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By VIRGINIA VALE ROBERT WALKER, Kee nan Wynn and others on the M-G-M lot were discuss ing plans for the filming of “What Next, Corporal Har grove?” when Wynn turned to Walker and remarked “Bob, you’ve been in the armed forces so long now that you surely must have enough points to become a civilian.” The crack was occa sioned by the fact that out of eight pictures Walker has made, six have had him in uniforms of the armed forces. In real life he was turned down because of defective eyesight. But Van Johnson beat Walker’s rec ord; he’s been'in uniform for eight pictures; injuries suffered in that motorcycle accident two years ago made him a civilian in private life. * — Keenan Wynn was about to be in ducted when he, like Johnson, met fate in the form of a motorcycle accident. He’s worn uniforms in several pictures. He and Johnson both wear cits in “Early to Bed,” Wynn’s first since his recovery and return to the studio. —* — Tommy Dorsey will star in a mu sical film tentatively called “My Brother Leads a Band,” for United Artists. It’s scheduled to go before TOMMY DORSEY the cameras some time during the 12 weeks Dorsey is on the Coast for his Sunday afternoon radio program. —* — Kenny Gardner, former singer with Guy Lombardo’s orchestra, now with the armed forces, has just received the Bronze Star for brav ery on the field of battle. Kenny, who’s married to Elaine Lombardo, Guy’s sister, is a first lieutenant with Patton’s Third army. * — There’s a myth that all you have to do to break into pictures is sit on a drug-store stool near Hollywood high school and be discovered by a talent scout. Lana Turner was, they say. And Ann Sheridan’s sister mailed her picture to the Dallas News and Annie became a star. But —Bette Davis, Ida Lupino, Jennifer Jones, and hosts of others worked like dogs before they ever heard the rattle of a contract. —* — After a month’s search and two weeks of screen tests to find just the right bathing suit for Jane Russell to wear in beach scenes for Hunt Stromberg’s “Young Widow,” the search ended—in Jane’s own clothes closet. Dozens of suits had been bought, a knitting mill in Oregon was commissioned to make special ones. You’ll see Jane wearing one she bought last year at a neighbor hood store. —* — While most of her classmates in the graduating class at Westlake School for Girls began their vaca tions, Shirley Temple went back to work. She headed for the Pacific Northwest and an extended tour of army hospitals. Her latest picture is “I’ll Be Seeing You.” —* — Laraine Day is one of Hollywood’s most enthusiastic collectors of 16- mm. films—her collection rates with those of Cary Grant, Deanna Dur bin, Lou Costello and Alice Faye. While working on “Those Endearing Young Charms” she acquired a print of her first picture, “Border G-Men.” She was 16 when she made it, and supported George O’Brien in it. And she was pretty good in it, too. —* — Twenty different government agen cies are providing material for the “Now It Can Be Told” series, broad cast Monday through Friday eve nings over Mutual. This is the pro gram produced by Dan Seymour which features dramatizations of material never before revealed. ODDS AND ENDS—Eileen Farrell it considering an offer to make a concert tour in South America. . . . Ralph BelTs had such training in gangster roles in “Crime Doctor" that he’s been given the lead in a new radio program, “Prof. Broadway and Boitramit deals with the same kind of tough characters heard in “Crime Doctor .” . . . Trudy Erwin of the “By Request” air show has a mascot—tiny diamond earrings in the shape of musical clefs; the always wears them when she broadcasts. ... Dick Powell is assembling material for a movie scenario based on haunted hotel—oddly *“—* ensttg%r, **’# dmrkmg 4r • detective chars meter that he’ll play himself. THE STORY THUS FARI A white colt I* born on the Oooie Bar ranch, high In the Roddei ot louthern Wyoming. Its color Indicates that It Is a throwback to the Albino, • wild stallion. Its sire Is Appalachian, a famous racing stud. A few months on the range changes the white foal, named Thunderhead bat com monly caUed Goblin, from an ungainly, awkward beast to a strong and Intelli gent animal, big for his age. During the winter he Is brought In to the stables, fed oats, and given a little training. Goblin Is sent back to the range again In May, a full-fledged yearling. One day he starts off southward on a lone Jour ney of exploration. He comes to the foot of a range of mountains. CHAPTER IX Another thing that had happened —a band of horses was grazing near the highway. A car passed, filled with noisy, ugly-looking men. Going up the hill by the overpass, one of them had shouted, “See that old mare? Bet I can hit her!” He had taken his gun, stood up in the car, and pulled the trigger.''— The section gang working on the railroad that ran alongside the high way saw the whole thing. They saw the man shoot, saw the mare leap spasmodically, then go down with a crash, heard the burst of rau cous laughter from the men, saw the car speed up and vanish over the hill. Ken began to shake in bed. A white colt in a band of dark horses— how easy to mark and single out! However, there would have been the body—they hadn’t found any body. There was some comfort in that. Goblin, meanwhile, was feeding in lush pastures south of the border. Though in a single afternoon’s play on the Saddle Back he or any one of the yearlings could run twenty miles and not know it, he had taken a full week to work his way to the foot of the Buckhorn Range. There was so much to see on the way. So many dells and ravines to explore. So many hillocks to stand upon, gazing and studying and sniffing—so wide a country—so many bands of antelope and elk. The grass in ev ery meadow tasted different. It was in this fashion that the Gob lin moved. After his first start southward he had just drifted. Now —here he was. It was the river that interest ed him. He had smelled it for miles before he reached it. He had never seen anything like it. It took him a long time to decide that there was nothing dangerous about it, though it moved. It plunged and leaped. It hurled itself over rocks. It tossed chunks of itself into the air. It was alive therefore. It had a voice too. A loud voice that nev er ceased its burble of sound. In cessantly, it talked, whispered, gur gled, chuckled. Having power in himself, he knew that there was power in the river. Facing it, standing there on the brink, he felt that it challenged him, and he gathered himself to fight back. In an hour he had accepted the fact that the river would not attack him. It ignored him. Nothing he did altered its course or its beha vior. He drank from it, at last, and the river did not even mind that. He followed it upward. It was leading him further into those hills which got steeper as they got closer until they sheered up, leaning over him. And the river was narrower, between higher walls. Its voice was a deep roar now. Occasionally, look ing ahead, he would see it coming down over a wall of rock—blue on the slide, a smother of white below. So it happened that he was stand ing on a flat rock, just gathering himself to leap to another rock in midstream when the thing was flung against his legs, so terrifying him that he made his leap badly, and was swept into the channel, and from then on knew nothing but the struggle to keep his nose above water and claw himself out. When he accomplished this he was some yards downstream. Even while he was shaking himself, his head turned to look back. What was it that had hit him? He must know. It was still there on the rock on which he had been standing, and it didn’t move. With- his ears alert and his eyes, fastened on it, Goblin went back and investigated. A foal! Not so unlike himself, ex cept that instead of being all white, it had brown markings on it. It was, in fact, like Calico, his piebald Granny. Goblin was shuddering all over. The foal had no eyes—they had been picked out. In half a dozen places there were bloody gashes— It was at this moment that he leaped to meet the flapping black cloud that dropped difan upon him from the sky. Huge pinions beat about his head. The creature was as big as he was himself. Goblin .emitted the first real scream of his life when, for a moment, the terri ble face looked closely into his own, and the great hooked beak drove for his eyes. Goblin reared and went over back ward, the eagle flailing him with wings, beak, and talons. Rolling on the narrow rocky beach half in and half out of water Goblin strug gled to get from under the crea ture. When he gained his feet, with the instinct of the fighting stallion, he darted his Head down to bite the foreleg of his enemy. He got it MIDLAND JOURNAL. RISING SUN. Ml). between his teeth and crunched. He was clawed by the other leg, his shoulder was raked and gouged. The beating wings buffeted his head ■like clubs. He held on. The beak struck him again and again. Blood spurted from his neck and belly. Suddenly it was gone, shooting straight upward, then sliding into the shelter of the pines. Goblin stood alone, the thin shank, partly covered with fine, closely set feathers, and the curled, cold, fist-like claw, dan gling from his teeth. There was a thin, bad-smelling blood oozing from the end of it. He dropped it and stood shudder ing. It terrified him. Then, with his insatiable curiosity, he must stoop to smell it again. Never would he forget that smell. It sent him up on his hind legs, snorting. His ears were filled with the sound the eagle was making—a furious screaming, “Kark! Kark! Kark!” He leaped away from that fatal spot and went scrambling over the rocks downstream, working ' M The creature was as big as be was himself. away from the river bank toward easier going. The eagle peered, from his pine tree. He sat on a bare bough, bal ancing himself on one claw and one stump and his spread wings. At his repeated cry of rage the woods around became alive with small, frightened, scurrying animals. His eyes, terrible in their far vision and their predatory determination, were fastened on the colt galloping north ward, a white streak down the dark brink of the canyon and at last a moving dot on the plains, five miles away. The Goblin used the speed that he had never used before; that had reached him, coiled like invisible, microscopic snakes, in the chromo somes passed down to him by his forbears. It was a great run. Next morning when the sun rose, the Goblin stood comfortably among the yearlings of the Goose Bar. ranch, turned broadside to the de licious penetrating rays, snoring softly in peace and blissful ease. It lasted for a week—the peace and the bliss. A week in which, as it happened, no one of the McLaugh lin family discovered that the prodi gal had returned. It was during that week that young Ken McLaughlin, in a fury of, despair over the loss of his colt, stood on the top of Castle Rock and hurled down the cherished stop watch which was to have timed the future racer. At the end of the week Goblin left the herd of yearlings and drifted south again. His terror had changed, as all terror should, into knowledge and acceptance of a danger; a les son learned. And those mountains down there exerted an irresistible fascination over him. He went more slowly than before. He spent a week grazing with a little band of antelope in a dell-like valley on the way. And he explored extensively on both sides of the lower reaches of the river. When at last he reached the rock where he had been attacked by the eagle it was near the end of July. This time there was no piebald foal lying across the rock in mid stream, no monster bird in the air. Goblin spent a half-hour by that rock, smelling and snorting, going over every inch of the little beach where he and the eagle had fought. Something like a dried curled branch lay upon it with a darkish clot on the end. He circled it, then seared and came down pawing at it. He cut it to bits and ground it into the earth. He followed the torrent upward until he could follow it no longer. It filled the gorge. Streams ran over the sides of the cliff to join it. In the crevices of rock were pockets of snow. The stream was choked with the spring floods. It pounded and churned. A dead tree drifting down was hurled tens of feet into the air. Goblin looked at the river a long time. He raised his head. What was beyond? Up there? His nostrils flared. The river and the rock walle were so steep and so high that he could no longer see the sky, only craggy peaks, and ever more of them. But up beyond all that was where he must go. Cows and horses are by instinct expert engineers and will always find the easiest way through a moun tainous country. Goblin detoured from the river on the eastern side. He had stiff climbing to do but there were breaks in the river walls and running with the brood mares on the Saddle Back had made him as sure-footed as a goat. Hours of hard going brought him at length to the last grassy terrace before the rocks shot up in an almost sheer cliff. The place was like a park with clumps of pine and rock, little dells and groves; and, scattered at the base of the cliff and on its summit, numbers of the huge smooth-sur faced stones like the one balanced on the top of Castle Rock on the Goose Bar ranch. "Sdme of theftriisTarge as houses and perfectly smooth and spherical, these boulders are to be found all through the country of the Conti nental Divide, creating a wonder in the mind of any beholder as to what great glaciers in what bygone age could have ground and polished them and left them at last hanging by a hair on narrow shelves of rock, or balanced on peaks, or suspended above crevices where one inch more of space on either side would have freed them to go crashing down. Goblin was hungry. He took his bearings first, then began to graze. Rounding a clump of trees he halt ed and lifted his head sharply. There, not a hundred yards away, close to the base of the cliff wall, were two handsome bay colts graz ing. Goblin was quiet for a moment, savoring the interest and delight of a meeting with some of his own kind. Then he whinnied and stamped his foot. The colts looked up. With in nocent friendliness they trotted to ward him. Being a stranger Goblin had to discover certain things im mediately. Were these mares or stallions? Where did they come from? Would they be friends or ene mies? So, just as children, meeting, .always ask each other, What’s your name? How old are you? Where do you live?—these colts exchanged in formation, squealing and snorting and jumping about. This was interrupted by a ringing neigh that came, it seemed, right out of the wall of rock. The colts responded immediately. They whin nied in answer and galloped toward the wall, angling off to a place at some distance where a ridge ran jag gedly up the cliff. And then, to Gob lin’s amazement, they galloped right into the wall and disappeared. Goblin galloped after. Turning the shoulder of the ridge, he found him self in a narrow chasm which split the rampart of rock and led some distance into the heart of it. There was no sign of the colts, but the passageway was full of the smell of horses. Goblin trotted confidently on. Suddenly there was a harsh scream from above, and the shadow o'f wide wings drifted across the chasm. As long as he lived a moying shad ' ow falling upon him from above would galvanize Goblin into terrified action. He crouched, backing, and his up-flung head and straining eyes tried to spy out his enemy. But not by looking could the colt see and apprehend the eagles’ eyrie, clinging to a ledge far up on the peak, with one eagle sitting on the edge of the nest, and the other—the ' one-legged eagle—drifting down over the chasm. Colts and eagles live on different planes. Only by the cold shadow falling on him, only by the scream, with its strange mingling of ferocity and sadness, only by the horror and shuddering within himself could he know his danger. He plunged forward, driving straight toward the rock which ap parently closed the path. But ar riving there, the passageway turned. He went on, zigzagging. He saw and heard nothing more of the eagle. At last the sides of the chasm sloped away, exposing a wider wedge of sky. And in front of him was a mass of the great boulders which seemed to have been rolled down the sides, choking the chasm completely. But there was still the smell of horses—Goblin went on. And a turn showed him an open way through— a sort of keyhole, roofed with a single great boulder which hung on slight unevenness on the side walls. Be yond, Goblin glimpsed blue sky and green grass. Galloping through, he came out into brilliant sunlight and a far vista of valley and mountain. Goblin had found his way into the crater of an extinct volcano. Two miles or more across and of an ir regular oblong shape, the valley was belly-deep in the finest mountain grass. Here and there, rocky or tree-covered hills rose from the val ley floor, reaching as high as the jagged and perpendicular cliff which ringed it and shut it in. ITO BE CONTINUED) SEWING CIRCLE PATTERNS Tailored Lingerie in Larger Sizes li ~...1 ■ I' in lij WM I V ■ I 11111' m ** if ii 1216 ' II Slenderizing Slip and Panties P SPECIALLY designed for the *-* larger woman is this well-fit ting tailored slip with waistline darts for a smooth unbroken line under pretty frocks. Built-up shoulder straps are comfortable and stay in place. Panties to match. • • • Pattern No. 1216 Is designed for sizes 36, 38, 40, 42, 44, 46, 48, 50 and 52. Size 38, slip, requires 2% yards of 35 or 39-inch material; panties, 11,4l 1 ,4 yards. BUOUSEHOID ininTs^ Check on your movements in sweeping. How many unnecessary ones? Eliminate them. Make a clean sweep in one spot before moving on to the next and be sure you get every inch within reach. —•— Old Turkish towels make fine fillers for potholders. —•— Never clean a toaster until it’s cool and the cord is disconnected. —• — Lace gloves will have more body when laundered if lightly starched* Press carefully with a warm iron. —• — Three or four thicknesses of gauze worked around the edge with crochet cotton is just the thing for face cloths, which are so scarce. —•— Rinse milky dishes in clear cold water before washing them in warm soapy water. £JGHT£R MOMENTS with fresh K Eveready Batteries vgtwL "Ift a little gift for the Sergeant. I thought he'd get a big kick out of it" At LAST you can buy all the . fresh, doled “Eveready” flashlight K batteries yon need! Your dealer -J \ SdlU has them now, in the size that fits \ ■■fOUHnttr your flashlight. \ n® 7 i-K ir MS, Naturally, they’re still on the \ / *sl lon C Mi* job with the Armed Forces and \ / j iaTTl*' essential war industries—bat \ it fs* g , / all- there are plenty for civilian use, \ So be sure and ask for fresh, doted “Eveready” flashlight bat teries. The famous date-line proves J B 1 that you get a jresh, jull-p&wer ■■*l 3 <4 B k \’J battery every time...your very ■ Bk m H k ■ ■> V M fl best assurance of dependable service and long battery life. The word “Eveready ” it a registered trade-mark of National Carton Company , Je. Ff f (1274 / ft 1 3-* yn. " ir ' Jumper for Little Girls A FAVORITE costume in every little girl’s wardrobe is the gay jumper that combines so nice ly with pretty blouses or soft har monizing sweaters. The stylo shown has a snug waist, ribbon laced, and the popular full cut skirt. • • • Pattern No. 1274 is designed for sizes 3. 4,5, 6,7 and 8 years. Size 4, Jumper, requires 1% yards of 36 or 39-inch ma terial; blouse, Hi yards; Hi yards rib bon for lacing. Due to an unusually large demand and current war conditions, slightly mors time is required in filling orders for a few of the most popular pattern numbers. SEWING CIRCLE PATTERN DEPT. 1150 Sixth Ave. New York, N. Y. Enclose 25 cents in coins for each pattern desired. Pattern No. Size Name - . - Address A Dab a Day keeps P.O*. away! (*Und*rarm Perspiration Odor) YODORfI DEODORAOT CREAfIt —isn’t stiff of atickyl Boft—it Spreads like face cream. —is actually soothing I Use right after shaving—will not irritate. —has light,pleasant scenLNo sickly smell to cling to fingers or clothing. —will not spoil delicate fabrics. Yet tests in the tropica—made by nurses 1 —prove that Yodora protects under try-; ing conditions. In fvbes or lan, 10c, 25c, 60ai McKouon A Robbing, Inc, Bridgeport, Coon. I