The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1940-07-01
| Ticket to
HOLLYWOOD
CAST on CHARACTERS

IVY
CAST on CHARACTERS
FRANCE WESTON girl with
voice and ambition 70 crash the
GUsTY GATR-garage mechanic
who can givs out on uu Ii6ptand.
JERRY PIN NE \ - MoNieiahu
youngest glamor man
YESTERDAY. Francis decides 70
use a woman's viles 10 get the ticket
from Gusty After dance, she
urges him TO park al the airport
Gusty is falling for her line, sue
cumbing TO the influences OF noon
light and perfume when France
mentions the ticket. Angrily, Gusty
refuses 70 surrender II. drives Frahcie
home.
CHAPTER "
Francie slept on tesr-wet
pillow. She awakened late. sun
shine curled like a warm, yellow
kitten on her bed. The gentle
breeze puffed at the lace curtains.
II was a lovely, perfumed Sunday.
but Francie closed her eyes to its
seduction.
Ordinarily Gusty would race into
the driveway soon after dinner, his
trick horns making a racket like
dairy farm at milking time.
Francie would raid the ice box
and he would stow away huge
portions of leftover roast beef
and apple pie. After that, they
might swim, listen to records.
drive, or do any of dozen grand
things.
Francie sat up, angry with her
self Wasn't she through with
Gusty forever? What if he didn't
come today? There were plenty
of other boys, weren't there? Boys
who wouldn't be selfish and con-
ceited and =.
She brushed her hair languidly,
studying her face in the mirror.
Last nights tears had left shadows
under her eyes. No color showed
in her smooth, young cheeks.
Francie suddenly felt herself very
much the Lady of Sorrow. She
arranged her hair in severe lines
away from her ears, and scorned
all makeup.
Downstairs she paused outside
the living room, hearing her father
say, "As usual, Hat, you're making
Wagnerian tragedy out of simple
quarrel. Francie'll patch things
up with Gustie and forget all about
this fool ticket"
Aunt Hat said, Indeed, John?
hardly expected you to under
stand"
Il think I understand Francie,"
Mr.. Weston said quietly. she's
got too much common sense to let
this get her down"
Young dreams . :" Aunt Hat
murmureo How little man I'M
derstands them! A soul crying for
artistic expression. All, the poor
child"
AS if this were her cue, Francie
entered the room. Without con-
scious effort, she had slipped into
the hole assigned to her by Aunt
Hat. The white, quilted robe made
her seem fragile. Her eyes held a
faraway look.
John Weston scrutinized his
daughter sharply. Good morning.
dear. Have good Sleep"
II guess so, Pops"
Poor child" Aunt Hat clucked
alphabetically. "I'll go right out
and fix you some breakfast. You
need strength
I'm not hungry, Aunt Hat"
Francie moved to the window,
stared into space.
rs anything wrong. Francie ?"
John Weston asked. Il saw you
go out with Gusty last night.
Haven't you patched up your
quarrel"
Francie said frigidly, My opin-
ion of Gusty Gsir has not changed,
Pops"
ou. I1t Itiuiilt1 10 TIE SUN
day paper, his brow furrowed.
From the kitchen Aunt Hat
called. DO have coffee, dear
Francie obeyed languidly. Tip
ping the dripolator, Aunt Hat
/ whispered, did you get it. Fran
Gle? oh, you did You show the
strain you've been under. That's
1t, isn't it, Francie ,"
Truth, poised upon Frsncie's
tongue. was never uttered. Aunt
Hat was so eager, so sure that her
methods couldn't fail Frsncie
simply hadn't the courage to admit
that Gusty had been too smart for
them. Besides, what difference
could it make ? Pops wouldn't take
them TO Hollywood. anyway.
She said. "Everything's all right,
Aunt Hat"
"Oh, darling, I'm so glad, You've
no idea what this trip means
to me-"
Francie said. You're pretty sure
Pops will go"
Trust me, Francie. I've only
begun to work on him."
The next few days bore out Aunt
Hats assertion. Morning and eve
ming woulo hear the discussion
going on. Unwittingly she herself
contributed to the cause by falling
deeper into her Lady Of Sorrow
role. Each day she waited for
Gusty to come and beg forgive
ness. but he remained stubbornly
away Each day Francie's pallor
deepened.
At the dinner table Wednesday
evening. John Weston said. Fran
Gle, you haven't eaten a thing all
week You're losing weight. just