Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1925-05-28

heard her play on 1t said. on !-Sne
makes 1t talk" for they were the same
persons who said, What beautiful
flowers! They're like wax !"
Brena at the piano that evening felt
as she always felt, that she was alone
In the world-the friend of certain
dogs and cats which lived in houses
along the way home from work. She
had grown accustomed to this lonell-
ness and was nearly convinced sub
consciously that it would go on Tor
ever. Within sight there was nothing
which might break into 1t and she
had no pangs because of that. She
set her face toward tomorrows. She
might have been expected, therefore,
to be startled when the past broke
in upon her.
1t came in the form of Compton
Parmalee.
Brena had been writing in her hot
room under the roof. 1t was still hot,
although the Texas fall had come and
Brena, with her sleeves rolled back
from her shapely young arms with
their cream-colored skin, had been
bending over her little table trying to
set down in the form of written
drama the story of the one other girl
who worked now in the Porto Rican
Embroidery store. The story was not
as dramatic a story as it may have
appeared to Brena at seventeen. Nor
could Brena have written play be-
cause she had no knowledge whatever
of the craft of writing plays, which
she later found out Is matter of
skilled carpentry and not inspired, as
Brena had conceived it. For all Of
this she now asks to be forgiven, since
everyone, usually in extreme youth,
writes play and nearly everyone, as
Brena, startled and surprised at the
secret labor, thrusts the manuscript
into drawer when knock comes.
1t was Mrs. Wilkie.
!" she said, exploding her
usual establishment, inquiry and dis
approval in one puffed word.
Brena smiled.
you better put yourself to rights 7"
said the landlady, holding the edge
of the vanished yellow door. you
better dress your best! You've got a
caller"
ITO see meY'
"Yes, to see you. And such caller !
It's Mr.. Parmalee!'
Brena stiffened. She asked: "What
does he want to see me for7''
Il don't know" Mrs. Wilzie admit
ted. Il certainly wish did. He has
coolies Of money! He speculated dur
ing this year and he's made a for
tune!''
Il will go down just as / am" said
Brena calmly and firmly. Il do not
care about his fortune, Mrs. Wilkie
want to find out what he wants Of
me-"
Compton Parmalee did not appear
at all anxious to say what he wanted.
He was small, wiry man. careful of
his dress, who above everything else
was self-contained. He thrust his
chances. AS Brena Selcoss came in
the door he thrust a glance at her and
then looked up at the ceiling as If his
mind was digesting that which his
gray eyes had photographed. AS she
came toward him inquiringly, he rose
thrust another glance at her and
looked out the window considering.
When she stopped he thrust once
more and sat down looking at the car
pet. Everyone who ever knew Comp
ton Parmalee will remember the char
acteristic inspection of that daring
Spectator.
Are you Miss Selcoss?" he asked,
as If now that he was able to fasten
his gaze upon her, he found it i'm
probable that the girl he saw in all
her freshness of youth was the girl
he had come to see.
EYES," he said.
Parmalee had come to Texas from
the desert country of southern Cali
fornia when he was twenty-six. He
knew that country well. In his years
in Dallas, acting as cotton commits
sion man and commodity gambler, he
had collected a large and valuable
library about the whole historic
Southwest, its Indian tribes, the Pueb-
los, the strange customs and secrets
Of savage men carrying some of the
traits and traditions of prehistoric Az
tees, and the Jesuit missionaries. 1t
was said by some persons that his
quiet ways were veneer put on by
some studious years In Berkeley at
the university, but rumor had it that
Parmalee with his rather pale, young
face that made him look thirty instead
Of forty three, his small, well-shaped
hands, his immaculate linen, his soft
voice, had once shot man across
roulette table which he himself owned
and operated.
That he was ever man of violence
ering gambler, but not with his per-
sonal safety; his personal safety was
his principal concern. He wore gloves
on all occasiOns-to keep the germs
off his hands; he had his massive ma
hogany desk, In the Office building
down every morning with an antisep-
tic: long years before the practice had
become a worthy fashion he had him
self examined periodically by special
lists. He was always fearing conta-
gton. He gargled He snuffed. He
sprayed. He read medical journals.
He feared cancer above all other
things. He loved his life SO much that
he had loved no woman for many