The Coolidge examiner., 1933-10-13
PICTURE
PUZZLE
g
By Thayer Waldo
g. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate.
ENTTT Gart.icp


|"HB patio floor cleaned with
soft luster as a tepid breeze
- gently swung the lanterns
overhead. In one corner a cos
tuned trio strummed tango music
that mingled with the ceaseless hum
of talk, and was lost beneath 1t.
Sitting by one of the little refresh
ment tables, slipping a highball and
smoking, Lang reflected that the
party must be a great success.
Perhaps, he thought, when Holly
wood was better known, such affairs
as this would have more meaning T;
just now, however, it all seemed
queer and somehow little unreal.
Two figures came toward him from
the crowd, and he rose.
One, he saw, was Newsom, the
evenings host. Beside him walked
woman, olive skinned and wearing
white satin evening gown. Her
hair was a rebelliously curling jet
mass. Smiling, Newsom brought
her forward.
Lola" he said, heres some one
you ought to know. You were miss
ing when l introduced him around
earlier this evening. He's our new
est writer-just got in yesterday
and / hear he's going to do the
adaptation on your next story.
Mr. Walter Lang-AIiss Lola La
Mesa"
A row of very white teeth flashed
at Lang and big eyes regarded him
with bright intensity.
Then she spoke, and the voice
was a warm. volatile torrent:
"Oh, how loveleel You are so
nice looking an l know you mus
be veree clever an we weel have
such fun when you write the peec-
ture for me because we can theenk
of so nance cute theengs for me to
do; no"
Lang's polite smile became a pure
grin.
"Of course" he answered, laugh
ingly; well make it a regular hum
dinger!" !"
Newsom chuckled.
Sounds" he suggested, "as If you
two should get along pretty well to-
gether."
For only a moment longer she
stayed, having. it appeared, an en-
gagement elsewhere. Newsom, too,
excused himself. complaining wryly
that hosts duties were endless.
But, alone once more, Lang was
conscious Of a change of feeling.
Stars, executives, dlrectors-he
had met them all tonight and been
aware merely, in varying degree, of
prettiness and brilllance and smooth
voices. Here, though, was some
thing that lingered-that golden
face, framed In black, and crinkling
with vivacity while words tumbled
from It's impish red lips.
Suddenly a voice close by him
asked:
Happen to have a spare ciga-
retteT
Lang glanced up quickly.
A short slight man with sandy
hair stood across the tile-topped ta-
BILE. Lang tried to recall the face
and couldn't.
Right" he said." pulling a pack
from his pocket and handing II
over. afraid I've forgotten your
name" he added; meeting so many
people in such a short time. -
The man returned the cigarettes,
dropped into chair and replied:
That's okay; you didn't meet me.
When Newsom had you in tow, /
ducked. Figured you were in for
enough grief already. But they told
me who you were. GarrisOn's my
name-handle the publicity office
out at Zenith"
Lang said: "Glad to know you.
Yes, I'll admit these wholesale
introductions are sort of unsatisfac-
tory"
Garrison made a snorting sound.
That" he stated, "is just a Hol-
lywood specimen. Believe you me,
brother, it's all screwy."
Lang glanced at the fellow in
mild surprise. Then, beyond him,
in the open doorway to the house,
he saw Lola La Mesa. She was
wrapped now in long, gray cloak,
apparently saying good-bys to a lit
tie group which included Newsom.
The musicians, too, had gone, he
noticed; yet the party was showing
no signs of breaking up.
The, as he watched her eye
caught his. She smiled elfishly and,
with a sudden impulsive gesture,
kissed her fingertips toward him.
Lang waved a response. again pleas
urably aware of her sparkling live
| illness.
| Garrison remarked careleSSly: