Globe-Gazette from Mason City, Iowa on July 15, 1948 · Page 8
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Globe-Gazette from Mason City, Iowa · Page 8

Mason City, Iowa
Issue Date:
Thursday, July 15, 1948
Page 8
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July 14, 1948 City QUfc«-a««tt«. IUMH Cttr. U. '00e.Kttlh BY HAMILTON f ' CHAPTER 37 JETHRO Emmons was president of the Branfield Trust company. His office was comfortably old-fashioned although the bank itself was a modern building with the proper complement of bronze grillwork and marble. "Glad to see you," he greeted Andrew the following morning. "What can I do for you?" "I'd like to borrow some money," Andrew said, having no idea of how to go about it. Mr. Emmons' eyebrows went up to meet his thinning hair. "Well," he said, half humorously, as Andrew paused, and showed no signs of going on, "I'd have to know a little more than that before I could lend it to you." Andrew flushed. "Of course," he said quickly. "I was just wondering how to present the idea to you." He tooki a deep breath. "Do you know that development that Louis Baron is putting up near the edge o'f town?" "Yes?" It was half a question, but it was all that Andrew needed. He launched into his talk, his eyes growing eager as he spoke, and his body hunched forward a little in his chair. Jethro Emmons let him talk. He sat quietly, one hand tapping occasionally on the blotter with a pencil; his shrewd eyes never left Andrew's face. When there was a pause at last he only said, "But why do you want to borrow money for this, Mr. Paulson? You have quite a bit here on deposit— I don't know exactly how much, but enough to—" "Not nearly enough," Andrew said at once. "Enough to buy the land and put up 1 house, or possibly 2—yes. But I have a whole- development in mind—at least 20 houses. I wouldn't know the exact number until I'd had the place surveyed, and could plan where they would stand to best advantage. . . . There's a wonderful view from thei-e." "There is, but I imagine the people who bought those houses would demand more than a view," the banker said with a touch of dryness. "A good tight little house, as you yourself specified a moment ago, would be their first thought; also one which was not too expensive." "Naturally, but the attractiveness of the location is important, too, particularly if you look on a house as more than a shelter— a.s an investment for the future." The banker nodded, an appreciative twinkle appeared briefly in his eyes. "To come back to your own funds, Mr. Paulson. You could build one house, let us say •—and, %vith the housing situation as it is—you could unddubtedly sell it before it was finished. That \vould give you enough to continue. . . ." "No," Andrew shook his head, "I would build one house first, of course. That is, I'd rush one of them through as fast as I could for the sales possibilities, but I would want to let my contracts on the basis of the whole development, to save money. And I couldn't do that on my own funds. Besides," he added, as an afterthought, "I am thinking of buying an old farm out toward Lisbon and remodeling it. I think it would sell easily, and I have half spoken for it." The banker nodded again. "You undoubtedly have a knack for that sort of thing. Your own house—the one you sold to Mr. Sayre—has been commented on very highly. And, of course, from the financial point of view, you did a remarkable piece of business there." As it turned out, it was his job on the Wheeler house which finally sold his idea. Emmons smiled at his preliminary sketches and floor plans, glanced at his lists of figures with a practiced eye, and eventually agreed to lend him the money. Not the whole sum he wanted, but enough to take the option on the land, with an outright purchase for enough land for one house. And there would also be enough money forthcoming to finance the erection of 'that one house. The agreement was that if this much went through satisfactorily, the bank would finance the whole development, and he could go ahead on a large scale. Andrew was not satisfied. He realized that this would throw his whole project behind for several months, but there was no way to argue Emmons out of it. He had to be content with this much of a triumph. He spent the rest of the day in getting Eph's consent to sell him a quarter acre, and give him an option on the remaining two and three quarters. "What on earth are you doing, Andy?" his landlady inquired at supper that night. "I declare, I never know where you are. You run around here as if your legs had springs in 'em. . . . And Joan called up, and—" "Joan!" Andrew looked up. "What did she want?" "Well, I'm trying to tell you," Emma Potts said with assumer patience. "She said to tell you the Woodfords are having a shindig over to their house tonight for some house guests they have, and you're invited. Mrs. Woodford had already called her, and asked her to pass on the word to save time, it being sort of spontaneous and spur-of-the-moment. So I said I'd tell you. . . . Oh, yes, if you go, you're to call for Joan and her ma." Andrew made a leap for the phone. Then he swallowed the rest of his meal in record time. He dashed upstairs for a shower and a change of clothing, and was down again before Mrs. Potts and Gloria had the dishes done. "Oh, Andy, don't you look nice!" Gloria breathed, admiring him. "Ellery says you were in to see his uncle today. He said he guessed you WPTP trying to find out how to invest all your money." Andrew grinned. "It was the other way around. I was trying to persuade the bank to invest its money—in me!" "Why, whatever do you mean?" Mrs. Potts demanded, but he was already half out of the door. "Tell you later!" he called, and was gone. Joan looked unusually lovely tonight, in a sheer aqua crepe. Her dark hair shone, and her eyes were bright with excitement. She greeted Andrew as if their last meeting had never occurred, with no hint of its disastrous ending. "Mrs. W.'s receptions are always something weird and wonderful," she told Andrew as he drove the few blocks to the imposing Victorian structure which housed the Woodfords. "She goes in for 'unusual' people you know, and sometimes has a fascinating assortment of houseguests." They certainly were a mixture, Andrew had to admit, after meeting them. There was a Portuguese inventor, swarthy and sullen looking, with a monosyllabic method of speech; a former star of musical comedy, now enjoying 50 more pounds than in her heyday, and trailing her fourth husband; an oil company executive, recently retired, and his wife, both of whom looked acutely uncomfortable; and a starved looking pair who were simply introduced as "marvelous psychics." To Andrew's discomfiture, Joan was claimed at once by a group of young men whom he had not previously met. Two of them, he discovered, were summer people and had not seen her since they had entered the armed forces several years before. ^They were enjoying brief vacations with their elders early in the season. The other man was a Branfielder, and personable enough, but the explanation that he was a former school friend, and she had "known him since we were children" left him feeling strangely upset. At that moment he was approached by Mr. Woodford himself, who had the oil executive in tow. He beckoned to his young friend, and when Andrew came up, said, "Come along with us, Paulson. We're going up to my bailiwick where there's something a little stronger than this punch, and not so much racket." Andrew went willingly. Huntley Woodford's p 1 a c e of refuge was a small tower room on the third floor. "I hope my heart never gives out," he panted, as they reached it. "Or my legs, either. Because if I didn't have a place of my own, I'd—Well, here we are!" Andrew could not help but remember Mrs. W.'s description "Like an abandoned squirrel's nest," she had called it, and the phrase was definitely' apt. Old magazines, half-opened books, papers of all descriptions littered She floor and the 2 tables. On one small cleared place stood a bottle and several glasses. "I thought I might find a few congenial souls," Mr. Woodford said with a mis- chievious twinkle, as he poured their drinks, "and I'm safe enough in leaving these out — she never comes up here." They all knew who "she" was. "Now," he sat in the old Morris chair which was worn to the shape of his thin body, and stretched his legs luxuriously, "here's to life, liberty, and the pursuit of vitamins!" (To Be Continued) Pieces of salt have been reported found in an Egyptian tomb dating from about 2400 B. C. NOAH MUMSKUU. BOARD AND ROOM DAILY CROSSWORD DOWN 1. A soup vessel 2. Constellation 3. A footway 4. Driving ice and rain 5. Evening sun god (Egypt.) 6. Man's name 7. The afore- said'thing 8. To leave, as property, with conditions ACROSS 54. Lease [l. Lights out! (Mil.) 5. The rise and fall of waters '9. River (Russ.) 10. Ireland (poet.) 11. Packing box 12. Dull finish 14. Music note 15. Garment border 17. Dancer's cymbals 18. Roman money 20. Disturbance 23.Insect j25. River (Scot.) [26. Leftside (abbr.) [27. Peck J29-Loose, hanging point 81. Close to 33. Support 35. Seizes 38. Lifelike represents* tlon [41. Woodsman's shoe 42. Open (poet.) 43. Pig pen 45. Sun god 146. Kind of headdress 49. A symbol 61. Plexus 1 B2. Pieces out $3. Strike, as with the band 11. Steep. rugged rock 13. Old measures of length 16. Wet earth 19. Unhappy 21. Primary color 22. Humble 24. High 28. Winged insect 30. Breach 31. Kind of bomb 32. Animals of C. Americfa 34. Fuel 36. Merest 37. Scrutinize Yesterday'^ Aniwer/ 39. Species of pepper 40.Speak 44. Couple 47. Greek letterlt 48. Twilled fabric 50. Know (Scot) A Cryptogram Quotation BZXLP UPLPK QPKBMPQJW TFPXKP TPWTFP —KPUPAX. Yesterday's Cryptoquote: I HATE THE UNCULTIVATED CROWD AND KEEP THEM AT A DISTANCE—HORACE. JZP OAGWOOQ THAT LOVELY DRESS I TOLD YOU WAS SOLD, AND I DIDN'T GET IT STOP WAGGING YOUR TAIL—IT'S NOTHING TO BE SO HAPPY ABOUT DA.ISX HELP ME FIND MY COLLAR BUTTON ---IT ROLLtP UNDER THE DRESSER I'M UNEASY- 1 SHOULDN'T HANE LET APRIL CLIMB UP THERE.' QUIET, DARLINGS >NOULDM»T HURT YOU FOR WORLD.' GOLLY—THEY OUGHTS KNOCK OFF A> LITTLE \F THEY HAVE HOLES IN THEWV / HOR/WCE, I'LL NEED EIGHTEEN! POLLfcRS FOR THE PWK OF SHOES I WANT— THEY'RE AWFULLY DOLLARS?? } CUTE,WITH OPEN WHAT KIND OF SHOES THEY OPEN TOES, HUH ? THAT'S A SAVING ON LEATHER, ISNT rr •? /MOAH=* WOULO -<ba *MAU SHOOT A ^ tFAW APJMY LOOKEC* up SAW A HUNGeV ROOSTER, WOUL.P HE posrcAtao vousa AJOTIOMS TO i OF AlOW BOOK5, MAGMINE5, t ' V r 116FD - JOHN!--1T'5 KIND n P PRKTI6?OF 1 OF YOU-. -BUT "V OFFICE TO GET MAKES By GENE AHERN MAKE YOUP YORK ONE, AUNT MARY! 50 HELPLESS! YOU THREE. REDCAPS1 WHW A DISMAL WEEKcT •••SOLD A\Y SHARE OF v THE WILDCAT WELL, THEN IT HIT A HUGE FLOW OF NATURAL GAS---AND NOW THIS •••• --•DRAT-, ' - SPUT-T A\Y WATERMELON/ IT'S BEEN CUT FRO/A THE VINE AND STOLEN./ PAF-F-BLB-B -IT WAS JUST ABOUT RIPE EN'OUGH FORME TO ENJOY ITS ^ SUCCULENCE/- MUST BE A GOOD BOOK HE CA.NT SEEM TO PUT IT BAD DOG!! ...COME BACK OH, JUNIOR! LOOK WHAT YOU YE DONE!! EIGHBORHOOD KIDS PUT THE SNATCH SCOTT'S SCRAP BOOK By R. J. SCOTT WHAT? NOT SELL IT? . IFL LET IT GO, I WOULDN'T HAVE. SONNY. I'LL 6UY THIS BOTTLE OF-ER-EUXIRJ CAN'T AFFORD WH ATS YOUR PRICE? LTD SELL ANY OF THIS. A°J(M JIN "BOTTLE! THE RAREST OF ALL? WORTH- I'D HATE TO SAY HOW MUCHf THIS YOUNGSTER- HE DOESN'T KNOW.* RECEM-fl-Y DISCOVERED MAMMAL. HAS A SHREDDED COLLAR ort EA.CH HORH Coff. <?<t. King tatam tipJifnc. \ac., WotU ri s hM DRAT/I'M R&4DVTO PUT OW THE FEED- BAG-/ \ \ BUT THOSE GUYS WOULD RATHER FIGHT THAW is SMt> SLEEP •WOULD MADE. EVE COMPLETE DRESS, CAWAL IS 2.7 MILES FARTHER. -THE AfLAN-TIC. EKfRAWCE.- MODEST MAIDENS Trademark RegiUered U. S. F*tenl Offico I UTTECLY KNEW T//THATLLBE FA"£-' SOMETHING TERRIBLY ROMANTIC IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME NIGHT." I CAN SIMPLY FEEL IT-f ITS IN THE AIC/ I'VE SEEN OGE™ •PLY*' DEFINITELY HE'S BUT TO DIE FOB'— DEEPLY* THIS USTD- GETHEK AGAIN ! COME ON, IOCS * WE'BE GOING TO A BARBECUE our AT A PANCH KNOW LOVEfYOU MET HIM ALTITUDE THAT MAKES YOUC. HEAPT BEAT = /YEAH/ IS IT SIMILAK TO SO OLB? YOUNG COWWSSIONHR 1 MY ONE OF RITZ ANPUR POLICE ^-Y PLANE AIR WOULP LIKE TO REVIEW HIS FORCE,EHi* A lM 601NSTO U££ HIM F<3R BAIT-1 CATCH A "REAL BlS ONE / //

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