, 1923-02-25
4LE'-A Great Novel of H5LIyzyood Lite

pulsion that drew her mother to her
across the continent.
Old Mrs. Steddon had raised &. fam.
lily and been habited to n mothers
slumber, light and fltfuI and broken
with frequent dashes to bedsides
troubled by bad dreams or imagined
burglars or nero thirst or a cough.
Mrs. Steddon had always flung out of
her W warm overs to run 70 the
call. If her hasty feet found both
her slippers or one or neither, she
fastened as she was. She would not
have paused for a wolf, an Indian, a
murderer, a fire. or an earthquake.
Mem was still her baby in the dark,
and 1t did -not matter whether she
lay needful and terrified in the next
room or beyond the deserts or the
seven seas. The mothers one BUSH
ness was to get to her. Her telegram
was her old night cry: "I'm coming
honey. Don't worry. Mammals com.
ing 10 her baby" She shot this cry
across the continent and called Mem
baby" although Mem felt as old as
night.
The Reverend Doctor Steddon had
wished that he might go along, but
his church tasks held him and he
could not find the money for two
fares. The lies he had been told la
succeeded to perfection.
Mems efforts to hide herself and
support herself in the wilderness he
assumed to be her usual unselfish
and characteristic unwillingness to
be a bother to her father and mother.
Doctor Steddon agreed with his
wife that she must set out at once
for Palm Springs. He raised the ne
cessary funds by lifting still more of
his little savings from the bank and
drawing pauperdom closer. His only
regret was thai he had not more to
sacrifice.
ing Mems train route, with all the
difference in the world: Mem. a
pung and beautiful girl, had had all
her fate before her and n heart of
growing audacity and reckless ambi
ton. Mrs. Steddon. an old and shabby
parsCness, had all her hope behind
her and hat not much. and a heart
full of tnexperience and of timidlty
before everything except self-immola-
ton.
When Mem learned that her
mother was already on the train,
she coulG devise no plan for turn
ing her back. Somehow she had to
be met and provided for.
Every one q the women of Mems
Hollywood household was out of
work. She who had savings vas
lending them to her who had not.
One of the women in the bungalow
CAV up the fight and, putting up her
little car for security, borrowed from
Leva mCney enough to pay her fare
home to the village and the scornful
relatives she had sworn never to re
turn to except in triumph. The serv-
ant had been released, and the strand
ed women were cooking their own
food, such as 1t was.
It was this dire conformation with
bankruptcy that hao goaded Mem to
her insane idea of pawning her virtue
for an opportunity. when the cast
ing director had gwen her a sermon
Instead of a quid pro quo. she had
found herself abiect indeed; even her
shamelessness repulsed and her last
trinket proved non-negotiable.
And now her mother! In every
deep a lower deep!' But Leva res.
pended to her panic by an almost
hysterical bravery. She laughed,
I'm dig n little farther down in the
SOCK" ans added the trite old brav-
cry: Cheer up! The worst is yet to
GOMEZ
with q few dollars from Leva's
waning Mem took the train
20 Palm Springs, her one remaining
hope being the confidence that when
sunlight, in a bright and gaudy bunga-
from Mr.. Tirrey saying that she was
engaged.
She reached Palm Springs in time
to nave a little talk with Mrs. Dack
who was closing out her business
and good will as a washerwoman
and preparing to take her boy Terry
to the golden city of Los Angeles.
This was a gamble. indeed. and Mem
was frightened by what she had set
on foot. She found nothing SO ter.