CAREER MAN’S BRIDE

Bay of Plenty Times, Volume LXVII, Issue 12821, 16 August 1939, Page 3

CAREER MAN’S BRIDE

CHAPTER 1 It came in the afternoon mail, an impressively official letter. Stephen Hughes found it awaiting him that evening on the desk in his bedroom when he arrived home at his uncle’s country estate outside Baltimore. He tore open the envelope excitedly. The enclosed sheet bore the letter head of the Department of State. His eyes rapidly skimmed over the words:

. . , inform you of your appointment to the United States Consulate at San Luis, Bolivar, Central America, where you will serve as ViceConsul.

You are instructed to proceed to Bolivar immediately . . . Upon arrival at San Luis, you will report to the Consul, to he informed of your duties .... Stephen gave a joyous shout.

He was a tall, blonde man, trained lean and hard by an athletic life. He had a slow smile and cobalt grey eyes that, were sharp and intelligent.

As he stood there, rereading the letter, footsteps sounded in the hall outside, and a knock came at the door. It opened, and his uncle filled the doorway. Bulky, with florid face and greying hair, John Osborne at sixty gave the impression of vast physical and mental power. He was dressed for the evening and he looked the polished gentleman, with nothing about him of the miner, the roustabout and tramp of his youth. He looked and acted now like the man of wealth that he was. His eyes fixed on the letter in Stephen’s hand. “So it came?” he said.

“Yes- —at. last!” Stephen, exulted “Bolivar. Ever been there?”

“Many years ago. Not much of a country, but still a place to start your career. You’re on your way now.” “Thanks to your influence,” Stephen said. Osborne came into the room, lighted a cigar, and eyed the younger man with affection. Stephen grinned. A bond like that between father and son linked him and this uncle with whom he made his home.

“My influnce may have helped a little,” Osborne said. “But an American official in far-off Siam suffered an attack of indigestion. His indisposition made him offend a local dignitary, which embarrassed our Foreign Service. A shake-up followed. Men were transferred from post to post, and thei repercussions finally reached you.” Stephen had begun to change his clothes, “Still,” he said, “I’m thanking you. You’ve done a lot for me.” He pulled off his shirt. The muscles stretched like long fing,ers across his shoulders. Osborne eyed him with admiration and a little envy for his youth and strength.' “I’m glad you’re getting your chance. Play ' the game square, Steve. You’re going, places—places where a mug like myself couldn’t climb, even with money. You re a, gentleman, and educated, and you are going to be the man I wanted; to be.”

“You’re aiming me high,” Stephen said. “Don’t forget that my salary will be only twelve hundred a year.” “I’ll be giving you that much a month,” Osborne said. “You’re not going to be handicapped.” Stephen turned from the closet

His eyes fixed on the letter in Stephen’s hand. "So it came?”

JOSEPH tEWIS CHADWICK Copr. IKS bj ValUi Ft*tart Syndic* tg> toe.

with his tuxedo. “Why so free with your money? You’ve been good to me, but you let me starve my way through college.” “I had to test you,” Osborne replied. “You made good in the first test. You know how to. handle money.” “No.” Stephen regarded his uncle steadily. “There’s something else behind your generosity. What is it?” Osborne chuckled. “Sharp, aren’t you? Well, there is another reason. You can’t take a wife to a strange country on twelve hundred a year. Not Eleanor [Hayden, anyway. I presume you plan to marry before you leave.” “That’s up to Eleanor,” Stephen returned, frowning thoughtfully. Osborne looked surprised. “Aren’t you sure of her?” “Well —yes, I suppose so.” Stephen smiled. “Anyway, I’ll see her to-night and see what she has to say.” “Good!” said the older man. He moved to the door. “Well —see you at dinner.”

Stephen nodded, then stood staring at the door after it had closed. A frown returned to his face. Then he shrugged and went on with his dressing. When he had finished, he went to the telephone on the bedside table and called his fiancee’s number. A maid answered.

“This is Mi* Hughes. May I speak to 'Miss Hayden?” he said. “Miss Hayden is out,” came the reply. “Is Mrs Hayden there?” -“Just a moment, please.” 'After a ftause, Mrs; {Hayden's voice came over the wire.

“Hello, Steve! I’m terribly sorry Eleanor isn’t home.”

“I'm very anxious to see her this evening,” Stephen said. “Where can I reach her?” > He noticed a slight interval of hesitation.

“She is having dinner at Judy Van Arden’s. Then, she and Judy are going to a party somewhere. You can catch her at Judy’s if you hurry there after dinner.” “Thanks,” said Stephen.

Mrs Hayden said quickly, 'too quickly, “I’m sure she will want to see you.” “I’m sure she will.” “You do neglect her cruelly, Stephen.” He admitted he did and put down the phone. His frown had deepened. Any neglect was Eleanor's fault—certainly not his. She had been strangely elusive of late. (To be continued).