The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1931-10-22
CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT
MARY mastered a wild desire to
N1 shout at her future mother
in-law. Could nothing crack that
magnificent self-assurance? But
perhaps Mrs. Ruyther hadn't known
how important the matter was.
When she finally got through to
Dirk, Mary could hear him growl-
ing sleepily: What time is it?
Three-twenty? Oh, damn it, why
wasn't I called? Mary? Listen. Get
cab and go to the corner of Third
avenue and street. The
northwest corner.
Eddie will meet you there at 4.
You've half an hour, but you may
make it if you hurry. Got it? All
right run. I'll come as fast as l
can"
She turned from the instrument,
her thoughts twirling. Gloves, bag
she must have money for the cab.
Had she enough? Better call Tom.
But Tom had been up all night
and had just turned in for a little
sleep. The other chauffeur alter
mated in the role Of gardeners
helper and was out on the lawn
somewhere in dungarees.
Better get a taxi. Bowen was
waiting for an answer to his re-
quest that he be allowed to go
with her to meet her brother, but
Mary motioned him away absently.
Il can't talk to you now" she
said hurriedly, and went out. The
newspaper man hesitated, but there
was nothing to do but leave, so he
followed. Under the portico stood
a ramsackle car which Mary, in
desperation, was cycling specula-
lively.
Empty taxicabs don't ply the
Long Island by-roads, Shed have
to call up the village, and precious
seconds were ticking away.
Bowen, observing her dilemma,
advanced toward the car, opened
the door and paused with a foot on
the running board.
I'll take you wherever you're
going" he offered. mo fooling," he
offered. mo fooling. 1 won't fol-
low you'll take you there and
run. I've got an edition to catch
anyway"
There was no choice. She must
hurry or run the chance of miss
ing Eddie She got in swiftly and
they went roaring off toward town
at gratifyingly rapid pace.
Bowen was mercifully silent, de-
voting himself to getting the last
ounce of speed out of his decrepit
car and once they were in town, to
worming it swiftly through the
heavy late afternoon traffic.
A block before they had reached
the corner Dirk designated, she
asked him to put her down. To
make up for her obvious lack of
trust, she thanked him warmly.
IF 1 do have anything to give
the newspapers, I'll tell you first"
she promised and gave him her
hand Bowen, fishing for a cigaret
and watching the slim figure hurry
off, was the victim of mixed emo
tions.
Well he had said he wouldn't
follow, but he could have kicked
himself for making the promise.
He was getting to be a softie, let
ting a pair of heavily fringed eyes
and an artless look swerve him
from the line of duty.
DOWEN had seen girls who wore
ID that look of dewy innocence
before, in his travels about New
York. Later he had discovered to
his sorrow that they were harder
cookies" than himself, which was
saying a good deal
At least they prof1ted a great deal
more from their endeavors than he
did from his. From long observa-
ton of the New York scene, he had
learned that the good, the true, and
the beautiful are not always what
they seem.
Yet he was dead sure that Mary
Hardness was real. How he knew
it, he could not say.
1t was crime to let her get
away. She had promised him the