The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1929-08-10
outlook Not Bright for Getting N. D. Wheat to Terminals Shortly

that it would make their hair stand
on end. Then she sent for Jack.
"See here" she accused him, show
come you're telepkoning my family?
Don't you know transcontinental con.
versations are . little luxury reserved
for millionaires?
1T didn't cost much" he affirmed.
"The poor things were worried stiff"
"And you've been wiring them" she
continued stcrnly.
That's nothing. Gee whiz. Molly"
Jack, you're incorrisible." Her
voice now was very gentle. II love
you fearfully."
He sat on the side Of the bed, and
crushed her hands in his.
"And ! haven't = cent" he cried bit
terly.
II love you," she whispered.
That's your tough luck" he re.
torted with bitter humor. Listen.
Molly. I've been thinking things over.
I want to free you from our engage
ment."
"Jackw
II do" he insisted stubbornly.
Let's talk 1t over sensibly."
Don't you love me any more:"
"Love you'll" he groaned.
The smile fled from her lips.
What's wrong, DEAR"
Nothing. Not a darn thing. Ex-
cept I've got to be fair to you. Don't
you see, Molly? Don't make it any
harder, DEAR"
He had walked to the window now,
and was Juggling on the curtain cord.
His face was as white rs her band
ages.
you've a career ahead of you," he
told her doggedly. "You want to
write-and God knows you al write.
Molly. Why, honey-sirl, you ran
write all around lots Of these women
that get their stuff published all over
the place! Women with big names, I
mean. You're better than any Of
them.
II wish to heaven" he broke off
suddenly, shat you'd get this crime
bug out of your head. You can write
such darn pretty things. Love stories,
I mean. Sweet, romantic stuff. Gee,
you can't tell me that doesn't sell,
Molly"
Big names can sell anything" she
told him patiently. But anybody can
sell crime that can write It pretty
WE'LL"
"Well, anyhow" He attacked the
subject again determinedly. 1.-THE
point is, you want to write, and here's
your big chance. I was talking with
your friend Red Flynn yesterday. He
says he has a producer interested. He
says you can cash in like q million on
all the publicity Of the Mandiuello
trial and the shooting. l guess he
knows what he's talking about. He's
talked it over with q lot Of big guns.
He says you'll 60 over with : bang.
Well, once you find yourself where
you want to be, dear-a playwright,
and all that-that's going to be some
thing different. You understand,
don't you?"
"No," she said in 4 scared little
voice. I'm afraid l DON'T"
AL right then. I'll make it clear
er. II you're going to make q lot of
money, and grab 4 lot Of fame-good
gosh, Molly, you don't want to be
tied down to q nogood son.of-a-gun."
"You want to break U engage
ment. Jack?" she asked quietly. "You
really want to-"
EYES," he insisted stubbornly, II
do. It's for your own good, Molly. It's
because I love you 50 much, I'm 60
ing away. Somewhere 80 far that
! can't poster you any more. I'm 20
ing to leave you free, Sweetheart, to
have q career"
III that's the price, Jack, I'll give
up the career"
NO." he said. "You can't. It's
there-that talent-right inside you.
You can't cut It out any more than
you can amputate your heart"
"Oh, yes, l can"
"Well, l won't let you. It would
come between US after q while. You
know what Longfellow had to say
OF all sad words Of tongue or pen, the
saddest are these-it might have
been.' l guess it's the truth. You'd
always be thinking Of what might
have been, if you hadn't married me-"
"But we could get married" she
cried. "You could be an architect.
and l could write" She tried to laugh.
"And We could have q lot Of little
authors, who'd illustrate their own
stories. You know-they'd take after
us both"
"And you drawing down maybe q
thousand a week." he cut in, "and me
$50. Do you think ! could stand that"
IF you love me-yes."
IF I loved you?" Ne laughed harsh
~. That's not the question. If you
kept on loving me, you mean. And
you couldn't do it, Molly. No woman
could. A woman hasn't any respect
for = nan that can't take care Of
her. 49,"
Miss MCGOWAN came knocking,
thermometer in hand.
"Now what have you been saying
to excite my patient, Mr.. Wells :" she
demanded.
She sent him away. and followed
him into the hall to whisper:
"Hcr temperatures 1927"
(To Be Continued)
u. S.. to Be Charted