Evening star., 1932-04-03

of the Versailles, Greg Bates seago.ng
J. yacht, and struggled with her problem.
Greg wanted her to marry him; he had
asked her often in the year past. She
felt he would ask her again tonight
A less idealistic young woman, one not so
inconveniently hampered with character, would
have fallen like a ripe apple into Gregs arms
long ago. For he had been one of the grade
social fish for seven seasons. Avaricious
mothers and daughters had angled vainly for
him with all sorts of tempting bait.
Eve knew that by all smart standards she
was insane to refuse him, but she could not
shut her mind to the memory of another man
one whom she had never met, but whose
striking personality had meshed with the sub
stance of her day dreams ever since. Several
years before she had watched him make
spectacular defense against flying arms and
score touchdown for great university. The
man was, to her. unforgettable. He was her
ideal.
The tide shift slowly swung the Hannah
Murphy a squat, wide-beled cargo ship with
weather stained gear and spars, directly into
the path of moonlight which was Ewes path
Of vision.
Ewes eyes were instantly caught by figure
on the disordered deck of the veteran craft.
A young man with a tousled shock of red
hair naked to the waist, sprawled and relaxed
in the angular crook of rickety deck chair
Surely there was but one man in the world
with hair like that-her heart missed beat
and that was the one who had lived so long
will her in her secret garden.
The distance was short. The mans lace was
in shadow but Eve visualized his figure dis
tinctly.
Lean-waisted with no suggestion of ripple
of flesh above the straight, tight line Of blue
dungarees, his bulky, aptly proportioned shoui-
ders and correct head rose from a perfect
torso Trim ankles and strong bare feet pro-
tha CHI
probably his garment suggested that the
mans legs were as surely and sinuously mus
cled and sculptured as his upper body.
I've compared the obvious strength of this
- man that hinted at the resolute power OF a
coiled steel spring, with the soft and sated
impression conveyed by Gregs physique. In
fancy she aligned the lives of the two men, their
attitudes toward life, their characters. With
every stroke of imagination this picturesque
red-topped man, evidently resting from drilling
toll, intrigued her more forcibly.
Darn it, Eve I've been hunting you every
where up forward" Greg came from the COM
panionway and laid light hands on Ewes shoul-
ders Want a dance with you old dear, before
the party gets rough. Sort OF SICK OF TINS
fancy grooming, Eve. Just one dance, dear!
Then let's wander back here to moonlight and
silent. Coming?""
"Td rather not, Greg" Eve replied. Her
gaze still clung to the symmetry and appeal OF
the recumbent man over the way on the Hannah
Murphy. Gould it be her dream man?
Lets sit for a few minutes, Greg" Eve
casually maneuvered wicker deck divan at
right angle for further observation of that vivid
physical personality across the water.
For moments each sat silently in opposite
corners of the gayly cushioned lounge. VEN
ture from Greg:
"Colorful chap over there in the ratty chair
of the old lumber scow, eh? Might be fighter
with those shoulders and that outline what?"
"I believe he is fighter, Greg He's prob
ably fighter every day of his life, in one way
or another"
HAS to be, likely. But Eve, dear, why bother
our heads about him? Let's talk about our
selves. Eve, my dear, won't you marry me?
Well drop the swank stuff and go for two
some cruise wherever you say to Honolulu,
Pago Pago anywhere and, say, Ill take
you to your pet place Guernsey! Come
along! You do know that really care, don't
you dear?"
"Oh, yes Greg, I know I know, too, that
your friends are all over the world. You'd have
party in every port Like this one tonight.
I hate parties, Greg"
Greg, rebuffed so often, let his chin sink on
his chest wordless.
Eve comprehended She was seized by an
abrupt impulse of revelation, sponsored by the
feeling that swift slash was kinder than
series of mischievous pinches So Eve saShed.
Greg, I can't marry you and I'll tell you
why I'll talk turkeyl Then you'll know me
for what am, and you won't want me.
Greg, you're a golden-spoon man; was
raised with scent one in my mouth There's
that splendid figure of man you spoke OF over
there and you called him colorful. Said he
looked like fighter! I've been watching him.