The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1934-09-21
CHAPTER III

straw as she thoughtfully regarded 81
Puffer, who, seated on a milking stool
opposite, gazed back at her with fatu-
GUS admiration.
"What sort of man Is Len Galloway,
Mr.. 81? He has called on one pretext
or another every day since took
possession of this property. You don't
have to tell me that he is compelling
person and good-looking. know
that. His eyes are too dark and fash
ing, too near-set; his chin bit too as
sertive; his hair is getting perilously
thin on top, isn't 1t? Is he the whoop-
de-doo lad of the village? Mother
Puffer said that he was born in the
red brick house. Has he always lived
In this town."
Puffer rubbed an unshaven cheek.
Grew up here. Went west bout two
years ago after he'd met with a dis
appointment in love. Then his father
died and he came back bursting with
know-how and began contracting to
cut timber. What's he been saying to
your"
HE wants to buy the trees on the
upper wood lot-the one Uncle Austin
bought of his father. He didn't make
a definite offer. He asked me to sign
a contract giving him the right to cut
all trees over ten inches and all wood
necessary to get it out. Of course, I
don't know anything about the bust
ness, but when he added that last
clause the imp who regulates traffic
in my mind flashed on a red light"
Puffer chortled. "You sure have
your own way Of saying things, Miss
Prue. I guess that imp was on his
job. Mind, don't say Len would set
out to cheat you, but he isn't in bust
ness for his health alone, and if you
crossed him-well, don't have nothing
to do with him. Then you're sure. If
you like him, that's your business.
All I'll say is, handsome is as hand
some does. Hulloa, here's Rodl Won
der If he wants to buy timber?"
He waved his hand to Rodney
Gerard, who, with spectacular -four
ish and fanfare of French horn,
stopped his car in front Of the barn.
Greetings, Prue of Prosperity farm
Morning. Sill Come for ride, will
you? It's whale of day." His eyes
were on the girl.
Terrible sorry can't go, Roddy,
but I've got to work on them poultry
houses. My boss is ALFRED fussy."
Puffer chuckled and vanished round a
corner.
Prudence took possession of the
stool her man-of-all-work had vacated.
She shook her head as she answered
the question in Gerard's eyes.
eff that invitation was meant for
me, can't go. I'm busy. The hens
are approaching the season of dimin-
ishing returns-to put it conservative
ly. High yields and large profits must
be my battle-cry. Ever heard of an
economic graph? Mr.. 81 and have
been tracing one. You seem to forget
that am woman of affairs. I can't
waste time playing with idle little
boys like you"
"All right, I'm an idle little boy.
Why should I work? I don't need
money; / put the best I've got into
any sport make stab at; like a
good time and-there you are"
Prudence rested her elbows on her
knees, her chin in her palms, and
studied Rodney Gerard curiously from
~; nf In Ill
cut face-she reluctantly conceded
that it had an underlying strength
was care-free, debonair. Her memory
flashed a closeup of Len Galloway.
She compared the two. Rodney Gerard
was as tall as the lumberman. He
gave an impression Of 1.-THE strength
where the other man was massive.
whats happened to your ambi-
ton? Arrested development? Don't
you care to accomplish things?" she
asked gravely.
"Some things. Do you?"
adore 1t. love trying to do what
have to do superlatively well
made good as craftsman"
"What sort of craftsman"
"Silver and gold. When people be-
gan to sneak cautiously from their
financial erash-proof dugouts. began to
unhoard, l earned fairly good in
come making jewelry and silver boxes.
Then the back-to-the-land urge caught
MS, turned me into farmer-and
here am"
Solving up your craft2"
mot If I can possibly squeeze In
time for 1t. / adore 1t. From now on
l shall be an extremely busy person;
Mother Puffer Ia about to instruct me
in the thrifty art Of canning. You.
doubtless. win soon return to that gay
circle of society in which you must
be a bright and shining light"
She hadn't known that blue eyes
could be famingly black, nor that q
fair skin could turn so darkly red.
you've got that wrong. I'm an ex-
tremely busy person. too"
"Youl Busy? About what"
Taking medical correspondence