Those Lucky Pullens

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 200, 24 August 1929, Page 12 (Supplement)

Those Lucky Pullens

1—: By MALCOLM DUART

CHAPTER XXV. The fat man threw his clutch into reverse, and started to back away. The fenders of the two machines groaned, but refused to separate. "You can't dodge me this time," Pullen shouted, leaping to the running board of the grey car. A huge, thick, soft hand was thrust into his face and he staggered backward, narrowly escaping a fall. "Fred! Fred!" shrieked his wife, hastily coming to the rescue. The large woman in the other car descended to the street with surprising agility, and advanced upon Mrs Pullen. Her hands were extended, plump fingers outstretched and clutching. " What do you think you're going to do?" she inquired, making a snatch at Mrs. Pu Hen's hat. By this time Pullen had regained his balance, and now he dashed between the two women. "Get away, Elsie," he ordered. He turned to his wife's assailant. "Back up! " He took her by the wrists. "Let go my wife! " yelled the fat man in the car. He, too, alighted, and, circling his machine, seized Pullen from the rear. In turn he was assailed by Julia. With a squeal of anger at this attack upon her father she came up behind the fat man and took him by both ears; tugging vigorously. "You mean old thing! "'she cried. "You brute! " It was Mrs. Pullen who brought a pause to the battle. She had observed a heavy crank lying on the floor of her husband's car, which he had thoughtfully placed there in case his electric starter should fail. Backing away from the plump woman, who had freed herself from Pullen's hold and again was- making hostile movements, Mrs. Pullen thrust her arm into the tonneau, took the crank and brandished it. The other woman retreated. Mrs. Pullen followed, shaking her weapon. The fat man stepped back, letting loose of Pullen, but treading heavily upon Julia's foot. "I'll hit both of you on the head," threatened Mrs. Pullen, still advancing, and addressing her adversaries in a loud, clear tone. . The man and woman backed away until-they came into collision with their own machine, and there, at bay, they watched Mrs. Pullen and her crooked implement with deep anxiety. " You get away from here," said the fat man.

Mrs. Pullen motioned at his companion. "Is that your wife?" she demanded.

"Of course I'm his wife," said the other woman, scowling. "Who do you think I am?"

" Then I'm going to tell you something." Mrs. Pullen's face brightened with a smile of triumph. " This husband of yours came to my hou?e and tried to kiss me! " " Huh ? " The stout woman's eyebrows lifted. "I say he came to my house, and tried to make love to me," repeated Mrs. Pullen. "If he did, he was crazy," said the other. The triumph in Mrs. Pullen's face was succeeded by'a flush of wrath. "Hβ did so," she declared. " And he tried to pick up my daughter, Julia, on the street! " " That oughtn't to be hard," observed ■ the stout woman. At this juncture Pullen hit the fat man on the nose.. " You people can't talk scandal about my wife and daughter," ho panted, making ready for a fresh onslaught. Mrs. Pullen's automobile crank, however, with its reinforcement by Pullen's fist was too much for the fat man. He folded hi? arms across his face and owered his head, resigning himself to his fate. Pullen's hand dropped slowly to his side. " Your husband is a pig," Mrs. Pullen resumed, still using her weapon in a threatening manner. "He rambles around all the time, trying to pick up other I women in his machine. Since I've seen you I don'fc blame him so much," she added, vengcfnllv. . "Pooh," said the stout woman. Feeling behind her she located the handle or the car door and, still with her face to war J entGred the vcllide back '' "Get in, Joe," she ordered. I Herhusband obeyed. After a moment's straining Ins car pulled itself dear, with without f\° f tJ , le injUrecl an j^J:; kms back the stout c -p*i Mrs. Pullen restored the crank to the' place where she had found it and climbed into the rear seat of the sedan. "I'll bet Hlie II snatch him bahlheaded," she said as lullen and Julia followed her into tin car. "I'll bet he doesn't get a wink of sleep to-night. Flirting with women!" Her bosom heaved with pleasure. "Sending us gifts—why, Fred! I'll bet that fat 1 man never gave us this machine at all' I Nor the coat, nor anything!" ! ( "Of course he didn't," Pullen said, get ting the car under way. "Then," she inquired dramatically, "who did ?" J The question remained unanswered. Pullen turned the machine toward home, the crumpled left fender gently drumming against the tyre upon which it was pressed. Through the remainder of the ride Mrs. Pullen entertained herself and family with conjectures as to what the fat man's wife would say to Mm, and how he would reply. "And Julia," she said, "you did real splendidly, pulling his ears the way you did." "I'm glad there wasn't anybody there to see it," answered her daughter. "Wouldn't it have been terrible if a crowd had come and seen us lighting with those dreadful people?" "Julia, there's nothing to be ashamed of in fighting for your rights," declared Mrs. Pullen. "Don't ever forget that your father used to be in the National Guard. You're a soldier's daughter, Julia." Night was falling when they arrived in Pasadena. "First tiling," Mrs. Pullen said, bustling pjj the steps of their home, "is to get the sandwiches made and set the table." She unlocked the door. "You get an apron on, Julia, and Fred, you get one on, too. You cut the bread —you'd better cut it, Julia. Your father always makes the slices too thick." "Are we going to have sandwiches for supper?" Pulleu inquired. "For supper! They're for my tea tomorrow," said his wife. "You just pick up whatever you can find for supper." She rolled up her sleeves, and without removing her hat slipped a huge apron over her dress. "I'll put my new lace cloth on the table and put those candlesticks on that you bought, Julia. Then

I'll spread the sandwiches them in a damp cloth, and soft to-morrow."

We'll just roll They'll be nice

"Aren't we going to eat supper?" per sisted her husband.

She planted her knuckles on her hips. "Haven't I enough to do as it is without getting supper ready? You rummage around. There's plenty to eat in the house, and it won't hurt you if it is cold."

She had mixed the filling of the sandwiches early in the day. A great yellow bowl was filled with a compound of minced chicken, olives, egg and mayonnaise. While Mrs. Pullen fussed with the arrangement of the table, Julia completed the sandwiches, cutting them into various shapes —hearts and triangles, circles and diamonds. When this was done, the girl washed a dozen lemons and stowed them in the refrigerator, for use with the morrow's tea. Her mother was examining her napkins, to see if any of them were frayed. "Come here, Julia, and help," she called. The girl entered the dining room. "See if any of them new cups and saucers are nicked," Mrs. Pullen commanded. "Where's your father? I never saw a man that was any help yet.!' "He was in the kitchen a little while ago," said Julia. Mrs. Pullen started, dropping the little heap of napkins. "I'll bet—" she said, and breathlessly hurried into the living room. "Fred Pullen, how many of those sandwiches have you eaten?" she demanded. He was sprawled in his armchair, comfortably, munching a doubled bit of bread and chicken salad. "Four or five," he said. "They're real nice, Elsie." "Nice!" she cried. "Of course they're nice! What do you mean by eating the refreshments for my party? Oh, oh, oh!" She sped into the kitchen. Presently her lamentations died away, and she returned. "He's eaten a lot of them," she told her daughter, "but I guess there'll be enough. We have ninety left." "For a dozen women, it'll be plenty," Julia said. "And then there are the little cakes. We'll ice those to-nitrht, too," Mrs. Pullen said. "And what with the candy you got and all, they ought to have plenty to eat. It be*s all, though, how a crowd of women'll stuff themselves, when they get to talking. They just seem to forget their figures entirely. No wonder they get fat." Julia was thoughtfully sorting the small cakes. "Mama," she said, "a young man has asked if ho can call to-morrow night." "On you?" Mrs. Pullen showed surprise. "Is it Sam Carlile?" "No—another fellow. But, mama, I don't want him to come." CHAPTER XXVI.

"Every girl should be proud and glad when a young man wants to call on her," declared Mrs. Pullen. "It's a compliment, Julia. Who is the gentleman?" "It's Mr. Parks, who works down at the law office."

Mrs. Pullen thoughtfully sifted a package of confectioners' sugar into a pan. "It's bad luck, they always say, for a. girl to keep the same initials when she marries," said she. " 'Pulleu' starts with a.'p' and so does 'Parks.'"

"Goodness, he hasn't asked .me to marry him," Julia retorted.

"But he will; I have the feeling that he will. It's uncanny how, my intuitions come true, Julia." The mother was stirring a cupful of lemon juice into her pan of sugar. "What does he do down at the office?" "He's just a young lawyer. They hire him to run around with papers, and collect bills." Mrs. Pullen poured water into the pan, which she now shoved over a burner on the stove. "I've seen pictures of some of the big judges," said she, "with black silk gowns on. Do judges get very large salaries, Julia?" "I don'fc know. But it'll be a long time before Mr. Parks gets to be a judge. The men down at the office yell at him, and call him 'boy' sometimes when they want him to come —just to tease him, you know. My boss is the junior partner, and he calls him 'Willy.'" "That shows they are fond of him," pronounced Mrs. Pullen. "It's the strangest thing! Only this morning, before I got up, I was thinking what kind of a wedding I'd have when you get married. You can believe me or not, Julia, but I decided on every detail —your dress and everything! Arid now here this man comes the vqry next day. It's positively uncanny!" "Say." This was Pullen, who had come to the door. "How do you get the way you are, Elsie?" His wife stopped her manufacture of icing, for the moment. "What are you talking about?" she countered sharply. "You're talking," said he, "about the kind of wedding you'll have when Julia gets married. Who's going to do that man-ying, anyhow?" "That's just like a man." Mrs. Pullen resumed operations on the cook stove. "The bride's mother has to plan the wedding, doesn't she ? Who'd do it if she didn't?" "Hasn't the bride anything to say?" he inquired. "Or the groom?" His speech had become a trifle thick, and Mrs. Pullen whirled upon him. "Fred Pullen, you let those cakes alone!" He dropped the bit of pastry that he held in his hand, and with his mouth full, retired to the living room. "You're trying to marry Julia to this young lawyer before he proposes," was his parting shot. "Don't forget the fat man." He shut the door, and lost Mrs. Pullen's reply. "Men think marrying's just a matter of a fellow dropping in and saying 'let's get married,'" commented Mrs. Pullen, sagely. "They don't _ know that there's got to be a lot of planning ahead of time." She had finished the icing, am now was carefully applying it to the cakes through a tiny funnel. "They talk about how jazzy the girls are nowadays —dragging the fellows out on wild parties. But it isn't really any different. Julia. Tt always was hard to get a man interested, so he'd propose." Her daughter was arranging the pastry on platters. "Mama, you won't say anything to Mr. Parks about getting married, will you?" "Hα!" Mrs. Pullen laughed cheerily. "I'know better than that, Julia. You can't catch a man that way." "But I don't want to catch him!" the girl protested. Her mother paused, resting the funnel ■on the table. "Julia, don't get a lot of false ideas. One man's as good as another, as long as he's got money an;l is willing to work. Has Mr. Parks go any money?" •'F don't know, I'm sure. He does ,1 ' get much salary, though—lawyers neve; , nav pood salaries to these yoiin*: fellows." "Is he nice looking?"

fellows."

Julia considered. "I think he is. He's slim, and wears nose glasses with a ribbon when he's reading, and has a nice voice. Hβ wants me to go out and dance with him."

"Just you do it, Julia," Mrs. Pullen said. "You're around the house too much. A girl should have some fun."

Her daughter's eyce twinkled. "That's what the fat man said."

And he was right, too," her mother declared. "I wish your father danced. I'd like to go to supper and dance, and have a gay time, out in society. All he'll ever do is to play .cards sometimes, and then he scolds when I talk—says I spoil the game."

The table was set, the 6andwiehes and cakes were ready, the new candles were in place, and the house was epeckless when the Pullens retired. Mrs. Pullen climbed the stairs slowly, being heavy with fatigue, but she was happy.

"I'll be so glad to stop that awful scandal," ehe said. "I almost wish Mrs. Hamilton was coming, so she could see my nice new things, and hear me when I tell the ladies about how she lied."

She was asleep almost instantly after her head touched the pillow, a smile of childlike contentment on her lips.

The day of Mrs. Pullen's tea was clear, and uncommonly warm for late

November

The father and daughter arranged to meet that evening in front of the building where Julia worked, in order that they might come home together.

Julia was waiting on the kerb when Pullen camo, just before dark, and she leaped to the seat beside him.

"Xew clothes!" she exclaimed, as they started away.

"I bought this suit last week," he said, "but they had to alter it. I wanted to look floeey if I showed up for your mama's party. Iβ it all right?" "Lovely," she said. "You're a regular sheik." He stopped the car suddenly. A honking of motor horns immediately sounded behind him. "There's Sam Carlile," he said, beckoning. The young man, however, failed to see them, and dodging through the traffic he disappeared. Pullen started on again. "Do you still like Sam?" he asked. "Yes, I do," she told him. "Going to marry him?" She laughed. "He haen't mentioned the subject," said she. "So I didn't eay anything, either. I've taken lunch with him two or three times, daddy." "Well, you suit yourself on this man question," he said, turning into their street. "I won't butt in unless you want me to." Night had fallen when they reached home. Pullen drew up to the kerb, and they alighted. "Funny there are no machines out in front," he said. "Why, Julia! The house is dark!" He ran up the stepe, the girl hurrying after him. He tried the door knob, but it refused to turn. Producing his latchkey he fumbled at the lock. Julia was holding tightly to his arm. "Elsie!" he called, ae he entered the dark hall. There was no , answer. He turned on the light, and glanced into the living room. The chairs all were in order, as Mrs. Pullen had placed them the evening before. The man and girl hastened to the dining room. As Pullen pressed the switch, and the lampe flashed on, Julia gave a gasping cry. Mrs. Pullen was sitting alone at the table, her hands folded on the cloth, her head erect, her eyee staring at the wall. Before her were the heaps of sandwiches, and little cakes and candies, that she had so lovingly arranged. The candles were wholly burned out. She did not move as Pullen ran to her, and dropping to his knees took her in his arms. (To be continued daily.)