The Pleasantville press. (Pleasantville, N.J.) 1912-1929, 1919-03-01
Larry's
Lighthouse
~ -
By John E
By JOHN TRENT
copyright, 1918, by the Mcclure Newspa
per Syndicate.)

Quetchet and flung a taunt at the lit
tie girl with flaming red hair who
had wrinkled her nose at him.
"Redheadi" tainted Larry ungal-
lantly. Lighthouse !" he added, as
the little girl pulled her white sunbon-
net over her gorgeous curls and sour
ried away to her nurse.
"Nurse! !" pouted Jean. "Am 1 a
lighthouse because my hair is red?"
"No-no-Miss JEAN" laughed nurse,
looking up from her sewing; 'your
hair is very pretty, indeed, just like
your mammals; you mustn't mind what
that naughty little Delmore boy says!"
81 shan't mind a bit" said Jean,
comforted but in spite of her resolu-
ton the memory of the taunt fingered
and ranked, so that as the years went
by she grew positively to dislike the
name of Delmore-especially Larry
Delmore-and she was always hearing
1t, although they never met after that
summer.
Larry Delmore was the sort of young
man whose name is always confronting
one. He excelled in everything. He
was honor man of his class at college,
a famous halfback, the driver of a
winning automobile in a famous race,
an aviator, a musician, and last, but
not least, an excellent business a
Jean Lloyd heard of these things in
her remote boarding school and later
at the fashionable finishing school. but
always she discounted his clevernesS
by her bitter recollection of his taunt
that midsummer day Is years ago.
81 could never endure him." she told
her best friend one day. "a horrid,
grubby little tow-headed boy! I can
fancy just how d~isagreeable he must
be now"
Miriam Smith looked wide-eyed at
Jean. Haven't you met him since
thenP" she wondered.
Jean shook her glorious, rudy
crowned head.
y i y
From his towering height Larry Del
more looked across the hotel ballroom
and saw a tall, graceful girl gowned
in white. About her snowy throat was
twisted a wonderful string of pearls,
and, save for the high-piled masses of
her hair, there was not a bit of color
about her.
"Who is that girl?" he asked the first
man he met.
The man glanced in the direction
Indicated by Larry's eager gray eyes.
"You mean the one with golden hair?"
he asked.
mo, no." protested Larry, "the tall
girl in white-the girl with auburn
hair"
"Oh. you mean Miss Lloyd-Jean
Lloyd. May I present your"
mot just now" decided Larry, and
for some ineXplicable reason he turned
his back on Miss Lloyd's beautiful
face and wandered out to the balcony.
There is something very striking
about that girl" thought Larry, pluck
ing at the geraniums in the flower
boxes. "Confounded funny feeling 1
had when Morton offered to introduce
me. l wanted to go like the dickens,
but-somehow, she had such a naughty
poise to her head that I'm deucedly
afraid she wouldn't be as charming as
she looked. I'm going to find out
later"
When he returned to the ballroom
Miss Lloyd had disappeared, and he
saw her no more that night. By
careful inquiry he learned that she
and her father were stopping at the
Quetchet hotel for the season.
The next morning he arose with
the sun and went down to the ocean
for his early swim. He had the beach
to himself save for one lone swimmer
who vas breasting the surf with easy
grace. It was a woman wearing a red
bathing cap he decided at first. A fur
ther inspection revealed that the glis-
tening copper glory was browning the
head of Jean Lloyd and that her head
was uncovered.
So Larry plunged into the sea and
disported himsenf like a young por-
poise. Larry Delmore was a swim
mer of note in addition to his other
accomplishments, and when he saw
Miss LlOyd's glowing head turned
steadily out at sea while the flash of
her white arms cut the blue-green sur
face of the waves like a veritable mer-
maid, he followed her, in the mascu-
line spirit not to be outdone by a
mere woman.
But the water was cold that morn
ing and perhaps Mr.. Delmore was not
up to his usual form at any rate, he
suddenly stopped his long, steady
strokes, blanched at the agonizing
cramp that seized his limbs, uttered a
low cry of alarm and went down.
The girl heard the cry and turned
just as he disappeared. When he came
up she was calling to him to hold up
that she was coming-coming-!
Through the flying spray and the rock
ing green and white of the wave he
caught the glimpse of her red hair and
her white face coming nearer.
When he rose to the surface again.
still writing in that awful cramp, it