STATION LOVE

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXV, Issue 12305, 20 April 1937, Page 4

STATION LOVE

By CKAIG CAKUOLL INSTALMENT NO. 111. Straight ahead of her she saw Dick Mason. She could not hear what he was saying into his microphone, but she knew it was the opening announcement. The words on her copy of the announcement danced before her eyes. "A new feature of interest to all intelligent women—something Cor every listener—a new idea everyday—" She knew the words. She knew that in a moment Dick's hand would swing out from his side, then down, and that at that moment she must begin lo talk. But it yvas so long. His arm would never move. Suddenly it did. His arm gave the signal. She knew she must begin. She caught her breath. She stared desperately at the script on the table before her. Then, strangely, it was done. How the eleven minutes of her talk had passed Judy Allison would never know. But she was realising, out of the. fog, that she had read the last word,of her script, and that Dick was speaking into the microphone again, that the red light blinked, that the operator inside the booth signalled something with excited hands, that it yvas 11 o’clock sharp, that the light had gone out. That the first day’s shoyv yvas over and done. Now she tip-toed across the studio, terrified for fear she might make a noise, still not realising that the studio yvas off the air, that in another studio a thousand miles ayvay another programme had been picked up, yy-ith-ont a moment lost, Dick smiled. “Walk quietly to the nearest exit,” ho quoted. Then 0.K., Judy.” “0.K.?" “Yes. See the operator signalling? What he meant yvas that your voice held up. Didn’t need any machine doctoring ajt all. It’s over, Judy. You’re over the first hill.” “I am. I really am!” “1 didn’t kuoyy you yvere going to announce the programme, Dick,” sh» added. He chuckled. "Neither did anybody else. They had one of the new men scheduled. But I talked him out of it.” “Dick!” “Yes, Judy?” “Dick, you shouldn’t be yvorking on my programme.” “You don’t yvaiit me around?" “It’s not that. Well, it’s not yonr kind of programme. You’re too good ter a little programme like this.” “Too good?” He laughed at her, ■‘Too good, you said? Well, maybe you’re tight. My public...!” lie atighod at himself. "Don't he sihy, itidy. No announcer is too good for n.y progrt’.mme, even it most of them h k they arc. And the more yvotk I do tile belter for mo. The more i earn. The more people hear Richard Mason signing off. You see?” “I knoyv, Dick. But —” He stared at her, puzzled. tnor-> Hunt a little hurt. And it was n'-iit that lie should lie Inn”. Jody 1; fc had got the job for her, ho yvanted to lie near iter as much as lie could, wanted to go on helping her by being there during eaclt programme. But she remembered yvhat ERou Day had threatened. Dick mustn’t take chances. Knoyving yvhat he had told her about the people who do* pended on him, knoyving that anything that menaced his job menaced his happiness, she couldn’t let him take any risk. She decided on another course. ' “Dick, It sounds silly, of course. But I’m so anxious to —well, lo stand on my own feet.” His eyes darkened. She could tell he yvas saying, “Yes, I see. You think you can get along without me, So. you don’t yvant me around any more. Yon don’t yvant to feel under any onto obligation. Something like hat.” Judy smiled at Dick. “I’d like to feel I didn’t have to Impose on you any more,” site said. You’ve done so much more tor me already than you 'tight to have done, Dick. Don’t yvon-y about announcing me. Don’t yen understand?” “Yes,” Dick said sloyvly. I underdevl. Judy. But—impose—” “1 didn’t mean that, Dick. When I try to talk I ahvays get the wrung words. I just meant I don't think I s fair lo yvon-y you any hmgi;" when you've so much on your mind ■!ff ady.” Having said that, she could have 'il tcu oil her tongue. For the dark ditch showed on Dick’s face again; the (lush that said, “I made a mistake. I told you a secret I'd kept from oveiyhody. And noyv you keep, feeling sorry for me about it.” Men love to have yvomen feel sorryfor them, Judy’s mother had said:, but Judy revised that rule. Men don't, yvant a woman to shoyv she is sorry for thorn. They v.-ant to feel she is hiding her pity. A great dil'l'erenca that some women never learn, and yet Judy yvas sure it yvas right. “Well,” she attempted now. “what’s next on your schedule. Dick?” “Oil—a dramatic shoyv. David Qyven is doing it. Smart director. He stages ‘Skippy,’ too. I—hello.• Harloyv.” A tall dark-haired man said. ‘'Bel' 10, Dick,” and went on into one tlio studios. Judy’s eyes looked i(uvclions, and Dick, glad lo talk of something new, answered: ‘‘Harloyv Mil* cox. One of the best announcers in the business. Does all kinds of programmes. You ought to .sec his fan. mail.” “Oh, I've heard of him, of courses He’s good.” “Yes.” Dick had none of tiro jealousy I’ 1 " stories had taught. Judy you in tut expect from actors. But then «i !e remembered he had insisted he tvasu’t an actor, really. Dick glanced at the clock.. Judy said quickly. ‘Tve got lo ?-’• Dick. I promised to meet Elsie fo f lunch.” “Oh,”- disappointed. Hurt a Ikß® perhaps. "Well,” he said. “I’ll stay hetL then. Got to yvork on an idea am* hoyy.” (To be continued!