Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1926-02-10
Dudley De Voc,
Alias Jean
Bv DOROTHY DOUGLAS
Copyright.

.jected stories from editorial offices
she had SO settled it in her own mind
to give up story writing that she
didn't really mind the fact that she
had left the bundle of "dud" manu-
scripts somewhere.
81 don't know and l don't care"
she told herself deGantly and swished
a sudden tear from her eyes. Just
the same | don't see how person
can write six good stories and sell
them to the best magazines and then
turn out such apparent trash as
those"
BY those" Jean meant the eight
she had lost on her way home.
John Winter, who found the packet
on the subway when he went home
from the office, glanced through them
for an address, found the name, Dud-
ley De Voc, and a street and number
and wondered what to do with them.
I'll just take them along to old
Binks; he'll know what's best and
may give him plot as WE'LL" Winter
decided
Old BinEs happened to be st. John
Binks, q writer of no small fame and
Winters best pal.
"Picked up some poor chaps raw
ings coming home tonight" he told
Binks, and handed over the packet.
Thought you might like to give them
the casual before sending them back"
Looks as if lie had shopped them
all over the place. was Binks' inter-
ested comment, and he opened a page
or two.
Consequently, a day or two later,
Jean Berry received a letter that first
enraged, then amused, then interested
her
1t began, Dear De Voe," and Jean
laughed as she habitually did when
addressed as a man. ''Your stories
have come into my hands. | am going
to rewrite and sell them for you. You
must be very young and inexperienced
in women's wiles. Your women char
acters are feeble-women aren't like
| that nowadays. Your plots and man
ners are splendid but characterization
awful l don't want to meet you yet
as it would perhaps weaken my con-
cepton of these characters or you
might try to talk me into something |
| could not see. These stories are quite
unsaabe as they are, and | see they
have been rejected, so feel confident
you won't mind my collaboration. Will
post on half the check to you as each
ie
"Well, of all things! Nerve! Con
| ceit l don't know anything about
| women, don't l? Oh WELL l should
worry anyway. There may be moth
| ing in this letter but the rawlings of a
| slightly demcnted old thing or-bet-
ter still might get some checks.
! When month or two passed by
| Jean began to watch the current mag
| azines rather closely.
| Then one sunny morning Jean
| opened a letter in which was check
so big as to make her gasp and clutch
her hair and cry and then sing. After
| all that she glanced through the short
note.
watch Post week of ninth"
Jean scarcely ate nor slept until
| that Friday morning dawned when
she could dash out and get the Post
There it was with her own title,
"Trilers," by Dudley De Voc and St.
| John Binks.
| st John BinkS--Seems to me l
! know that name" muttered Jean as
she rushed home to read the story She
| gobbled every word of it greedily.
| There was no slightest doubt of it
being an extraordinarily good yarn
now that it was masterfully written.
Jeans next act was to write short
note to Bnks, care of Post.
| Have reserved third table on left
| at Golywog, Thursday evening. Please
| don't disappoint. Will have magazine
| living on table De Voe.'
When Binks stood in the low door
way of the Golywog to survey the
| human contents of that quaint dining
| place of upper Bohemia he fell to a
sudden wish that someone sitting
! across the room could be his dinner
! partner. She was very, very alluring
Then, Binks turned hot then cold,
was possessed of a wild desire to es-
cape and still wilder one to be
| dragged to his fate.
The exquisite decoy was sitting at
the third table on the left and was
| turning the pages Of the Post.
Suddenly she smiled. st. John
Binks knew that in some purely fem
| mime way she had recognized him as
her collaboration. He went swiftly
over and before sitting down opposite
| her had felt the warming glow In her
| finger clasp.
| You have been perfectly wonderful
to me-" she was saying, and the little
| sparkles of electricity seemed to be
swapping all about her. IF there Is
that much-talked-of place called a
Seventh Heaven you have certainly