The Ypsilanti daily press. (Ypsilanti, Mich.) 1928-1962, 1942-06-10

backtracked. They made no plans.
Instead, one day found them fish,
ing in mountain stream, clad in
high boots and old clothes. Another
day found them beautifully attired,
having tea on the porch of an ex-
pensive resort hotel.
They went through Yosemite,
guarded by its sternly majestic
cliffs, softened by feathery water
falls. And through the redwood for
ests where gigantic trees seemed
to pierce the heavens, trees that
paraded so thickly past streams
and clumps of ferns, that the sun
barely made its way through in
thin shafts of light.
On the Columbia River highway,
near Portland, they stopped to
gawk at the Multnomah Falls.
They went to Mount Rainier, where
they made snowballs and fused at
the foggy clouds, until they finally
obliged by parting directly over the
glacial splendor of the mountain,
that to the Indians, was a god.
In Seattle they loaded Lois luxu-
rious station wagon onto one of the
little boats and went over to Vic
toria, to be met by bagpipe sere-
made Of welcome. played by little
Scotch girls in kits. There, they
drove miles through the peaceful,
totally English beauty Of Victoria,
then drove over it all again. never
firing of the unbelievable flowers
and bright greenery.
They loved the old style majesty
Of the Empress hotel, with its ex-
pertly kept grounds, and its rooms,
old-fashioned and high ceilinged,
with quaint narrow beds and the
incredibly gorgeous drinking
glasses. sheer enough to grace a
banquet table. They bought sweat
ers. dozens Of fine handkerchiefs,
imported tweeds, tiny silver SOU
venir demi-tasse spoons. They
drank bitter English ale. They
fished for trout in the Comichan
river. And cried when they left.
When they drove into the out
skirts Of Los Angeles, they had
been away six weeks. And
haven't once mentioned Larry"
Anette thought, as she walked in
to the many-roomed Spanish stucco
house. Yet, she had been aware of
him every instant in spite Of the
fact there had been no communi-
cations between them. The girl had
kept both August and Ralph Hay
apprised Of her whereabouts, but
not her husband.
She had let herself into the
house with her key. A glance at
her glittering watch explained the
rather uneerthly quiet; IL was the
servants dinner hour. She went
on up to the separate wing of the
house where Emma had moved va
rious belongings the night before
Anette had left with Lois Lyndon.
On the dressing table, beside a
comb and brush, cosmetic jars and
perfume bottles, where she would
be certain to see them as soon as
she entered, were several letters.
Hurriedly she fingered through
the stack, then smiled. At least
half were from Larry, some post
marked Yuma, but sent to the Bev-
erly Hills address rather than to
any along her itinerary. Others, not
stamped, were decorated with a
pen-sketched carrier pigeon in the
upper right hand corner. There was
telegram, also, which she read
instantly, an already opered teie-
gram, addressed both to her and
Larry from Walter. announcing a
visit.
She sat down on the end OF her
bed and began reading Larry's let
tiers which were marked, one, two
and so on. The first was furious
and long although the sist Of %
was slight. II she thought she could
walk out, without his permission.
and go on a trip with Lois Lyndon,
Of all people, she would learn diff