The Mason City Globe-Gazette from Mason City, Iowa on May 11, 1934 · Page 13
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The Mason City Globe-Gazette from Mason City, Iowa · Page 13

Mason City, Iowa
Issue Date:
Friday, May 11, 1934
Page 13
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FRIDAY, MAY 11, 1934 MASON CITY GLOBE-GAZETTE THE OLD HOME TOWN By STANLEY SCAPADE ITHUR SHUMWAY BEAD THIS FIRST: Sally Gwymie Is headed south from Chicago to take a job as secretary to » Klordla millionaire, John Kemble Froutor, at Dny- tona Beach. She upends her flirt night on the train. The next day she makes friends «1th a yoonic man who Is Blttlnc opposite. He IB also Florida bound. She learns his name, Ted Chandler, and they become friends. At Atlanta, Ted buys a newspaper and reads the. startling news that 1'roctor has been found dead, apparently a suicide. Sally's heart sinks. Sally worries but continues the trip. Meanwhile Ted becotnn very fond of her. At Daytona Beacli she leaves him to o to the Proctor estate, agreeing to keep In touch with Ted, who thinks the death of old Proctor mysterious. Fred Proctor, suave and polished, greets Sally, and assures her she Is to stay on anyway. (NOW GO ON WITH THE StORi) CHAPTER 5. The little Negro maid showed Bally to a large, pleasant room on the second floor directly overlooking the ocean. The rhythmic sound of the surf came in continually through the open Spanish windows. The view was of endless blue-green miles of ocean. A strong breeze whipped the curtains. Sally loved the house. While from the outside it had looked large, but rambling and low, it seemed now to be a tremendously spacious place, a castle almost. It couldn't really be old, yet it seemed to have weathered slow centuries there by the sea. All the old-fashioned hardware seemed to be hand-wrought and pocked and stained with age. Worm-holes coursed through the cypress beams and doors, and the walls had been hand stippled, it appeared, hundreds of years ago when the Spanish flag flapped in the salt breeze over old Fort Marion at St. Augustine. Sally's mind was full of questions when she went down the stairs, a ijay young figure in her white sport dress with a blue ribbon about her yellow hair. Fred Proctor was waiting for her in the library. He had changed the tennis sweater for a dark brown flannel sport coat and he made a striking picture, his blue-black hair and deeply tanned face outlined against the old ivory background of the antiqued wall. "Now you look quite cool and summery Miss Gwynne," he said, surveying her studiously with those deep-set black eyes of his. His voice was deep, soft and reassuring, but there was an intensity in his none too subtle inspection that made the girl uncomfortable. "I've had lunch set on the reSr balcony," he said, leading Sally out the back of the library to a stone- paved ledge, fenced with old wrought iron and looking down upon the sloping dune that flowed into the smooth beach below. The ocean breeze swept across the cheerful little table and sent soft, insistent fingers through Sally's hair. As she gat down, she was conscious of Fred Proctor's black eyes. She felt they were studying the firm young contours of her slender body which the pressure of the breeze brought into soft relief. But the man was as polite as the Spanish grandee he resembled. Take off that sport 'coat, those white trousers and clothe him in ruffles and lace and silken breeches, add a li' le tuft of hair to his chin and he might easily be one of the early overlords of Florida. A bland little brown man in white came and went with dishes as silently as a wraith as they ate and talked. "I know you must be upset," Fred Proctor said, "but I assure you that you needn't be. My late uncle was very pleased with your letter, Miss Gwynne. He selected it from a pile nearly a foot high. You'd be surprised how many girls applied for the position. But he didn't bother to look any further when he had read yours. He pushed the rest of them Into the basket and called me over to listen to yours. It was very nicely done. Miss Gwynne, allow me to say. I quite agreed with him on his choice--" He smiled and subtly his eyes followed the curve of her throat downward, downward, then upward again. "·--And I agree now, more than ever." "Thank you," Sally mumbled, self- consciously. "It would be a shame," he continued, "to have brought you all the way down here for nothing. And so I'm going to ask you if you don't care to remain in the capacity for which you were engaged. I shall stay on here, you know, as I always have, for quite some time at least, and shall look after my uncle's interests. You have no idea, Miss Gwynne, what a busy and versatile man he was." "I've often heard--" she began. "But really you have no idea," he insisted. "No one suspects how many activities he had," Fred Proctor said with a slight, reminiscent smile. "There's no end of work that can well be done here." "First of all there are the funeral arrangements. I wish you could see the stack of correspondence. Telegrams have flooded in here from all over the world." "Mr. Proctor was well known, i know," Sally said. "Amazingly. That is, his reputation was well and widely known. Few people really knew my uncle, even his closest associates in business and in politics. He was a hard man, Miss Gwynne. "So, Miss Gwynne, I'm going to ask you if you don't care to accept the same position at the same salary--that is, of course, to start," he added quickly with a shrewd smile. In one-way, Sally was so relieved that she almost blurted a grateful "Yes!" without further consideration, but she was uneasy. She remembered the questions that had been troubling her mind. Why had John Kemble Proctor brought her all the way from Chicago instead of engaging a local girl? Why had he, who had everything to live for, it seemed, shot himself to death in this splendid but vaguely eerie old house by the sea? And she remembered the way Fred Proctor, this severe, dynamic handsome Fred Proctor, had looked at her body. She wanted to pause, to say that she would think it over, that she was very grateful but hadn't made up her mind, yet she knew in an instant that it wouldn't be a wise reply. She realized, much more quickly than she could speak, that what she really wanted was to ask the advice of Ted Chandler. Fred Proctor spoke again. "Of course, I know that you're tired and confused and haven't really decided how you like the place yet," he said. "But I'm sure you will. Within 24 hours you'll never want to leave Florida. It gets into your blood, you know. Suppose you merely consider yourself my guest, Miss Gwynne, and, and then in a day or so let me know definitely. Meanwhile, I shall consider your salary as in operation since you left Chicago and if you will be so kind as to help with the matters now at hand, I'll greatly appreciate it." Sally drew a deep breath of relief. "That's splendid of you, Mr. Proctor," she said. "I'm tired and confused, but I shall be delighted to have a chance to become used to everything. It's all so new, you see, and you may be sure I'll take care of the correspondence. I'll begin immediately this afternoon." "That won't be necessary, Miss Gynne. I don't want you to think you have to do that. I'm no Simon Legree, you know." He smiled dis- anningly, a really friendly, whole- m. NEED MONEY? PINE WILL LOAN YOU On furniture, auto9 ( personal property or anything of value to persons who have steady employment LOANS UP TO 5S05 Fay bac.U In monthly Installments LOANS MADE SAME DAV OF APPLICATION C. L. Pine Loan Company Of Mason City Second Floor Weir Bldg. Phone 224 ·SvAeVs ^ L.VTTUS YOU CAV4 -SEE. ^SOW, iFVje.OO»3tt l-ET IT, JUST IT, JUST BE^T OVA KAAKIMGVOO /XsiO LET HER Let Come What May 5-" Copyright, 1934, by Central Press Assodntlon, Inc. VUP- m BfSCK HtRE. (\ft\N-OLUETOLO tt OF L061N VOUR MONEV. P.NO COUUJN'T ?PH THE. ON THE. NEVJ STORe AH t CHOO/ High Pressure Pete Asked for It Frank Merriwell at Yale YOU! wneee ? IF VJE LOSE . *iQO ^^^ "^^ ^' *»*i^S The Ninth Inning By BurtL. Standish TWATS NOW.WWIT HAVE OXE Of- THESE. I X3URB SO . f AND so pov-rre. ! \ r LWfV'.CAMX CARRY BUNDLES ft* UKE.YOOTOSAY ASTMtrA fWPERMlttTS THE CAR UNK POR fMaAU.THe.TTMe! A Willing Worker Copyright, 1934, by Central Press Association, Inc.' «-_;i A GUI GONNA GET A OANcfc VJITH ETTA THE WAN PHIL HANGS ON TO HEB. - I'M DlSSUVTED . HE.S Gar Aww WITH rr I.ONGENOUSH ne ear A PuAN THAT5 HWJTED E^ECTVOHEISE-- ICANTFIMO AMI BOO! DANCE MUST BE ABOUT QtS.K. rye. ©sr to TAKE r\ UOOK: ACO DEtECTNE-- AND I'VE TQUND THIS- POLICE WHISTLE IN HIS Poocer ' The Old Army Game By Paul Robinson some smile that renewed Sally's confidence. "I shouldn't mind, Mr. Proctor," she replied. "No. You mustn't think of it. After lunch now I want you to rest. Take a nap or read a little while, and then a little later get into your bathing suit and I'll make you acquainted with Daytona's surf. Did you ever bathe in the ocean?" "No, I never have. I suppose I'm a dreadfully provincial sort of person, but I never saw the ocean before today and never had any idea how grand it was." They rose from the table. Sally looked out over the unbelievably beautiful ocean sparkling in the mid-day sun. Perhaps the eye could see no more than it could on Lake Michigan, perhaps the feeling was a trick of the imagination, yet whatever it was, Sally was sure she had never seen anything that looked so vast and powerful. After lunch she lay down on the bed in her room and finished her magazine story. While she lay reading, the telephone in her room tinkled. She answered it. "Sally?" It was Ted! "Yes, Ted." "What's the dope?" "I've been asked to stay on." "That's fine--but don't do it," he added crisply. "Why not, Ted?" "When can I see you?" "This evening, I suppose. I'll make an excuse to go over to town. What's the matter?" she asked anxiously. "I can't tell you on the phone," he said, lowering his voice. "You never know. Meet me at 7:30 in the park by Casino Burgoyne. You'll find it. Will you? (TO BE CONTINUED! THE TUTTS -By YOUNG DA.D STUBBY SUP CAME IN AND THOUGHT DAD HAD MET wifrt AM ACCIDENT AMjx BECOME SUDDENP/ DEFORMB.P/, BRICK BRADFORD IM THE TIT? BENEATH THE SEA By William Ritt and Clarence Gray HAIL, CAPTAIM OF THE GUARD.' WE BRING LOOT TO PLkCE. IM THE WHITE MAW'S BIRD -- BEYOMD THOSE ROCKS IM A CLEARIMG' . 1 THAT WAS CLOSE.- IF HASTA AMD TAME HAD GUESSED WHOM WE. WERE -- LOOK.' HERE WE ARE AT TOE 6R.EAT GATES.' WHERE 16 IT ? j -THERE'S THE PLANE, MAWCO BUT IT'S GUARDED.' U1ESE ROCKS ARE V, MAN KJLLERS-' BUT, '-' WE'VE GOT TO MAKE IT.

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