The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1922-05-25
Eoening Story
Into the Hands of the Enemy.
By ID. LOUIS RAYBOLD.


s'Heigho. people! Forgive me if 1
turnbIed out late. The crowd jazzed
to the wee small hours and. believe
me. I could go on jazzing yeti! Ana
bob haired Mlrgery gave a Few grace
full iInitatio of the very newest JerKy
step not taught by the best dancing
masters. Then she flung herself into
her chair at the breakfast table ana
plunged vigorously into the business
of eating.
Behind the shining percolator Mar
gery's mother sighed. But Margery'
father scoWled, opened his lips, then
shut them forcibly and moment later
strobe from the room. So many times
recently he had wanted to take his
cherished daughter by the shoulders
and shake her..
Left alone with her mother, Mar
gerry finished two halves of grape
fruit, an egg, three slices of toast and
a cup of coffee. Then. chin on folded
hands, she gazed dreamily into space:
There was such a darling fellow
INJURED. I'VE danced every dance to-
gether. Some one introduced us at
the start. And tonic. W he is COM
ing to take me out in his roadster
Wen ride and ride and ride
Where was Peter?' Mrs. Hol-
listers voice brought Margery up
short. She frowned.
Darn Peteri L hate him. He's as
bad as you and dad. A prig from the
last century. Takes me to task for
-bobbing my hair, for making eyes at
the boys--why, the most innocent lit
tie things that all the othc- girls do
nowadays. And last night on the way,
he said unless 1 cut it out and was
engaged to him. and him only, he was
going away. 1 could see afterward he
didn't like my dancing so much with
Freddy Cole. And when he brought
me home he said he was saying a
long goodby, and told him 1 was
also, and perfectly cheerfuIly!'
Mrs. HOLSTER was more upset over
this particular outburst of her daugh-
ter than she cared to show. She and
her-husband had banked SO much on
dependable Peter; had hoped that this
W1llfuI reckleSSneSS of their carefully
reared daughter was but a passing
phase imposed by the example of an
unrestrained generation, and that har-
bored safe in the love of strong man.
such as they knew Peter to be. she
would find her true self.
That evening Margery'sN mother
went into a long and earnest consulta-
ton with her husband, the result be-
ing several telephone calls, one of
Wnlch was the ticket office at the sta
ton, where three berths were re-
served on the Montreal express.
A week later Margery HOLSTER stood
on the rough-heWn steps of a log
cabin Veranda and gazed at the scene
before her in disinay. A tiny path
running dowa to the Ial1e-the lake
itself a bread eXp2I1Se with no visible
signs of life; in the distance range
upon range CT forested mountains
stretching into misty obscurity. Then
she glanced d0Tsn at herself. Were
those her own slim legs encased in
leather Ieggirgs and thick nigh boots /?
Was this her 5hapely self in rough
tweed skirt and flannel blouse?
Margery bit her lip and stifIed back
a sob. Within the shack she knew
her father and mother were discussing
hikes and fishing expeditions and
canoe trips with an uncouth, wiry-
bearded guide. Well, she would not
give them the satisfaction of knowing
how she hated the prospect.
Back to nature for you, young
lady, and take a fresh start,'s had
been her fathers cool ultimatum
when you're so sick of it that real
cream would taste like nectar and an
oId-fashioned waltz seem like an adj
turn to civilization. Not before!"
The pride of all the HOLSTERS
surged within her. She'd show themi
She'd even pretend to enjoy it!
Followed days so unreal that they
seemed like a dream to the city-bred
girl Early mornings after the spec
kled tout which Jim. the guide,
wrapped in leaves and broiled SO de-
HcioEsly. Lazy hours of padding and
explora ton along the shore. Invigor-
atirg swims in the cool, clear water.
Quiet evenings when the moon rose
in silver splendor above the pine tree
tops to a whip po'-wilI serenade.
= "She seems contented enough,
strange to say" commented her father
one afternoon as he watched his
daughted skillfully Bleaching her canoe
on the yellow crescent of sand. 81
wonder if it's time to SPRING
feWait," said Margery's mother. "At
first. I am sure she was spitefully
pretending to enjoy the life. But re-
Gently I have come to believe she is
genuinely happy. Give her-and us
a. little more timei"
After all, it was Margery herself
who walked into the trap SO carefully