The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-09-13
:. SERIAL STORY
 MA aRRMeE. ING.
BY CHARLES B. FARMER

eyes, ma'am, we is," Callle agreed with enthusiasm.
 "Let them get the colt In racing shape; then we'll pay Q surprise visit. In the meanwhile, you run the house while I ride around, gather material = do my writing here"
 Already Linda had the begin- nings for her two ordered stories on gentlemen steeplechase riders, on women and racing. She would drive to the big breeding farms - some were owned by women - talk with old timers, jot down anec- dotes--
 Three days later the storm broke. A letter from Berwyn; Linda sniffed the paper. Ughl Perfumedl He might have gotten paper of his own. It read:
 "Dea Linda:
 T was shocked to see in the news- paper, which our trainer showed me, an article telling about your buying the colt, Golden Toy. l was under the impression that I owned half of him. l still believe so. However, since you are posing-in the press-as be- ing the owner, I'd suggest that you own all of him. Or else sell your half to me.
 We paid eight hundred for him; there are witnesses to that purchase, Now I want to play fair-1'm not trying to hold you up. I'll give you four hundred for your share, or you may have my interest for the same sum.
 "Please let me know, by return mall, your decision.
 Sincerely,
 BROWN DONALD"
 Linda's lips curved with contempt. The handwriting of Donald, but the inspiration of the woman called Merle. Inspiration2 That was put ting 1t mildly. Mama spanked all right" she said to herself.
 Of course she had to buy his interest, and good riddance 1t would be. But what was she going to use for moneya It didn't grow on trees in the Blue Grass.
 Here's 0 postal forget, Miss Linda" Callie gave her the yel- low card. Stamped Louisville, Linda recognized Uncle Sandy's scrubbed writing. So, he was getting in touch at last. "Fifty-fifty he wants some- thing" she murmured, turning the card over. It read:
 Dear Linda, the colt is shap- ing up right nice. You know he was in training when we bought him. I breezed him five furlongs this Q. m. He did 1t handily in i:0i-"
 Linda whistled to herself. Why, that was only two seconds off the track record. The colt was stepping along.
 "of course, keeping that speed for Q mile is something else, but we think we got right nice colt and I'd thank you to send me $l0o right away as feed is nightly high, Your uncle,
 ALEXANDER GORDON"
 Linda shook her head with ex- asperation. That was like Uncle Sandy: to run of with scarcely 0 shin-plaster in his pocket; not to write, till he was facing the sheriff; then to drop Q casual note
 He'd have to have money; maybe not all of the one hundred instantly, but eventually. 'Mgirl, she spoke to herself, you've got to dig Ave hundred, pronto."
 She sat in deep thought as Callie tidied the house. Confound his racing gamel The romance of itp Bugles blowing-s,in gleam- ing on jockeys silks = sleek thor oughbreds prancing past the stands they're offl-oh, boshl It was just money, money oil the time. Monte was right; women and rac- Ing
 She straightened. She could get this money from Monte; he'd snap ct the chance of buying half interest in the colt, She could get 1t from Bruce
 She shook her head. No dice. Shed never borrowed from c man yet, and she was through with partnerships. She'd own the colt from tail to nose, or
 She jumped to her feet, went to the phone, put in long distance call to MT. Moss in New York. A check was due for the Man O War yarn-she'd get at least 5 cents Q word for that: about c hundred and seVenty-flve maybe more. And she'd ask for an advance against those two ordered stories. She hated to do 1t, but this was no time to be squeamiSh.
 In three minutes time she heard his booming voice: Yes, yes - what is it2"
 "1t's Ave hundred dollars, MT. Moss" Those were her first words.
 "What2"
 Sorry, but I must have the money. If my face isn't good, well, I'm sending in two corking good yarns next week."
 E.1.S E~AL D.