Brownsville herald. [volume], November 24, 1932, Image 6

About Brownsville herald. [volume] (Brownsville, Tex.) 1910-current

Image provided by: University of North Texas; Denton, TX

                
Mary Brnti*.OH was in
that state ut ecstasy
aud terror that is call
ed being in love.
Sue was in love with Joe Law.
rencc and sbe badn’t known mm
a week and sbe badn’t seen him
for two days and sbe was aboard
tbe Berkshire Express on her
way up the Housatonic valley to
a week-end party to which bis
aunt had invited her and—would
everything be tbe same?
Sbe was astonished at herself.
She didn't know Joe Lawrence's
aunt; sbe didn't know any of thtf
people who would be at tbe
parly; she didn't know whether
Joe Lawrence was seriously in
love with her or not. And yet
she had accepted the invitation.
It was almost as it she were pur
suing Joe Lawrence. And it was
inconceivable that a Burleigh
should pursue auybody. Tbe
Burleigha had never had to.
Mary Burleigh turned again to
the book she had been reading.
The book was John Harkaway’s
Good-by to Love. She found it
reassuring. She had no doubts
about love while she read. Aud
she admired the delicacy of John
liarkaway’s understanding and
appreciation of women. She
wondered what Joe Lawrence
would think of the hook. Joe
wasn’t a bookish person. He had
probably never heard of John
liarkaway.
She put the book away care
fully in one of her bags before
the train stopped at Cornwall
Bridge. She didn t want anyone
to see that she *-ad it with her.
Joe Lawrence was waiting for
her. But be wasn't alone. He
had seven or eight gay young
people with him in a big touring
ear. They, all seemed to know
him intimately. They called him
Larry. Mary hadn't known any
body called him that. She sat be
side him ihrougli the long cool
drive to his aunt’s place in the
Litchfield hills, with a big red
moon coming up. But there was
another girl in the front seat
with them—a handsome, horrid
girl who calmly reached over
ant) tiok Joe Lawrence's cigar
ette out of bis mouth and smoked
It herself. Mary had no chance
for a private word with him.
She had no chance at his
aunt’s either. There was a big
dance on. and people were al
ready arriving. Mary bad to
dress. While she dressed she
heard all the sounds of a parly
in the making — the laugh:er
anil the excited voices and I he
rushing up and down stairs
through the immense house —
and wished that shi could see
Joe alone.
QllE could not gut'-st how he
O felt And it wa unbearable
not to know. Because she was
quite mad about him. And she
knew he was the sort of mau
most .omen wanted—so tall and
loan and sure of himself—with
out any swank or pose. lie
looked like he kind of man who
could lei.d a lost cause. Indeed
he had led one He had brought
the Deiwiler expedition out of
Thibet after they had got into a
war wit the natives and lost
five men d most of their sup
plies. He must know that he
could trea. any woman as he
had treated her; he must have
taken dozens of them in his arms
am’ told th m they were lovely
and kissed them and forgotten
them
.Mary Burleigh took a last look
at herself in the mirror. She
found that last look reassuring.
She was quite as handsome as
the girl in the car who had taken
Joe Lawrence’s cigarette and she
wasn't a hussy.
Joe Lawrence was waiting for
her downstairs. He came forward
froru a group that included the
hussy of the cigarette and greet
ed her with a grave smile and
took her artn. The dance was
In some other building a hundred
yards away. They walked to
ward the soft, sweet beat of the
music. Halfway. Joe Lawrence
turned aside and took her down
a path that branched ofT.
.Mary Burleigh saw the gleam
of water In the moonlight and
heard the sound of water going
over a dam. She knew that Joe
Lawrence was going to kiss her
again. And this time she would
know whether he really cared nr
not. She had been so completely
his that first time that she hadn't
noticed anything. She had only
felt.
As they approached the lake
they heard the sound of angrv
voices. The girl cried out. *‘I
hate you—1 hate you." The man
said. "Darling, you know ! love
you." His tone was so charged
with feeling that Mary Burleigh
thought it was utterly convinc
ing.
Joe Lawrence turned hack.
Mary couldn’t hear the words in
which the girl replied but only
the intense bitterness of her
voice.
un. Aiary saia 10 joe uw
renee, “how I hate quarreling.”
HEY probably think they
hate it too.” Joe Lawrence
said
“Only vulgar people quarrel.”
Mary said.
“I dot.’t think that’s fair.” Joe
Lawrence said. “I think we re
all liable—no matter how much
above it we think w-e are."
Mary had no chance to argue
it. They ran into another group
just then. She had to stand and
go through introductions and
make small talk.
“Come." Joe said at last, “let's
dance."
Mary waited, as they danced,
for him to speak of their last
meeting. Rut he did not. Ob
viously lie felt sure of her. When
the orchestra paused a young
n an. a college boy evidently,
came hurrying up.
"Mary." Joe Lawrence said,
“this H my cousin. Eddie Tolli
ver I'm afraid he wants to
ejsvlffs * **
Only Vulgar People Quarrel
Young lr. Tolliver did waul
to dance wiiji her. As Mao
dauced with him she watched Jo*
Lawrence. He wasn't dancing
He vas -tandinp at one side ol
the room talking to the hussy oi
tbj cigarette. A big. heavy man
witn a crooked nose and thick
lips, who wore a white bar
tender's jacket, joined them, le
put his arm familiarly through
Joe Lawrence's arm. Obviously
the big mau was a guest aud not
a servant. The hu took Joe's
other arm. The three of them
walked off togcthe
"I suppo j." young Lddie Tol
liver r * to Mary. “I suppose
you know that Jo Lawrence was
o: of the greatest quarterbacks
Princeton ever had.”
“No,’’ Mary said. "1 didn't
know that.”
"He was," Lddie Tolliver said.
"He was captain and quarterback
and he made the All-America.
And when he graduated he
wasn't through. I don't meau he
wasn’t through with football.
Of course he was. I mean he
wasn't finished. So many good
football players go in for selling
bonds and are never heard of
again.”
• "But Jot Lawrence weut right
on being a hero.” Mary said
wickedly. “A sort of Richard
Harding Davia hero—like Clay
in Soldiers of Fortune.”
"Exactly.” Lddie Tolliver said
“You heard about bow he flew
from Darjeeling to Thibet and
got that crowd out tbrougb the
mountains, with the natives snip,
ins at them every step of the
way and rolling rocks down on
them.”
"I don't believe Clay ever did
anything so grand.” Mary said.
No, Lddie Tolliver said.
“Clay wasn’t the man Joe Law
rence is. And Joe II go right on.
He’s just turned down a chance
to lead an expedition into Mon
golia.”
"Why did he do that?” Mary
asked. He hadn’t mentioned it
to her.
"We don’t kuow." Eddie Tol
liver said. ”B»t we’ve all been
kidding him about it. We’ve all
guessed that you’re the reason.”
■ ]\ TE?" Mary said. She smiled
1 A at Eddie Tolliver.
Eddie Tolliver grinned back
Yes," he said, “and l hope you
won’t think I’m fresh if 1 sa>
you’re the only one I ever saw
him with that 1 thought was in
his class.”
"I do think you re fresh.*’
Mary Burleigh said. "But I’m
so fluttered I don’t mind.’*
“! knew you were all right,”
Eddie Tolliver said.
Mary felt better when Joe
Lawrence came to claim her. She
felt so much better she almost
forgave him. She didn't want
to be mean. And she had to be
mean.
“How do you like the party?”
he asked as they danced.
“It’s a grand party and if
there’s any better orchestra in
New York I’ve never heard it
and your cousin Eddie Tolliver
is the nicest boy I’ve met in a
long time.”
"But'*’ Joe Lawrence said.
"I don’t like your frieuds.”
Mary Burleigh said She almost
gasped when she realized what
she had gaid. She had never
said anything like that in her
life. She was too well brought
up.
It i # a All • ■
.I" IUI . JUC La«t n -
rente asked.
She eouldn't very well say she
didn’t like the hussy. Joe Law
rence would think she was
jealous.
’’The big coarse man in the
bartender's jacket.”
"Don't you know who he is?"
Joe Lawrence asked.
"I don t care who he Is.” Mary
Burleigh said "I think he's
ugly.”
"He isn't handsome,” Joe Law.
rence said. "But he's an awfully
nice fellow. l like him im
mensely. **
"I «an t imagine liking such a
man.” Mary Burleigh said. "I
think he's rather horrible.”
Joe Lawrence swung her
around and out of a doorway to
the veranda. He led the way
down the path toward the lake.
"What's the matter. Mary?”
he asked gently.
"Nothing’s the matter.” she
said, trying to speak gravely
and quietly, as if she weren't
angry. Sh«» didn't wish to he
angry. An 1 vet she was. She
was furious. And she was bound
to make him ane*-y.
"But something is.” he said.
"Something's awfully wrong.”
"Nothing is wrong." Mar)
by Lucian Cary
I
said, "except that we aren't
agreed about your friend in the
bartender s jacket."
""Dl'T you don’t know him,” Joe
Lawrence said. “You've
never met him.”
"I don’t ever wish to meet
him,” Mary said. "I can see by
his face that he’s a coarse,
brutal, vulgar man without any
of the finer sensibilities. lie may
be a good bartender but he’s not
a man I wish to know.”
"Really, Mary," Joe Lawrence
said. ”vou don t imagine that you
can tell what a man is like by
one look at him across a room."
"Naturally I think 1 can.”
Mary said. "His character is
written all over him.”
“My dear." Joe Lawrence said,
"you’re mistaken. He may look
coarse and vulgar to you but
that’s only because you dou’t
know him. As a matter of fact
he's an uncommonly sympathetic
and understanding and gifted
person.”
"Understanding!”* Mary cried.
She was astounded at the animus
in her voice. She knew she was
deliberately picking a quarrel
with the man she loved And
you flirted very well and I was
amused aud a little interested.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
‘‘Now Ini through I really
don't care for flirtation. I think
1 do aud then when 1 try it 1
don't.”
“Mary.” Joe U»reiue said,
and his voice had a throb in it.
"you know 1 love you. You
know I was utterly serious.”
“I'm awfully, awfully sorry.”
Mary said. "Because I wasn’t
serious. And now I really must
be going on."
She turned and walked bat k
toward the house. He didn't fol
low her. He stood there looking
after her. She couldn't stop.
She had to walk right on. She
was appalled at what she had
done and bitterly determined to
go on doing it.
She found Eddie Tolliver in
the living-room. She beckoned
to him. Eddie Tolliver dashed
over.
“i know 1 can trust you." she
said. "I've got to leave without
f !
far as Westport. She took the
ahotc road tor hotue. She knew
sh- bad been a fool. And she
couldn’t stop be n0 a fool. Sbt
had lost Joe Lawrence and he*
heart was broken tnd she wa.
glad. She went ra ring down the
shore road, traveling faster than
she had ever traveled in a it
before.
She stopped s ort in Fairport.
She was going home, of course
.* nd how would she explain**
What eouto -he tell them?
She -at there thinking and
while she sat a flivver went b>
her at top speed She looked
up. The flivver slowed down
with a squeal of brakes am*
turned around and tame back.
There were two policemen in ft.
Une of them jumped out and
came forward with a flashlight
in his hand
“Whoseear is this?" be asked.
“It belongs to a friend of
iiyne.” Mary said.
“Let's see your driving li
cense."
I
“'<*11 might try to harn the perfect I*
oh* Ions cliflorom-e hro*f»*n a l««1* amt
a woman crook.”
she couldn't stop. "Giltcd!”
"But he is,” Joe Lawrence
said "lie's not awfully sociable
and he's not the kind of man
who'd ever be the life of the
party. But he's extremely un
derstanding and gifted. I've
never met a mau I'd rather talk
to if I were troubled.”
“After all.” Mary said. * I ve
seen him. If 1 hadn't you might
convince nie.”
“But. Mary,” Joe Lawrence
said, “surely you know >ou can’t
judge people by their looks —
you never can tell.”
The more reasonable he was
the more determined Mary was
to make him angry.
“Of course you can.’* Mary
said. "Anybody can tell by look
ing at you that you’re a profes
sional hero. You couldn't exist
if you couldn’t hear the cheer
ing section. You're a horn
matinee idol."
"I'm awfully sorry if that’s
what you think of me," Joe Law.
rence said.
*'TT is,” Mary cried. "You re
A the perfect book for hoys.
You're Frank Merriwell in per
son.”
Joe Lawrence took both her
hands in his. “Mary." he said,
"wbat a the matter? Something
has happened that you aren’t
telling me. Won’t you come
across*"
"Yes." she said. "I will. I
don’t like you. 1 can't say I
hate you because that's .00
strong a word. I'm merely bored.
Completely, terribly bored.”
“Mary.” he said, "don’t you
remember the other night?"
"Oh. yes.” she said, “of course
I remember it You kissed me."
"I told you I loved you,” Joe
Lawrence said.
"I didn't take you too .seri
ously." Mary s»«i.| "If | had I
shouldn't liave *••« - ,,rr
aunt » invitation But 1 tii ■ t
anybody's knowing it."
"I'll go and get Joe,” Eddie
Tolliver said.
‘‘No.’* she said. “Joe mustn't
know—either.”
Eddie looked at her gravely.
He swallowed hard. "J-j-just as
you say." he said. "You can
take my car—it’s a Rinaldo road
ster and it's standing way out
in the drive.”
O you suppose you could get
— my things into it without
anybody's noticing?”
Eddie Tolliver shook his head
“Everybody's noticing you to
night.” he said. “I'm afraid I
couldn't. I'll drop them out of
the window if you say so hut
1 m afraid I might get caught.*'
"Never mind.” Mary said "I
can send for my things. But 1
need a coat.”
"There's a topcoat in the car."
Eddie Tolliver said.
Alary nodded They walked
out of the house and down the
drive. Eddie put her in the car
and showed her where the
switches were.
Alary pushed the starter. Eddie
Tolliver leaned in "Listen." lie
said, “isn't there anything 1 can
do?”
"No." she said. "You’ve done
the perfect thing.”
But what'll l say to Joe?”
“Anything you like except the
truth." Mary said.
"I—(—I’m afraid I can't lie to
Joe.” Eddie Tolliver said.
Alary put the car in gear.
"Then.” she said, “tell him I've
gone home." Hie waved her
hand and put her foot down on
the accelerator. The car shot
down the drive.
Out on the open road she al
i'ii' ' charged her mind. But she
didn't. Hie pressed the p dul
down age in* • the Peer ' ards :n
-t' til and ar’rl.v turn’d over ou
a c»irv!».
I* 1' "• t < h to tj;,i*> as
*'l — I haven i n with me,”
Mary said
"Let* see the certificate of
registration.”
Mary hunted iu the door pock.
et<s. She found nothing. “I
suppose.” she said, “it's under
the seat.”
“All right,” the policeman
said
Mary got out and the police
man lifted up the scat. The cer
tificate wasn't there. He lifted
up the rumble and peered with
in.
"VY bat s 111 the keg?" he asked.
“I don’t know.” Mary said.
“You wouldn't.” the police
man said.
TTK got a wremh and knocked
the bung out of the keg and
leaned over and sniffed. “Apple
jack.” be said.
He hunted around in the rum
ble and dragged out a cloth sack
full of cold chisels- -all new and
shining; and some kind of drill
press; and a wooden case full of
drills.
"It's her all right." he sadd
‘'Sure,” said the other police
man.
“All right. Sadie,” the police
man with the flashlight said.
"Let s go and see the sergeant “
He bowed Mary into the car.
took the wheel, and drove on.
The flivver followed at a distance
of five yards.
They stopped at the Fairport
police station and walked into a
hare room furnished with a
bench and a desk. A young man
in uniform sat at the desk, play
ing with a kitten.
“Here she is. sergeant." the
first policeman 'aid “Kinaldo
roadster and all.”
The young man turned and
surveyed Mary. "Ail right.” he
>afd to the two policemen, "lock
her up.”
Tli tr.n policen:ea look her by
llit Jl .it
"What's the charge?" Alary
asked.
"Reckless dri/tng." the first
policeman said. "Driving with
out an operator's license. Driv
ing a car without a certificate of
registration — undoubtedly
stolen. Transporting liquor. And
burglars' tools.”
"Is that enough Sadie?’’ the
sergeant asked
"You're making a frightful
mistake." Mary said. "I’m not
Sadie "
Th*. sergean’ grinned. "What
do you want to be called?” he
asked.
"My name.’’ Mary said, and
paused. She didn't want them
to know her real name. She
didn’t went anybody to know
that she had been arrested, least
of all her father and mother.
The sergeant chuckled. "It's
all right with us." he said.
"We'll call you Mary Jones if
you'd rather. Only > don’t mind
telling you that New York is
looking for you. S*die.”
Mary swallowed bard. She
woudered if the family lawyer
could get her out—end be trusted
not to tell.
Look here, she said "Look
at me—can't you see I’m not a
crook?**
"We adroit you re a looker.
Sadie,” .he sergeant said. ”But
1 know crooks. Most people
don't. And they wouldn't see
what 1 see.”
All ngh.1." Mary said wearily.
“Want to call up anybody.’’
the sergeai.t asked
Mary glanced at the clock on
the wall. It was » quarter to
two. Judge Brown wouldn't
understand. He'd insist on mak.
iug trouble for the police and
then her father would hear about
it.
'■.No.** she lid wearily.
The sergeaut nodded to he
two .olicemen. One took her
by each arm. She ebook them
off. “1 can walk." she said.
She walked dow n a long cor
ridor between them. T'jey open
ed an iron grille. Mary walked
in. The cell was lighted by a
single electric bulb. There was
a cot on either side. A slim
young colored woman sat on one
of the cots with her head in her
hands. The door clanged behind
Mary. She sat down on the un
occupied cot.
The colored girl stared at her
with dark, sad eyes.
’’What are you in for?” she
ked.
"It’s *11 a mistake,” Mary
said.
The colored girl smiled a (amt
ironical smile—as if to say that
one expected sue1- a reply from
a white woman.
"What are you in for?” Mary
asked.
The colored girl raised her
eyebrows and shrugged her
shoulders. "I knifed my friend.”
she said simply.
Mary stared at the girl. She
looked mild. She looked young
and gentle aud sweet.
"What for?” Mary said
"He «as foolin' round *ith
another woman,” the colored
girl said. ”1 got jealous. '
"Did you hurt him badly?”
Mary asked
"Yes, ma'am.” the colored girl
said. "I hurt thaft man bad. Rut
the doctor — he say he'll get
well.” *
The colored girl dropped her
head in her hands. Mary sat up
right on the couch. She would
have to call up Joe Lawrence.
There wasn't anybody els* She
would have to call tip Joe
"How do you call the ser
geant ?** she asked the colored
girl.
"I dunno." the colored girl
replied, " ’le*« you rattle them
bars."
Mary rattled the bars The
sergeant came down the hall.
Mary told him she wanted to
telephone. He grinned and un
locked the door.
Mary got the Tollivers' num
ber finally, called long distance
and asked for Joe Lawrence.
*Tm in jail.” she said to Joe
Lawrence.
“Where?” he asked.
"Fairport/’ she said.
"I’ll be there In an hour,” Joe
Lawrence said.
"Please. Joe.” she said, "don't
drive too fast.”
"I won t.” he said.
THfc sergeant took Mary back
to her cell. She sat on the
act opposite the colored girl and
waited until she heard Joes
voice down the corridor. She
heard Jo« »av. “Where is she?”
4nd the nett moment Joe and
the sergeant came down the cor
ridor. The sergeant opened the
door. Joa put his arm around
her. Mary tat him.
They walked down to the ser
geant's desk. Eddie Tolliver
stood there with bis arms folded,
looking very fierce.
"Mary." Joe Lawrence said,
"the sergeant la a bit thick.
Would you mind telling him
your name?"
"My name," Mary said, "is
Mary Burleigh."
"What’a your father » name?"
the sergeant asked
“Addison Burleigh." Mary said.
The sergeant shook his head.
Tie was quite crushed . "After
all,” he said. ”we were told to
look for Shifty Sadie — in a
Rinaldo roadster. And this lady
was in a Kinaldo roadster and—"
he fumbled at a folder and open
ed if— "and there's Sadie’s pic
ture."
Joe Lawrence looked at the
picture and then he looked at
the sergeant. ‘‘And you thiuk
Miss Burleigh looks like that?”
"Well," the sergeant said. *T
don't think so now But what
about this applejack and the
burglars’ tools?"
"The applejack Is luiue.” Ed
die Tolliver said. "The tool*
are some things 1 picked up on
my way through New York tor
our shop. We’re repairing my
airplane.”
Joe Lawrence smiled. "The
sergeant is going to forget about
tbe applejack. Eddie." he said.
"The sergeant is going to be
awfully glad if n will lei him
forget tbe whole thing "
The sergeant nodded. "Y’eah."
he said. “What 1 say la let by.
g«nes be bygones."
"I don’t know whether we will
or not." Joe Lawreuce said. "I’m
pretty sore."
"Oh. Joe.” Mary cried. "Please.
He was Just as courteous ae be
could be.”
’’You see how me lady feels.’*
the sergeaut said.
"All right,” Joe Lawrence said.
"Well forget it this time. But
you might try to learn—just try
to learn — the perfectly obvious
difference between the appear
ance of a lady and the appear
ance of a woman crook—so you
won t make such a stupid mis
take again.”
J^DDIE TOLLlVEll took hi* car
and drove oft Joe Law
rence put Alary into liis roadster
and followed.
• Where are *p going*" Mary
asked.
Joe Lawrence stopped the car.
"Back to the party.'* Joe Law.
rente said.
But don’t they all know 1
ran away?"
-‘\es. Joe Lawrence said,
"they do."
"Then how'll 1 ever explain?"
Mary asked
"Don't explain. Joe Lawrence
said.
••But — but. Joe." Mary Bur
leigh said. "I want to explain
to you."
Joe Lawreuce took her in 'li#
arms and kissed her and she
kissed him buck
“Darling, ’ lie .-aid. and hia
voice was utterly convincing,
“don't you know I love you?”
"I love you. too." Alary Bur
leigh said. "That's — that's why
1 was such a fool—aud was so
nasty—and so childish. I wia
so mad about you and . . .**
She hesitated and Joe Law
rence kissed her. "And,” he
said, "you couldn t quite bear
to give up and admit it "
"No." Mary Hurleich -aid
wanted to make you miserable
—if I could."
‘ You did. Joe Lawrence? said.
She put both arms around hit
neck. * But you forgive me?"
Joe Lawr ace held her close.
And I was absolutely mis
taken about saying | could tell
what people are like by looking
at th m. And an>wa\, | didn't
especially dislike that man in the
bartender's jacket. I — the one
I really disliked — was that aw
fully good-looking girl that took
the cigarette out of your mouth
and smoked it.”
'She only did that for your
benefit. Joe Lawrence said.
‘ She# an old. old friend but
she's mischievous."
And 1 d like to meet the man
in the bartender’s Jacket. Joe,"
#be said. "I really would. 1
want to meet everybody you
like.”
You really ought to meet
him.” Joe Lawrence said. “He*
a novelist, but he’s all right just
the same. Mis name la John
Harkaway. Perhaps you've re«d
some of his books.**
“I — I have read one.’ Mary
Burleigh said. "I thought it
was really good ”
‘Cop,right I 111. Th. Kail S,.<Uc»t. I