The Western news. [volume] (Libby, Mont.) 1933-current, 1938-01-06

the lower floor of the Other House,
prinning at girls in lovely evening
frocks who cooed over him; froWn-
ing at men who tried to detain him.
From where he stood on the low
est step of the circular stairway,
Mark Trent watched him. All this
praise is heady stuff for boy" he
thought. and then reminded HIM
self that@sarrlA wasn't a boy. Why
wasn't Brooke with him to share
the henors2 She had been the first
TO leave the hall, the man in charge
of the parked cars had told him.
Where was Jerry Field7 He hadn't
appeared either.
A curious RFemonition turned him
cold Of course Brooke hadn't
meant it when in answer to his sar-
castle suggestion she had said she
would end Fields torment. Hadn't
she? There had been infinite deter
mination in her crisp retort:
81 will Tonight.
"Seen Brooke, Mark" Sam Rey-
burn inquired as he approached. Il
want her TO be the first to know
that I'm TO get contract that
have an option in my pocket and
check. =
Mark Trent laid his hand affec-
tionately on his shoulder.
"Great stuff, Sam, great stuff.
was sure that the New York pro-
Queer was hooked when he spoke to
me.
Sam grinned. "Offered you the
fead-in Broadway production.
didn't he2 He's publicity hound
Think of the headlines:
-a Leading Insurance Executive
Leaves Lucrative Business for the
Stage.ZsWill you do it,"
s4WiHat do you think? HoW's the
party going, Mrs. Gregory"
Mark Trent smiled at the woman
whose blazing tiara on her mar
celled white hair, and plastron of
diamonds on her purple velvet gown
| dimmed what sparkle life had left
in her tired eyes. She answered
crisply:
Listen to the hubbub and you
won't ask the question. Your party
has brought out tails and white ties,
Mark, that's a triumph in itself.
always know what guests think of
my parties by the way they dress
for them" She patted Sans sleeve.
MY boy. your play is the sweet
est, lovelest, most heart-Wringing
thing I've seen ON the stage for
years. Where's your sister? I want
to tell her what I think of it"
That's what Mark and I were
wondering. She left the hall before
the rest of us: she told me before
the first curtain was rung up that
she would dash home to change for
the party
Mrs. Gregory's face grew shade
less colorful. II don't like her not
being here, | don't like it. I've
been uneasy about that girl every
moment since she testified at the
inquest about the strange man who
passed through her room the night
of the filling station hold-up. The
man hasn't been caught. She knows
too much. They may try to put
her out of the way"
The strong lenses in Sans horn.
trimmed spectacles magnified the
horror in his eyes.
"What an awful suggestion, Mrs
Y Gregory What gosh awful
thought"
1t was an awful thought, but i'm
probable, most improbable, MARI
Trent assured himself. With diff
Guilty he cleared his voice of hoarse
ness before he accused:
You've been reading mystery
stories, Empress, confess now
haven't you? Just the same, wei
start on Brooke's trail at once. VIVA
! is it, Kowa?"
He spoke sharply to the servan
; who had wormed his way through
the crowd of dancers who over
flowed from the library to the hall
much obliged. Madame Greg
ory's car here. Chauffeur say t
. tell her storm bad, very bad. Sh
I better get home. He know she no
! like to be out in storm"
"Tell him to wait. | won't g
: till | know where Brooke is" Mrs
Gregory snapped.
i did you see Miss Reyburn com
in. Kowa?" Mark Trent inquired
7 Of course, the suggestion that sh
4 was in danger was absurd, but
: was getting under his skin.
. The Japs slanting eyes narrowe
!, to mere Sits. He put his lips clos
to Mark Trent's ear and whispered
q Miss Reyharn tell Taku she ar
( Mr.. Field go to marry, thank yol
y She She carry suitcase, sir.
g. What"
le Had he shouted the word2 Mark
d ewes flashed from Mrs. gregory
Sam Reyburn. Both were regar
g ing him anxiously, but apparent
lie neither had caught the content
1, Kowas whisper.
n "Has anything happened
Brooke?" Mrs. Gregorys III
Id twitched, tears filled her eyes. Sa
k. caught Trent's arm.
" what did Kowa say? What d
l.