The Waterbury Democrat., 1933-10-19

Barbara Courtney was waiting when he returned. Don't bother to explain, Bob." she said. "I sup pose you had a telegram to send or somebody called you to the phone or your bootlegger was wait ing"
 "Three bad guesses. Shall ex-
 Don't bother. I'm so terribly glad to see you 1t doesn't matter
 That was one of the nice things about Barbara. She never made things difficult.
 "But I am hurt because you didn't call me when you first got here! I called and called and couldn't get you" she went on.
 "I planned to call you soon. I've been busy working on plans for the textile plant"
 "But you'll play around some. Bob. What about tomorrow night ? Some of us are going to the club for dinner and then to the Silver Slipper later"
 He hesitated. "I'm really fright fully busy. I've bunch of blue prints to check tomorrow"
 "Please, Bob! It's going to be an awfully nice party"
 "All right then. I really want ed to-"
 "it's settled! And will you pick me up, Bob? I'm going to break . date for you."
 It was hard to refuse Barbara. She was a nice kid and he'd rather liked her the summer they were on the same house party in Maine. His father had met her, too, when she came to New York and thought she was Al:
 when Barbara had gone he went to his room and studied the. list of Warrens in the telephone di- rectory. We'll, there was nothing else to do. He would go through the list systematically. Half way through. some time later, he thought he detected an amused note in the operator's voice. He crimsoned, but went doggedly on. Some of the Warrens were out. He made pencil notations of these. :.
 "May speak to Joan, please q
 About the twelfth time he asked that a voice said pleasantly. Just 8 moment"
 A mans voice answered. Some one thought he wanted to speak to "Joe." Bob's spirits slumped again. phone calls, confidence was lehv- ine him. Illogically. he was angry bara hadn't stopped him. he would have reached Joan before she stepped in the elevator. If she had not stopped him, he would be with Joan now-driving maybe, or watching a picture show, or per- haps they'd be in the living room of her home with an open ire ana the lights turned low.
 His blueprints were in a case. The small trunk filled with his fayorite books-books which had supplied all his need for entertain ment during his six months in the Azores-was waiting to be un- packed. But he began undressing. He was tired. The night was flat.
 He would find Joan if he had to employ every detective in Mem
 I'm getting off my head" he thought. I'm going to bed and sleep off this sentimental spree"
 But the romantic hangover was just as bad.
 Joan was having her blue mos ments too. She was punishing herself with the thought that she would never see him again. If she had only waited a moment longer he would probably have joined them. But she had looked back and a girl was talking with him. So she had rushed away with Pat as though she wanted to get away from him. What was the matter with girls that they acted like that?
 "I'll never see him again." she thought. Opportunities don't keep coming to people,"
 The mood persisted and Joan in such 8 mood was as nice to have about as an ice pack on a