The daily monitor leader. [volume] (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1942-19??, 1942-11-18

oil rigorous liSlu WOih 30 TIC
lads" wouldn't be too keyed
up or too physically stale. A
light dawn workout had been
ordered instead, then two good
meals and a movie before actual
game time tomorrow.
In short, Pop knew the coach
ing job was mental and emo
tional at this stage; it was one
basis of his great success as a
football co-ch. His players
would be scattered to the four
winds this afternoon, just relax
ing, avoiding any filters. And
Blythe couldn't wait until 5 for
Duane.
He just might come to Pops
office anyway" she said now, in
wishful thinking.
It gave her a destination. En-
tering the hallway, she found
about 20 other men there. Ca
diets, players, ex-players, college
alumni, football fans in general.
A few of them had business of
some kind or other and Pop ap-
peared TO be swamped. But
there was no Duane. Nancy
was obviously enjoying every
thing, too. The note of high
jinks, the feel of good times in
the air, was mamma to her fun
starved soul. Blythe saw her
smiling and talking and laugh
ing at everybody. Then Nancy
saw Blythe and ran to her.
"Oh, BLY,, isn't it all just too
exciting!' she breathed in quick
intimacy again. II love it! l can
never thank you enough for get
ting me this job.
1T -. have you seen. -. !
mean. -" BLY, was incoherent.
end with their daughters, Misses
But I've got to scoot in a lit
tie bit, honey. Half an hour at
most. Pop said / could. I'm
the big hostess tonight, you
know. And IL guess I'm scar
ed"
Blythe looked quickly at her.
What do you mean?"
~ just am! Imagine me, hav-
ing the two star players for din
ner guests! Me! / thought
about making it party for all
of us. But, honey-Pop wanted
them kept kind of quiet. You
know what / mean. He depends
on Duane and Norman so.
want to help him all l CAM"
Blythe had to bite her lip
hard. If it hadn't been here in
crowd of men, she couldn't
have resisted tearing into Nancy
Hale. AS matters went on,
somebody interrupted them and
Nancy went away.
Blythe found herself listening
to Elmer Summers, the Journal
sports editor, without actually
hearing him. The sense of con-
fusion in her seemed more and
more to press down. Con-
fusion, and vague but desper-
ate urgency now. She almost
wished that she had gone to the
police. Summers was asking her
a direct question, and she could
only stare foolishly at him,
Suddenly he turned personal.
Excuse me, Miss Miller" said
he, "but I'm afraid you may not
feel so good, hmmm? Matter OF
fact, you look like the devil. ]
mean, like you were sick or
something. Pop was in bed.
Maybe"
"Oh ....no, thank you. ]
mean-no. I'm all right. I'm
just a little tired, l guess. And ]
haven't had any lunch"
THAT would make even me
look pale! Come on and let me
buy for you, hmm? I'm safe, you
know. Old married man, two
kids, and too ugly to be danger
Gus. Let me take you over to
the beanery and visit while you
eat"
She smiled wanly, in graft
tude. You're awfully nice, Mr..
Summers. But l couldn't eat a
thing and I'm afraid /" She
saw then that it was he who
wasn't listening.
who are the dignitaries ar
riving?" He was looking out q
window. Blythe ooked, too.
"Oh!" she gasped.
"Say!" Summers interest
leaped. II know those guys. Big
shots.'
Blythe saw two men leaving a
taxi, and-yes-one had on a
derby hat and a turned-up over
coat!
She caught barely glimpse
because Summers was taller and
inconsciously blocked the win