The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-10-07
When. 4 Girl Muyries
By Ann LAsle.
(continued from Page Eight }
Copyright nas. by King Featres avnl
 caus, Incl

(Continued from Page Eighty
 was so preoccupied with this ugly situation that began meking prepar- ations for dinner in complete silence. But Jim didn't appear to notice this. He had brought out his books on ac- counting and was working away with complete ingle-heartedness of pur- pose-to master that difficult study at one sitting.
 Now and then, as I came into the living room with something for the dinner table. I heard him fling a ques- ton at Neal, who was standing idly at one of the windows playing with the apricott silk curtains. Now this hurt my house-wifeIy feelings. but sI realized that Neal was still sore from the rebuff Virginia had given him and that he would be frightful1y hurt by even the slightest correction.
 Presently Neal followed me into the kitchen.
 Anything I can do. Babbs." he asked, with an entire lack of anima- ton that was no odder than his ques- tion- Generally he plunged in and helped with out any direction from me.
 Don't bother if you're tired. dear. I've nothing much to get-I saved a few sandwiches for you. and the rest of the dinners just chops and carrots and baked potatoes"
 'Id like something to do. TT don't want to think. Babbs," persisted Neal-then, suddenly, Say, Babbs, have you heard from father lately?"
 That's funny, Neal was going to ask you about that. I've written twice a week as usual ever since you came but I've had only couple of postals from Father Andrew. l thougrt it was because he was writing to you"
 I've had exactly one letter from father since I came" Neal replied. in a voice that was almost husky.
 'One letter? And you've been here over three weeks-almost a month. What does it mean. Neal?" I cried in anazement, slamming the door Of the broiling oven on my chops and turning to face him.
 There was flash of defiance in his eyes as he responded:
 "I told you when came, didn't I, that I hadn't consulted father about my job? said I just got it-and lit
 "Yes, you did. and sat right down and wrote Father Andrew you were with us and that everything would be all right. It hurt me a little that he didn't answer my letter with more than a postal-but I thought he was busy. and I didn't ask to see your let them to me if you wanted me to see them, After all. no matter how l love him, Father Andrew is your really, truly dad-not mine," I said slowly feeling my way through the tangle l began to sense.
 q guess he's been wishing he was your father-instead of mine.' Neal said bitterly.
 went over and laid my hand on his shoulder
 "Neal-is there something you want to tell Babbsie?"
 "I'll keep my affairs to myself" re- piled Neal, shaking off my hand and muttering with a boyish gruffness I might have known masked, actual em otion. TT only get hurt when I talk about what really matters. No one, believes in me. And maybe they're right not to. But might be different if they did. You think I'm as fickle as the deuce, and that Dalton woman thinks I'm not to be trusted at all, and jim"
 He stopped abruptly. His voice had risen high and tense-it broke on a high note.
 -Yes, Neal" asked Jim's voice. He had hobbled across the living room and stood in the doorway of the kitchenette. His face was stern and set. His voice had a ring of authority.
 You were saying that no one trust ed you. No. Neal, you needn't look so indignant - wasn't aves-dropping. When I heard you shout that no one believed in you. I hurried out here as fast as my-ankle would permit. So you think don't trust you?'
 How can you trust be - knowing what you do?" Neal tried to hold his voice steady, but in spite of him, broken note crept into it. "Y ou'Ve stood by-aand tried to help me. But what must you think of me-you with that smashed foot you got in the fight IID'
 Then he turned to me and flung his young head high as he choked out the confession it must have tortured him to make. And. strangely enough instead of wavering away-NeaPs eyes held mine as he muttered, huskly:
 I'm a stacker Babbsie. A draft dodger. I ran away from home to get out of being a soldier-to get away from the draft"
 CHAPTER LXVI.
 "A slacker!" I gasped. "Oh. Neal, Neal-you've broken Father An
 1T guess I have" said Neal-be- tween his teeth. That's way ne doesn't write. He thinks you're in It, too. He thinks you've helped me keep out of this war"
 I tried to find some words Of com- fort.
 'You-always hated blood and disfigurement. From a child you hated scars-and maiming. You cant help it. poor lad Father mustn blame you. But Neal, Neal. darling, fNIu~