Those Lucky Pullens.

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 224, 21 September 1929, Page 12 (Supplement)

Those Lucky Pullens.

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Mrs. Elsie Pullen, innocent and talkative, has been "cut" by her neighbours because of stories spread by Mrs. Hamilton, neighbourhood gossip. These stories follow receipt by the Pullens of rich and costly gifts from an unknown friend. One gift, unknown to any but Sam Carlile, who loves Julia Pullen (pretty and nineteen) is a huge oblong diamond. A reward of $080,000 is offered in China for the return of seven great diamonds, believed to be concealed in a lacquered chest. The Pullens. once have owned such a chest. A young lawyer named Parks comes to Mrs. Pullen, and terrorises her with threats to make her retain him as her attorney in collection of other "gifts," which he thinks have come from a. certain fat masher who is in San Francisco. Her husband hears of Park's visit, and wrathfully dashes from the house. Julia and Sara return at midnight to find Mrs. Pullen waiting. CHAPTER L. It took Mrs. Pullen half an hour to iell her daughter and Carlile the eventful story of her day. Interruptions were frequent. Sam 'blazed with wrath, and twice he started away to seek young Parks and destroy him. Each time, however, he returned at Julia's reminder that he didn't know where Parks lived.

"Beating 'him isn't the proper remedy, anyhow," the girl said. "I think he has tried to do something criminal. Hadn't I better ask Mr. Murty about it in the morning?" "Life is so hard," mourned Mrs. Pullen. "I did think Mr. Parks wanted to marry you, and now all he wants is to he our lawyer!" The worried faces of the youth and the girl relaxed, and they smiled at one another. "He won't marry Julia now, I'll bet," Sam observed. "Mr Murty called me into 'hie office to-day," said the girl. "It 'was after papa and I had taken the diamond to him. He looked at me a minute and scratched his chin, and 'then he said: 'Miss Pullen, you will remember Mr. Parke who used to bo in this office?' Of course, I said I did. 'The young man is no longer with us,' Mr. Murty went on. 'If he comes near you, I advise you to ask your father to throw him out.'" "Did he say why?" Mrs. Pullen asked. "Well, he said that Mr. Parks had been asking a lot of questions about me, and about' papa, trying to find out how much money we have. Then he asked ■ Mr. Murty about the fortune —you know mama, you told him one time that papa was trying to get a fortune." "My!" sighed Mrs. Pullen. "It just seems as if a 'body oughtn't to talk at all." She produced a handkerchief and touched it to her eyes. "Mr. Murty never liked Parks. He said so," Julia continued. "He says Parks is a fool, hut that certain kinds of fool are more dangerous than a smart crook, lots of times. Anyhow, Mr. Murty told him to get out of the office and stay out." An ancient clock stood on the mantel shelf, overlooking, the big piano, the couch, the 'huddle of armchairs, and the three people who sat in the doorway, talking. This clock had been brought by Mrs. Pullen from her girlhood home, and was the pride of her heart. Twice each week she wound it, standing on one of the chairs while she operated the key, and on these occasions she also would dust it carefully, while she admired the picture of a sailboat that ornamented the glass front. This clock struck four, as Julia finished telling of her conference with Mr. Murty. "Goodness," said Mrs. Pullen. "It's a quarter to one!" Carlile pr6duced a nickel watch, and compared it with the timepiece on the mantel. , , "Somebody's a liar," he said. "The hands of that clock point to twelve,_ it strikes four, and my watch says it's twelve-thirty." "Your watch is wrong," said Mrs. Pullen. "I've kept time by that clock for years. The 'hands are three-quarters of an hour slow, and it strikes three 'hours and a quarter fast. Mr. Pullen has always wanted to fix it, but men are so awkward about such things! It was my grandma's clock." She went to the front door and opened it, to look up and down the dark street. "I do wish Fred would come home," she worried. "I'm afraid Mr. Parks has hurt 'him! He's so impulsive—my husband is!" The hands of the venerable clock indicated 'the passage of another hour. Despite Mrs. Pullen's efforts to entertain him, Sam dozed in his chair, his head dropping forward (from time to time. Julia urged him to go home and to bed, but he sleepily declined, stating his intention to remain until word should come from Pullen. "Your mother's scared stiff," he explained. It was fifteen minutes of two, by Mrs. Pullen's method of counting, when the news of her husband's whereabouts finally arrived. The young policeman who had called upon them before was the messenger. "It's not Chinamen this time," he said, as he came in the door. "It's your husband." "Is he dead?" demanded Mrs. Pullen, taking hold of the officer's blue coat sleeve. "Nope. He's in gaol!" "In gaol!" Her voice ascended to a shriek. "Yep—pasted some young lawyer in the nose, and kicked him in the slats, down, on Market Street. An officer took them to the lockup. Tried to get you on the telephone, but your lipe's out of order." Sam and Julia turned together to look at the instrument behind them. The receiver was dangling on its cord. "I do believe I forgot to hang it up," explained Mrs. Pullen, rallying from her distress. "Did Mr. Parks hurt my' husband ?" "Barked his shins; I think—no great damage," said the officer. "Will —will he have to go to prison?" "Naw," he said, reassuringly. "'Probably fine him ten dollars or so, and turn him loose." , ■ "Will papa be locked up all night? asked Julia, anxiously. "Unless he gets bail," said the policeman. Mrs. Pullen, her daughter and the | young man looked at one another. "Not a cent in my clothes," said Sam. "Blew it all entertaining Julia to-night." "And I haven't more than a dollar or two," said the girl, lifting her purse and looking into it hopelessly. "I don't know anything about bail, anyway," mourned the youth. "I think.

I By MALCOLM DUART. —

you've got to put up property, or get somebody to sign a bond, or something like that." His words carried a suggestion to Mrs. Pullen. Without pausing to explain she ran up the stair, and a rapid banging of doors immediately followed on the upper floor. In a few moments, she returned, her fur coat over her arm, and a box pressed close under her elbow. "I'll take down my fur and the jewellery you brought that time, Sam. And, Julia, you give me your diamond and your necklace." "What for?" asked the girl. "To get your papa out of gaol with, of course. Let's see.'* She looked at the piano, at the new chairs", and at the clock, her fingers pressed to her lips. "I guess we can't take any of the furniture, but if we give our nice trinkets to the policemen, they'll let him out." She hastily got into her old coat, and set her hat upon her head. "Now you come, too, Sam, because if he's hurt we may have to carry him. Julia, put on your things!" The rescue expedition got under way. Mrs. Pullen, laden with valuables, had just swung open the door, Julia and Sam following behind her, when Pullen himself made a sudden appearance, to the accompaniment of a shriek from his wife. The coat, the jewellery and Mrs. Pullen's hadbag fell to the floor together. "Fred! My Fred!" she cried, and threw her arms around his neck. "I was just coming to get you!" He kissed her, and waved his hand to Julia and Sam. ! "All's well," he announced. "Stirred Mr. Murty out of bed, and he got me out. But—" he added triumphantly—"Parks is trying to sleep on a hard board right now.. He's in the cooler for the rest of " the night." With his arm around Mrs. Pullen, he advanced into the hall, tossing his hat into a chair. "Waited for that young squirt until midnight. Had his address dowh at the office. When he showed up, I crowned him —give him an elegant black eye and a bloody nose, and all he did to me was kick me in the shins." There was infinite satisfaction in his air. His wife clung to his arm as he sat down on the couch, drawing her to his side, and Julia and Sam came close while he gave the details of the encounter. "Funny thing," he said, as he reached the point where an officer had seized both combatants. "This Parks says to me— the cop was between us, holding our arms, while he marched us up street — 'Mr. Pullen,' says Parks, 'it will be to my advantage, as well as yours, if we say nothing about the cause of this trouble.'" He scratched his head, a wry smile on his lips. "Darned if it wasn't the truth, too. We don't want to have this scandal about the fat man aired in court, and Parks doesn't dare."

"Will we have to go to court?" asked Mrs. Pullen, in alarm. "You won't. They'll probably plaster a fine on me," said her husband. "But just as they were locking us up, this Parks twisted his head around, and gave a mean laugh. He yelled something about getting even with me—said he'd make me regret to my dying day. Wonder what he was driving at 1" (To bo Continued Daily.)