The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-03-02

Philip you've handled this beautifully ."
 She heard him chuckle. "Ele- mentary, my dear Watson" he said, elementary. Well, go back to sleep now. So long ."
 Go back to sleep!
 She sat up in bed, more wide awake than she had ever been, and hugged the information to her heart.
 Joan Barrett, the meek-as-a mouse, doll-faced sweetheart, was the daughter of a murderer. Her father had been hanged at San quentin. Who could tell what outrageous ideas lurked behind the sweet blue eyes of the mans daughter?
 And that was the girl Bob An- drews wanted to marry!
 No wonder she had told him that she'd rather die than have him find out. Imagine living ones life with a murderer's child! Why, at any moment, she might commit the same crime herself. It was in her blood, to kill
 Bob would be thunderStruck when he found it out! It was like Sybil not to consider how intense ly he might be hurt; her mind was too full of the supreme satis- faction she would know when he learned the truth.
 She must be careful, however Too well she realized that. It was not going to be an easy story to tell. Bob was devoted to the girl, and his loyalty would not be swept aside in one sudden blow She must be very, very careful.
 It might be better, she reflected, if she were not the one to tell him. Much better. Someone else must do that. Someone else must strike the blow, and she would be on hand with her sym pathy and understanding and con-
 But who should be the one to tell him?
 Philip? She could not wait for Philip. This was Thursday. Fri day morning, rather. On Satur- day, they planned to be married. No, it could not be Philip.
 Uncle John, then?
 She considered this carefully. Bob honored and trusted him; he was guided to a very large de- gree by Uncle Johns opinions.
 Moreover, Uncle John could tell him gently and kindly, so as not to arouse too much bitterness. That would never do. Bob must not feel that, because one woman had betrayed him, they were all fashioned from the same mould. Uncle John could make him real ize that this had been wild in- fatuation very, very unfortunate, but little indiscreet, neverthe- less.
 Yes, Uncle John would be the one to tell him.
 She would speak to him the first thing in the morning, before llC lClO lOl GllC O1llSC.
 Suddenly she remembered what Bob had told her that evening about her uncle. Tonight he was alone in that little house with 40 thousand dollars! And Abraham might not be home until morn ing
 She got out of bed quickly. She would go over to see Uncle John immediately. She would tell him that she had been unable to sleep worrying about him alone in the house with all that money. And then, very carefully, pretending the utmost reluctance, she would tell him of Joan Barrett
 Hastily she dressed. She would run over the few blocks to Uncle Johns. It was too late to get out the car. Besides, she hated the struggle of opening garage doors and starting up cold motor. And if she called Jennings at this hour, he would take an eternity to dress himself
 Within ten minutes she was out Ol UllC llOltoC. cl6C1iy oAiS SNAhASN her steps in the direction of her uncles house, with as wild a song in her heart as Joan had known when she hurried along these streets a few hours previously. The same bright stars looked down on Sybil; the community rested in the same hushed quiet.
 She saw the same light burn ing in her uncle's living room, and it disturbed her. It indicated that her uncle was still up, and if that were the case, he would not be alone. MT. Norton would be with him, and over their liquers they would have reached mellow state of good fellow ship by this time.
 She did not want to see MT. Norton tonight. And she did not