The daily monitor leader. [volume] (Mount Clemens, Mich.) 1942-19??, 1943-01-08


ly, and held out her own hand.
us he we'll? Is he simply starv-
ing to death? I'm Cynthia Mer-
iwether."
Dunbar smiled gravely at her
He sent a note to you," he said,
and drew an envelope from his
pocket. II hope it gives me a
good character"
She tore the envelope open
and Immediately began to read
aloud.
"Cynnie, you glamor girl.
Here is Vaughan Dunbar, who
has carefully corrected my man.
ners from Adds Ababa to- Ia
greb. Be kind to him. He is not
quite the stuffed shirt he looks
"Oh!" Cynthia touched her
fingers to her lips in mock en-
barrassment. Il shouldn't have
read that aloud-or should T."
Dun ba ar chuckled. Praise
from Sir Hubert" he said, lis
praise indeed"
Cynthia peere d at him. 81
tn n k l see now what Bill
meant" she said gloomily. And
even the Colonel permitted the
wisp of a smile to flicker on his
calm face.
Cynthia turned her eyes back
to the page: He may look like
a Mayfair m o C h er, but he
knows more about the inside of
Europe than any man ever saw
- except when / looked in the
mirror just now. He'll tell. you
what trifling news there is of
me. And he'll probably also tell
you that you are grand. beauti-
full, desirable, great pa /,
blessed with that certain thing,
alsa a little touched in the head.
Which are my sentiments. Love.
Bill"
She let out heavy sigh -
the color had bloomed in her
cheeks - and folded the letter
Then she smiled even more
warmly upon Vaughan Dunbar,
and said, We'll, Mr.. Dunbar,
any friend of Bill Stewards is
entitled to the best we've got
to offer"
The Colonel said, Perhaps
Mr.. Dunbar would like 10 be-
come acquainted with our
friends here" and Cynthia be-
gan the dull ritual of intro
auctions. When the routine was
accomplished, she stood before
Vaughan Dunbar, and looked at
him, and gave orders.
"All right, let's 60" she said.
1--WE will find a quiet place and
you will tell me the very last
bit of news about Bill"
The friendship between Gym
this Merriwether and William
Stewart, journalist, was in many
ways an unusual thing, and in
all ways whatsoever an envi-
able one. He was a man of so,
perhaps a trifle more. He had
been, in happier times, full slave
to daughter whom he adored
with an aWesome alteration -
and that daughter had been the
bosom companion of Cynthia.
The Stewards had lived, in a
manner of speaking. upon the
fringes of Gull Point. Those be-
ing the days when it was the
chief fad of the rich to seek the
c m any of the intelligent.
Those being the days when ar
ticulate folk, from reporters to
new novelists and even drama
critics, were the prize guests OF
parties and fetes Cham
petres, and the gossip column
ist more to be desired at the
dinner table than a duke of roy
al blood.
William Stewart - no, Bill
Stewart - had muffled his Gym
icism in behalf of his daughters
amusement and her
hopes for the future.
And thereby he had beckoned
disaster
For the daughter had been
taken into The Hunt. And host
esses of divers sorts had provid-
ed horses for her to ride. And
one fine day such a horse had
faltered at barrier, and had
fallen, and the daughter of Bill
Stewart was gone.
Cynthia nursed Bill Stewart
for certain months thereafter:
nursed his heart and the fibers
of his soul, which was genuine
~ a courageous soul, however
wounded now - and
nursed as we'll the despair which
bent over him and tried valiant
~ to make a drunkard of him.
So they we're friends. And so,
restored by her at the last, he
had thrown himself back into
furious work.
How is he?" Cynthia asked
Vaughan Dunbar. How is my
darling old Bill? Just talk about
him. Please do"