The Mason City Globe-Gazette from Mason City, Iowa on July 25, 1935 · Page 17
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The Mason City Globe-Gazette from Mason City, Iowa · Page 17

Mason City, Iowa
Issue Date:
Thursday, July 25, 1935
Page 17
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MASON CITY GLOBE-GAZETTE, JULY 25 mm 1935 [THEOLD HOME TOWN By STANLEY^ A PROMINENT CITIZEN WAS BADLY SOAKEP LAST AJISHTWHEN L.OCAI. JOKER, TO KEEP TIME WITH -me MUSIC. I CHAPTER 17. The admiral was a kindly looking gentleman with blue, seaspent eyes and the deeply lined face of a benign old setter. He had been commandant of midshipmen during Val's academy days and when the young officer vigorously pumped his arm up and down and assured him what a pleasure it was going to be to serve under him here, the senior stared with a quizzical quirk in one bushy eyebrow. Mrs. Pomfret--one of an old and famous American family--was a dumpy lady with faded red hair and small bright eyes. She looked, Val thought, like a delightfully pugnacious little old sailor disguised in a velvet frock. When he was presented to her he said, "Mrs. Pomfret, the messenger boy has the honor to report. If ever you ne.ed errands run, send for assistant communications. Except," he favored her with his most ingratiating smile, "don't ask me to furnish rny own bicycle." She held his hand for a moment and studied him with Keen, shoe- button eyes. "Young man." she finally said, "I knew your father well. And so I am not going to take you at your own valuation just yet." Now what had she meant by that, he wondered. As he moved on into the drawing room he noted that Lia had fallen behind with Brad. Sue at his elbow hissed, "Did you see the admiral give Jack Field the fish-eye because Jack is feeling his cocktails a bit? Oh, this navy crowd makes rne sick! Jack could buy and sell every one in the place if he liked." "But what would he do with an admiral after he'd bought him, sweetheart?" Val asked absently and gazed about him at the pleasant homeliness of book-filled shelves, softly faded brocades, flowers from the garden, and--souvenirs of the Pomfret's tours of foreign duty--many signed photographs of ladies with court trains and gentlemen in brilliant uniforms with numberless decorations. All about him he heard the modulated voices of nice looking people who, Sue informed him, were the yard officers and their families, officers from the various ships here under repair, and a few civilians from Bremerton and Seattle. Two men he had previously known stopped to greet him Cromwell, now a junior captain, and Lieutenant Commander Linbury, the district communications officer and Val's new boss. After a moment's conversation with each of these officers, the younger man was conscious of a knowing expression that dawned in their eyes. Linbury even said, "The last time we met you were celebrating in the American club bar in Shanghai, Preston. Still In training; I see." His senior moved away and Val grinned wryly to reflect that his new boss thought him tight. For that matter, so had the admiral. Well, despite the odorous bourbon, it took more than two drinks to turn that trick. But wasn't it just his luck to make his first appearance at a cold-sober party with a gang who couldn't hold its liquor and with the navy. I have' an uncle trying to focus his eyes on a critical lady to whom he had just been presented and across whose frock he had already spilled half his cup of tea. From close at hand came Mona Browne's shrill giggle and her sister's high-pitched voice saying, "I feel as if I sort of belong was obvious about it? He turned to regard Field who stood beside him who was a. major in some war or other." As he turned a bored shoulder toward this group he caught sight of Lia who was poised on the first stair landing in the entrance hall. A hand on one slim hip pushed back her coat to reveal a trim frock of lipstick red. Her little face was tipped up like a creamy poppy to the sun, and she was in animated conversation with a tall stranger whose back was toward Val. When the man shifted his position Val was curious enough to ask Sue his name. Brad's wife stared over her shoulder in the direction he indicated. After a moment, she uttered a strange, mirthless laugh. "Trust Lia to manage that as quickly as possible," she murmured. "That, Val dear, is Maurice Cordray." So this wa.t Brad's .boss, Cordray! A. rather magnificent person witfl coin yellow hair and--good Lord-- a curly golden beard! The man was faultlessly tailored and groomed but the whiskers shouted for coat-ot-mail and a tin helmet with dinky wings on either side. "Don't kid me, Beautiful," Val said to Sue. "That's a German boy named Siegfried. Wnat'Il you bet he doesn't burst into a horn call before the party is over." "Don't ue rantastic," Sue frowned. "His father was a Belgian, his mother a Swede, but he was born here in Bremerton. He's lived abroad a lot until his father's death two years ago. He is very rich, Val, with important holdings in this northwest country. But he likes best to work in his studio where he fashions all manner of lovely hand-wrought stuff--jewelry, puppets, masks--things like that." "Don't tell me he plays a flute when I expected a trumpet." His eyes danced with laughter. "Don't ever doubt that Maurice Cordray is a trumpet man." Sue's langorous voice warmed. "He is an expert boxer, a businessman and an artist. His passion is to create beautiful, unusual things. But he makes his hobbies pay just as he makes his investments yield. Brad says his special talent in business affairs lies in his ability to select his executives, then let them do the work. And the proof of his success is that he has greatly increased the fortune his father passed on to him." "I suppose he plays about ^ with the yard crowd." She looked away. "Y-e-s, he is beginning to come to the yard again --" she broke off abruptly. Her manner aroused his curiosity. "What stopped him?" "Oh, there was a silly misunderstanding. That idiot Tony Eastman made a spectacle of himself because Cordray was merely pleasant to his wife. Truly, Val, it was the greatest injustice because Cordray is charming to all the girls and was only being friendly. I'll wa-ger the whole navy set was disgusted with Tony for driving this man away, for without him this is the dullest place imaginable. How they must thank their lucky stars that little imbecile Eastman has gone to sea duty and Cordray is giving his lovely parties and coming to the yard again." Sue turned away to speak to Mrs. Field, and Val stood idly watching Lia and her new acquaintance. For some time he had been half-conscious of music coming from the hidden angle of the adjoining room and now a girl's soft contralto began to sing a well remembered air. Suddenly he stiffened. That song--an old poem of Stevenson's--was as well known to him as his own name. Listening intently, only his eyes moved. There was an odd shiver along his spine, his arms tingled, but he seemed powerless to stir. "Dark brown is the river, golden is the sand. It flows along forever with trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, castles on the foam, Boats of mine a-boating, when will you come home " Only one person could sing it like that. Suddenly, heedless of the crowd, he pressed toward the music room. When he finally reached the dorway he saw that he was right. It was Jan. Oh Jan, God blesE you, honey! He had known just how she'd be poised there by the piano, clear-eyed and young, her hands clasped behind her, chin lifted, the thick golden waves of hair brushed back carelessly to disclose the lovely line of her forehead. That pale green frock with her yellow hair SO VOO Tv-l\KI* J f I'M. TvA^-UE \T COMES I SODDY TOWMEO * JUST J?»V. THE TTOCK \ AMOBE.OPF 1 . By Les Forgrave /- NOW) uTeM -- I ~fW£- UHOLE. MOS OF WOO ALONE.. ' ' -We. I 5QUfNP, owe? or High Pressure Pete \ oNNr UET s'ou GO -OUT -THE. U6HT$ 0EPCV \T VOHKTV.U oo? By George Swan BOTH TCKPOOOeS ] SUR.E HIM. AN' THE i9M'T To , \AJE\JE QoT TO } LET'S GET AUJ/W GET OUT OF HERE / FIZOM HR.E AT LE/VST SOMEHOW. /^xA, A\V A.NKLES A.FI-S- COUO WE DIDN'T FIMP OME, D\P STOP SER. WORR.VIW AM' LES GET (5oiw,-.. vje'ME GOTTA. SEE MIME Too.. THEd-E'S MR 9u.o\NiAJGr A.LOMG THE -- THAT AA.E.AN'5- THECE.'S Chip Collins' Adven- PROMISE COMUW AMD TREACHEROUS LV GET AUJAV FROM CHIP By Stark Wilhelm BASHES) OFF V/////S, 'ODE TO A. FAIR LADY," ^ MOT^ER ( X GUESS ="DOESMT ,PAPA AVloTUER. MIGHT '. Muggs McGinnis *HE ALWAYS I To His UHCU-£ ·DuUlMY EVER WRITE AMVTH1M UKE. TUKT? ByWally Bishop Copyright, 1935, by Central Press Association, In SHHH-"THE PLACE 15 RIGGED UPAS A PfZOADCASriNS STATION - LOOK: SOME BOOT'S OPEr2ATlNCT If NOW -- OLD JOINT- WMATS THAT FUNNM NOISE ? GEt SACK - I'M GONNA CRASH THE DOOR ONE-TWO- SEE WHAT KIND OF A MU63 WENE LANDED I GOT HIM QUICK, ETTA- TMAT FLASH LKSHf OM-- By Paul Robinson made her look like a jonquil in spring. "On goes the river and out past the mill, Away down the valley, away down the hill " That funny kid song! He had played it for her a thousand times while they chanted it together-"Away down the river, a hundred miles or more Other little children shall bring my boats ashore. Shall bring my----" (TO BE CONTINUED) Leave for West. LUVERNE--Mr. and Mrs. Frank Amspoker of West Point, Minn., formerly of this place, are taking an extended auto trip through the west. They were accompanied by their son, Wilbur, and wife of Humboldt. They will visit their daughter, Myrtle, in Oregon, and relatives in Colorado and spend some time at the Yellowstone national park. USE YOUR CREDIT To Buy Your D I A M O N D Our Diamond line is very complete and is made up of the finest goods on the market. SELECT IT NOW! PAY AT YOUR CONVENIENCE R G O O D B R O S . 215 NORTH FEDERAL AVE. THE TUTTS By YOUNG CLA^A BUD P AD AteM PAD £e~£r AHEM? or AV*A S Cepyn^t. 19S5, fry 1-2$'_ BRICK BRADFORD By William Ritt Clarence Gra? THERE, FRIEND-IN THE SHELTER OF THAT BERG WE MAKE CAMP / ' M DEAD TIRED BUT I WON'T QUIT UNTIL -TOWARD THE END OF A WEARY DAY THAT WAS A GOOO MEAL-WHEW' I'M TIRED-I'D BETTER CURL UP SLEEPING FURS LIKE THE REST OUT OF THE NIGHT EVIL EYES PEER AT THEM- VIKINGS/ THE'WARRIORS OF THE WINGED DEATH/"

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