The Waterbury Democrat. [volume] (Waterbury, Conn.) 1917-1946, 1940-06-22

him for Christmasp And here's
the little gold trumpet he always
wore on his shirt"
"Oh :, !" Francie seized the
wallet and pin. "They are his,
Pops
John Westons eyes we're hard,
I'm going 10 see what's happened
10 that boy He turned 10 the
officer. Keep an eye on this fell
low"
Francie was pulling on Stacks
over her pajamas. I'm going
along. Pops. I heard Gusty play
ing his trumpet just before I went
TO sleep. I know the direction 1t
came from"
They followed the highway Mr..
Weston searching In all directions
with the long beam OF his fash
light. Francie forced her shaking
legs TO keep up with him. Hor-
rible thoughts pressed IN on her.
Suppose GuSty was murdered?
Wouldn't II be all all her fault7 II
she'd only ridden with him when
he asked her
There's the car" Mr.. Weston
exclaimed.
Gusty's old roadster was parked
In O culvert. The dying embers
Of O campfire cast pale light on
o still figure,
Francie chung TO her father as
they stumbled forward. Mr.. Wes-
ton directed his fiashlight over
Gusty's face. His eyes were closed,
A great purple welt discoiored his
forehead.
Francie threw herself at his side,
sobbing, "Oh, Gusty, Gusty, It's all
my fault. I'm so sorry. Please
don't die
Mr.. Weston pulled her gently
away, He bent, making O quick
examination.
He's Just had o nasty blow, Take
the fiashlight and run back TO
camp. I'll need someone TO help
me carry him. Have the proprietor
get q cabin ready and telephone
for q doctor"
n was all zone so quickly that
Francle had no time TO think. A
brisk young doctor arrived, ex-
amined Gusty and said with o
grin, "Tough-skulled youngster.
Except for O severe headache, he'll
be okay In the morning"
Francie hurried into the cabin.
Gusty's eyes were still closed, but
he breathed evenly. His rugged,
young face was pale, relaxed. His
helplessness tugged at Francie's
heart. II seemed impossible that
she would ever hear his donkey
laugh again.
Mr.. Weston entered and Francie
turned tear-clouded eyes TO him,
"I-I'm going TO stay with him,
Pops. He might waken and need
me-"
John Weston said gravely, you've
had o pretty trying night, Francie.
wouldn't 1t be better II I"
"Oh, no, Pops, IL want TO-"
He hesitated, then smiled his
understanding. "of course you do,
dear"
Alone, Francie switched out oil
the lights except q small lamp by
the bed. Then she drew up chair
and took dusty'S hand. II was cool
and limp. Bitterly ashamed, she
thought OF oil the nasty things she'd
said TO him. She bent over and
brushed her lips across his cheek
In o kiss OF forgiveness.
AZ she lid, she felt the weight
OF dustys wallet In her pocket.
She wondered II II would be
wrong Just TO see how much
money dusty had The wallet
contained S35 In crumpled bills.
Another thought struck her. She
opened O side flap In the wallet.
II was therel The precious ticket
to the pegasus-i. B. @. broadcast,
along with hastily scrubbed note
Of consent from dusty's father.
Francie thrust the wallet aside,
feeling guilty. She had no busi-
ness meddling with Gusty's prop.
erty. She's give II 10 him the min.
ute he wakened.
At that moment dusty's eyeiids
huttered open. He gazed about the
room, puzzled. Then he said
"dosh, what happened9"