White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1932-05-26


| forward to our next chance for talk,
when we can go on from where we
left off last time. Roger"
There was a delicious touch of i'm
pudence in the way he must have
handed it over with a "Stick that in,
will you?" right under Eds nose, for
him to read 1t? Ed wouldn't know
what that phrase from where we left
off last time" meant. He'd certainly
have been one surprised brother If he
could have guessed where they had
left off
II was after taking much thought
that she decided on the little private
pocket in her wrist-bag as repository
for the treasure. She didn't take it
out very often. She knew it by heart,
of course, and didn't want to wear it
out. In the bag it went wherever she
did, and was hardly ever out of arms
reach.
Other people might scorn her for
having left school, for having to go to
work in an Office, but Roger was proud
Of her for having done it. Roger
thought she was brick.
She heard dad come home, not very
late, and for quite a while she lis
tened to the murmur Of his and moth
er's voice in the sitting room. Then,
she heard dad coming upstairs and
called to him.
stIJoxu did m eI
He came straight into her room and
sat down on the edge Of the bed.
"Why, I don't know" he told her.
"Hes still enthusiastic, guess, but he's
very wary about getting down to any
thing definite. Well owe it mostly to
you, I think, If we get him. There's
no doubt Of his being enthusiastic
about you. He asked more questions
about you than he did about the choke.
He said, perfectly frankly, If he hadn't
found you in the Office this afternoon,
he'd have gone away and never come
back. So you did good job, anyhow.
don't quite see how you managed it."
ooh, didn't do any managing to
speak Of" she told him disingenuous-
ly. "I'm glad If it helps that he liked
me, though"
Jake remained for weeks hanging
upon the verge of putting his money
into the business; some sort of money,
anyhow-it wasn't, 1t seemed, his,
exactly.
Frequently, he dropped into the
office. Sometimes he brought Edith
box of candy. Once he invited her
and mother and dad to show. He
had uncounted conferences with dad,
some of them coming to point where
it seemed that tomorrow would see
the signing Of contract and the real
launching Of the enterprise upon the
grander scale. But something always
happened to put it off.
Dad was getting blue again. He
couldn't get the same thrill any more
out Of going out and selling two dozen
chokes to a small supply dealer or
converting a floorman in a garage
into an enthusiastic, If not disinter-
ested, advocate.
It was about this time that they
got maddening sort of letter from
Mr.. Mariner. 1t was written from Los
Angeles shortly after he reached
there The choke, he calmly told dad,
had proved to be no good It might
work we'll enough in flat country, but
in hills it was worse than useless.
He'd had to take it off his car. Even
as selling proposition, he'd found it
disappointing. He had turned his at
tention to the vaporizer which, on the
trip across the continent, had gone
beyond its inventors fondest hopes.
Edith had laughed at the letter and
had spoken Of the writer as poor
nut, and dad himself had tried to take
it that way. But she could see that
it had staggered him rather. He kept
wondering whether it was true that
the thing really wouldn't work in the
hills. He had no really convincing
proofs that it wasn't true.
She began to suspect too, about this
time, that there was some sort Of
strain in the relations between her ia
ther and Mr.. Willard. When the ques-
ton arose Of Edith's going to Ashe-
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