The Ypsilanti daily press. (Ypsilanti, Mich.) 1928-1962, 1941-04-12
CHAPTER THREE


DOWN MAIN STREET, into Oak
avenue, a short cut through Elm
lane-and there was the church.
Joel could see the late sun touch
ing its UNCOVERED walls to silver.
Thee was a sort Of CLEAN about
it, as glimpsed through the huge
and ancient trees that bordered the
grass-grown ground surrounding
it Peaceful-quiet-like an old
fashioned painting; the sort he had
often seen on the calendars the
grocer, the butcher, or the electric
light maker had given his Aunt
Sallie at Christmas time. Just to
remind you, Mrs. Randall, that we
still want your patronage"
And what big part that church
edifice had played in his life, Joel
thought; in his, Bills and Aunt
Sallie's. He could remember how
Bill had looked in the infant class.
Hair slicked down, cheeks pink and
shining, a small boy who was a
bit too eager to show how well
he could answer questions. Drama
tizing the story OF Daniel in the
lions n, putting an amazing lot
of color into the one about David
and his slingshot. Even that far
back, Bill had possessed story tell
ing ability. And how the small
girls had admired him! Big-eyed,
handsome, sure Of himself: a pock-
et-edition Adonis; an abridged edi-
ton of Romeo; q miniature Sir
Galahad!
The church plays, the Christmas
cantatas, the Sunday school pic
MICS, with Bill growing handsomer
all the time, and more popular; be-
ing the hero Of the plays, the most
outstanding angel In the cantatas,
and the life Of the party at the pic
MICS. Selling his first story, the one
about life in a small-town church,
ana getting written up In the local
paper. Winning scenario writing
contest, with a yarn about a string
Of pearls hidden In a church choir,
depositing his thousand dollar
check in the First National bank
Of Ardendale, and getting written
up again; this time on the front
page with headlines. Then the trip
to South America, trip made pos
sible by part Of the thousand dol
lars. You can invest all you've got
in the Randall Mills" he'd said to
Joel, but I'm going to see the
world. Besides, I've got to get ma
terial for my next story. 1 can't 60
on forever writing about churches
and small towns" And the return
to Ardendale, the homecoming OF
the popular hero. And always the
girls. Little, big, pretty, adoring;
even the homely ones, dying to win
a smile from the handsome home
town boy, and being a little pa
thetic when Bill forgot to notice
them.
And now the church again.
1t was the setting for William
Randall Latham's marriage to Rita
Lnwood. More color, more drama,
more headlines in the paper. Bill,
with gay banners flying, doing
everything to the fare Of trum-
pets. Or so IL seemed to Joel. He
found himself wondering Just how
Bill would take q setback of some
sort, Just how he would act II the
banners were suddenly not there,
nor the trumpets. But he would
probably never know, since Bill ap-
peared to be the sort Of chap who
went through life on wings Of
glamor and excitement. And-Joel
grinned to himself as he thought
this-and once he,' Aunt Sallie, and
Uncle John had been afraid that
Bill would always be a sad and for
Iorn sort OF person-morose. even
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. Of the tragic !
death OF his parents. They had
been afraid that event would leave
an indelible mark upon the life OF
Randall Latham. How |
wrong they had beenl How very, |
very wrong!
Joel slowed down the car az he
reached the church, peering about
or a parking space. 1t was prac-
.ically impossible to find one.
Every available inch Of space
Ieemed to have been taken. How
'ver, he finally squeezed his car In
,etween Judge Powers antique
electric which Bill had nicknamed