Verhovayak Lapja, 1940. július-december (23. évfolyam, 27-52. szám)
1940-12-12 / 50. szám
Wk December 12, 1940 .Verhovayak Lapja Page S The Star Reporter By STEPHEN J. ROTZ Branch 430 Homestead, Pa. swungTommy Richards lithely along Millvale’s Main Street. His usually smooth forehead beneath the turned-down brim of his hat was now creased in a frown; his jaw tilted at a pugnacious angle. And no wonder that Tommy was angry. The editor-in-chief had sent him —the best reporter, in Tommy’s own opinion—just to interview a silly young heiress visiting friends in this hick town. Hoping to be sent out to cover the big murder trial which was even then going on back in the city, Tommy’s ego had been crushed by this backwoods assignment. Well, it wasn’t fair; and he’d tell the chief, too, when he got back. Just now he was on his way to the one hotel that the town had to boast of. He had asked the station agent for directions and since he had just arrived and it was late afternoon, he decided to wait until the next day, obtain the desired interview and then beat it back to the city. Tommy was so absorbed in his thoughts of what he would say and do upon his return that he failed to see the young woman, accompanied by a dog on a leash, coming towards him. Neither did the girl see Tommy for the simple reason that she was very much interested in a book which she was holding before her face. The dog, a snow-white Spitz, pranced near the edge of the walk whereas his mistress hugged the wall of a building. Naturally, as the two parties rapidly neared, the logical thing occurred. The leash tangled up in Tommy’s legs, sending him sprawling. His handbag flew from his right hand, slithered along the walk, spilling its contents in the gutter. For a moment he was too dazed and surprised to get up. But the outburst of peal ing laughter, which was not drowned out by the furious barking of the excited dog, caused him to jump up quickly with a withering retort on his lips. When his eyes fell on the appealing slim young thing before him he was struck dumb. Then, realizing the ludicrousness of the scene, he laughed too. As he stood grinning at her, the girl stopped and exclaimed: ‘T do hope you’ll forgive me! I really didn’t mean to laugh at you—but you did look so funny stretched out on the sidewalk.” She resumed her giggling. Tommy tried to glare at her. Again, despite himself, his features relaxed into a tantalizing grin. “Well,” he began, “It didn’t feel any too comfortable, three-point anding on that cement walk.” He stooped to recover the light gray hat which had fallen from his head. He glanced ruefully at the headpiece, and proceeded to wipe the dust off with a handkerchief. The girl, meanwhile, had replaced the scattered contents of Tommy’s bag. When she was finished, she stood up and surveyed the young man critically. She was apparently pleased with what she saw for a smile tugged at the corners of her attractive mouth. Tommy brushed himself off, picked up the bag with a word of thanks, and gazed steadily at the impudently smiling girl. “You know, a fortune teller once told me that when I did meet the girl of my dreams, I was going to fall hard for her. But she certainly didn’t warn me that I was going to land on concrete!” He went on in the same light vein. “I hope you’re satisfied now that you have trampled in the dust the figure of one Thomas Richards, the star reporter of the Daily Press.” The girl’s delicately arched eyebrows raised slightly at the word “reporter”; but she replied, oh, so sweetly: “It was as much your fault as mine. If you would have kept your eyes open, you wouldn’t have tripped.” Ant! again Tommy heard her bubbling laughter. “I was—” He scowled as he broke off. The assignment which had been driven from his mind by the events of the past few minutes came back with a rush. Forgetting the girl momentarily, Tommy glowered blackly. The girl studied him intently from under lowered lids. “What’s wrong?” she asked him. “You look as though you’d like to commit mayhem—or do you always look like that? If you’re thinking of twisting someone’s neck, I’d better be on my way.” “That just about sums it up,” he said absently. “Oh, no—not yours,” he added hastily. “I was thinking of my chief. He sent me—” He interrupted himself to ask her to walk with him to his hotel on the pretext that he didn’t know its location. She decided to show him. Strolling down the street, they presented a pleasant picture; she with her small, attractively proportioned body and her fresh vivacity and the tall, handsome young man at her side. “Did you know that Nancy Lenore, the oil heiress, picked as the number one glamour-plus girl of the season, is visiting friends here in Millvale?” He went on rapidly: “Yes, I suppose you do. It’s probably the most important thing that ever happened in this onehorse town.” “Why, yes. I did hear that she was visiting with the Fultons.” She smiled, then prompted him: “But go on with your story.” Tommy kept silent while he filled his pipe. After applying a light and puffing contemplatively, he went on, Here’s how it is: The chief sent me up here to interview her. And the reason I’m burning is because wanted a crack at the sensational murder trial going on at the city. And I get an assignment to interview a slinky-eyed dame who’s just lucky enough to be lousy with money,” he groaned. “I don’t know why the chief didn’t send some cub reporter on this job.” “I wouldn’t feel too badly about it if I were you,” she told him. “This may turn out to be a pleasanter assignment that you expect. She paused. “You may even be glad they didn’t send someone else in your place.” “Is that so,” returned the discomfited young man “This will probably be the dullest interview I’ve ever had.” She did not reply but kept her eyes lowered at the ground. She frowned thought fully. Suddenly she raised her head and smiled at Tommy. “There’s the hotel— straight ahead,” she said Tommy whistled in surprise at the three-storiec brick building, a veranda covering its entire width “Say, that is pretty swell for a town this size. Must have a big tourist trade, I’d say.” By this time they were in front of the build ing and Tommy turned to scrutinize the front. Suddenly, he heard a shrill cry behind him and whirled about to discover the cause. The girl was waving xantieally at the occupant of a passing car. With a squeal of brakes, the automobile stopped, and Tommy saw that a woman sat behind the wheel. With a hurried excuse íurled over her shoulder, the girl darted forward. Tommy stepped forward with a word of protest on his lips, but the girl was already in the car with her dog. He stood gaping as the car disappeared down the street. Frowning savagely, he picked up his bag and entered the hotel. Just before going to bed that night Tommy thought about the girl for the thousandth time. He felt like kicking himself around the block for not thinking to ask her name. What he couldn’t understand was why she had left him so abruptly. Muttering thus to himself, he turned in. A shaft of sunlight shining on his face awakened Tommy at ten o’clock. He flung off the covers and jumped out of bed. Dressing carefully after a shower and a shave, he went down to have a leisurely breakfast. After breakfast, he walked up to the desk. “Can you tell me where the Fulton residence is located?” he inquired of the smiling clerk. “Why, yes,” the clerk replied. “The address is 232 Lincoln Avenue. Five squares to your right as you leave the hotel. The Fultons live in the large stone house on the corner.” Tommy thanked him and left the hotel. After walkii for a few minutes he reached the house, a pleasant, oldfashioned, rambling home, with stately poplars lining the gravel driveway. At the door, Tommy vigorously banged with the heavy bronze knocker. A1 most instantly it opened, and Tommy explained the purpose of his visit to the maid. “Yes sir. Miss Nancy said that she would see you the moment you called. Thi: way, please.” He followed ber into a richly appointee drawing room. “Miss Nanm will be down in a moment,’ the maid informed him then silently withdrew. He sat stiffly, with a blanl expression on his features He had expected more diffi culty in obtaining an inter view with Nancy Lenor. than with a visiting sultar of India. Actually, he hae' encountered none. And wha' mystified him more was th fact that she apparenti; expected him! After several minutes o' leashed impatience, he heard light footsteps coming dowr the hall. He rose, facing th door. A young girl still in he: teens, entered the room. She stopped just inside the door “Miss Lenore? I am—’ He stared, the light of re cognition in his eyes. “You!” “Yes,” she said, a smile curving her soft lips. Tommy staggered. He wa utterly dumfounded . Sh walked up to him and placed a hand on his arm and look ed up into his face. Tommy’: heart flip-flopped. “You’ll forgive me, won’; you, Tommy?” She smile'’' wistfully. “Yes; sure,” agreed Tom my readily. “But—but wh; didn’t you tell me who yoi were yesterday?” “You didn’t ask me,” sh corrected. “And besides, i was more fun fooling yov the way I did.” She added teasingly, “That’s why J hurried away when I got the chance—before you could remember to ask me my name.” “Do you remember,” sud denly queried the now delighted Tommy, “what yov said yesterday? I mear stout my assignment turn ing out to be pleasahtei than I expected?” “Yes.” Softly she asked him: “Did it, Tommy?” “I’ll tell the world,” hr cried, his face expanding into a wide grin.-AN URGENT MESSAGE-^ to women who suffer FEMALE WEAKNESS Few women today are free from some sign of functional trouble. 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