The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1937-01-15
Blu Ida LARR1MORE
q Ida Larrimore.
WNU Service.

Macpherson had helped him out OF
scrapes and, outwitting his Presby-
terrain conscience, had whitewashed
the accusing evidence of some
youthful folly. The lectures the lean
sandy Scot had delivered privately!
Jim WINGED at recurring memories.
If he'd been spoiled, it wasn't the
fault of the MacPhersons.
They'd been fond of him and
proud of him. He had parted from
them with sincere emotion when the
crash came, when Uncle James and
Aunt Emily had gone to California
and mortgage company had taken
over whitehall" He'd promised
to look them up. He hadn't, of
course. Not that he had forgotten
them. He'd been occupied with
the business of trying to find a job,
with singing for his supper, with
rediscovering Lenore.
The MacPhersons had meant to
retire. He'd been surprised and a
little disturbed when, through his
uncle's lawyer, he had learned that
they were employed by people
named Vaughn - T. H. Vaughn,
"Meadowbrook," Glendale. A card
from Mrs. Macpherson last Christ
mas had confirmed the information.
Dear jamie" she had written UNI
der a lavish sprinkling of holly
sprigs and tinsel, ANDY and I are
wishing you'd come to see u.s."
Jamie! No one except the MacPher-
sons called him that. The name
woke sleeping memories. If he
could be Jamie" again
Sentimental idiot The half-smile
touching Jim's lips widened into a
derisive grin. 1t was only that
Well, the weekend had been hui
initiating. He'd been hurt and he
was running to the MacPhersons
for sympathy and comfort. A damn
fool idea! He was ashamed of him
self. To find them would be, at
best, only temporary anesthetic,
scarcely worth the pains of walking
three dusty miles.
He was through with misleading
impulses. No more romantic whims.
He would take the first train back to
town, pick up his bags at the club
and go on to New York. Perhaps,
if he made close connections, he
would reach Roselyn in time for
Kay's party. At any rate, at the
first opportune moment, he would
ask Lenore to marry him.
Jim Lit a cigarette. Mental per-
plexities lulled for the moment. He
was conscious of physical discom-
fort. Hungry, that was it. He'd
had nothing to eat since breakfast.
There must be restaurant, some
where in the village. He calculated
the depressing state of his finances.
Worse than he had anticipated. He'd
had no business to play red-dog
with the Callenders last night. Such
dissipation was for the opulent.
Well, he could manage milk-shake,
at least, and drugstore sandwich
or two.
The timetable gave him half an
hour for refreshments. Jim left the
station and strobe off along the
main street of the village. Not much
of town, he thought, chain-stores,
fish-market, an expensive looking
grocery, a small brick bank with a
Colonial facade.
The village, Jim surmised, served
as base of supplies for the outly-
ing estates. A post office painted
olive green, tailor shop, a bakery.
The latest movies, anyway.
The drugstore occupied a promi-
nent corner location. Jim entered,
grateful at once for the dim light
after the glare of the street. The
soda fountain looked pleasantly
cool. He seated himself and re-
moved his hat. Food and something
cold to drink-Lord, he was hungry!
A head appeared at the level with
the counter, a head foaming with
yellow curls bound by a band of
narrow ribbon. 1t lowered there for
a moment and Jim heard from the
obscure region behind the fountain
a vexed exclamation. Presently a
face appeared and then the slight
rounded figure Of a girl in a tea
room uniform of crisp yellow and
blue. She had fiax-blue eyes and a
tilted nose and she looked across
the counter with so cross an express
sion that Jim was amused.
"Hello," he said and smiled.
Jim's smile was very engaging.
The girl behind the counter re-