patients in
the Avon Privett bu lding in Zebu
lon, adjacent to Dr. C. E. Flowers’’
officers.
Dr. Flowers is in charge of the
clinic and will make arrangements
to give treatment to all patients
coming within the meaning of the
clinic services.
NOTICE: No Football Game
With Fuquay Friday