Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1944-09-22
CHAPTER II

The next instant, as she started to
giggle over her rebellious impulse,
she Unexpectedly burst into tears.
This sudden gush of tears, although
it took her by surprise, as Paul
would have assured her-and as she
fully realized herself-was beautiful
ly motivated. 1t wasn't self-pity. 1t
was fury at her meekness which
would permit selfish, overbearing
woman like Mrs. Folsome to ask a
girl without car to deliver thirty
silly invitations on night like this.
She leaned against the telephone
pole and sobbed, with her bag dam
Cling from one hand, the cellophane-
wrapped packet of invitations limp
ly held in the other.
Suddenly mans deep, resonant
voice said banteringly, Don't cry,
my pretty; I'll buy your violets."
She looked up and saw him
through twin waterfalls of tears. He
had appeared magically from no.
where. He might have sprung out
of the ground. He, too, was lean
ing against the pole. He was look
ing down at her. There was some
thing languid and lazy and perpetu-
ally relaxed about him, yet there
was a hint that, with sufficient prov
ocation, he might 60 suddenly into
action.
He was big man of about thirty,
with big head of curly hair above
big sunbrowned face. Everything
about him was outsize-his Shout
ders, his hands, his mouth. 1t was
a symmetrically sculptured mouth,
with the clearly defined, perfectly
matched lips of Buddha.
What she could see of his express
sion through her tears was sympa-
thetic and not amused. There was
something of the sea about him,
especially about his eyes. And there
was something familiar about him,
as if she had met him before. But
it was remote and vague.
Zorie lifted her face and the light
fell upon it. The strange man stared.
He jerked his head back.
"Hey!" he said softly. His voice
sounded GREATNESS. what the devil
are you doing here?"
Zorie was bewildered. For mo-
ment this man had acted as if he
knew her, as if his glimpse of her
face had shocked him. Then she
realized that he was shocked by the
woe in her face
The man had blue eyes, dark blue
and clear and attentive. He listened
to her with gravity, now and then
nodding as if he understood, and
now and then smiling quickly as she
made nice point, sometimes only
in the back of his eyes, sometimes
with his large mouth, and sometimes
with mouth and eyes, crinkling them
at the corners so that the sun-dark-
ened skin was starred with Hastings
of white. And at these moments
she could see him more clearly than
ever on the bridge of ship.
"And I hadn't even the courage"
Zorie concluded, laughing, ito ring
the bell again and ask that maid
for an umbrella"
He was nodding He smiled slow
ly and mysteriously. always, in
case of doubt" he said in his deep,
laconic voice, "obey your first i'm
pulse. Since you haven't obeyed
yours, l will now obey mine"
He reached down and took the
packet of invitations out of her hand.
Before she could stop him, he had
stripped off the cellophane, had torn
the thirty invitations lengthwise, had
placed the two pads of white strips
together, had torn them across, and
had tossed the snowy quarters into
the trash basket
Zorie gasped and delivered at that
moment a small shrek of dismay.
He was looking down at her and
laughing, and she was laughing now
too. There was something uncanny
about the influence of this tall, blue
eyed young man. 1t wasn't so much
that his strength gave her the cour-
age to face the consequences of his
act as that he gave her a reckless
indifference to them. And in a pre-
dicament like the one she now faced,
what is reckless Indifference if not
the child of courage?
At that instant, a disembodied red
face appeared in the doorway of Pro-
fessor McGonigle's house and
shrill, irascible voice cried: Hey!
Come here, dammit
AYE, aye, sir!" the tall man an
sWered.
Then a strange thing happened.
The man grabbed Zorie and pulled
her behind the telephone pole. A
pale-green sedan, the kind you rent,
with driver, for so much an hour,
was coming slowly along Maple
Street, making plopping sounds as it
went through puddles. A man and
someone else-perhaps another man,
perhaps woman-Were sitting in
the tonneau.
The man was leaning forward,
looking out the opened window at
Professor McGonigle's house. Then