WINGED YOUTH

Hawera Star, Volume LIV, 9 March 1935, Page 2

WINGED YOUTH

by FRANK H. SHAW

CHAPTER XV (Continued.) Since there- ■were no fatalities, the crash- held no news value, beyond the columns of the local newspaper; . and Grant Craddoc-k.missed-the curt paragraph which- recorded the accident. ■There had been no real news of Peter since Airs Grant was accustoming himself to regard his son as a monument of filial ingratitude. He had not exactly forbidden mention of his name in his" own home; but when Gwen did mention him Grant Craddock fidgetted, and, as conveniently as possible, changed the subject. When alone and unoccupied, Grant Craddock found himself at times definitely ■'hungry for his son’s companionship.- He might, he brooded, have behaved better over this affair. He had not asked his own parents advice when wooing Gwen; he had felt sufficient unto ; himself. Te be sure, the cases were "far from being parallel. Gwen would have honoured any man. Still he might, he felt, have been less arbitrary; there was no need to insult the dancing girL' so openly. “I. ought to have. approved mildly and then shown up heT faults,” was the burden of his i23*burrent thought. “Sickened her; eh? If we’d let him see her alongside other women he’d have noticed the difference fast enough. I expect I drove him into his rashness, if the truth be tola.” One trouble was- that Gorse Hill was proving to be a rendezvous for youth. Retired old fossils had suddenly developed sons and daughters—back from School, down from College, home on leavo from Navy and Army—straightstanding youngsters in whom their parents took pride. Peter, Grant Craddock rebelliously thought, had done infinitely more than any of these; and he felt a vague sense of injury because he could not reap the benefit of Peter’s fame. He would have liked to parade Peter before these vanity-riddled parents. “My son—boy flew round the world, vou-know, that record flight in a Zutro p u pl_» These other back-numbers would have envied him, made much of him in the golf--club house. Of course, he was treated with respect in that social sanctuary, he was Grant Craddock,- the Harley Street man with miraculous hands, but Peter, he felt, wouid have attracted these gay youngsters/ and thus have included his par-ents-’among the younger set, instead of allowing them to be merely the confidants of gouty generals and admirals who listed their symptoms as if they were' of vital importance and who listened to /Grant's utterances as to those of an oracle. Out of these confused feelings grew a fresh cause of grievance against Peter. How that- boy had spoiled his father’s wise plannings and hopes! He’d caused the bread of success to turn to dust and ashes on the palatp. Not Peter’s own fault; to besure —Grant Craddock couldn’t blame the boy entirely and solely—no,:, it was this gold-digging harpy- of OUmcmg 7 girl who’d bewitched the young fool. In all likelihood this Betty- person would presently find another candle; at which'to .singe her careless wings,; she’d follow the course of her kind «nd get herself involved, and Peter, might, be able .to achieve freedom; and then things could sta,rt again from- the beginning.' For the rest, life at Gorse Hill moved pleasantly enough. He always could rely h>n Gwen to understand him. It was as if, recognising the emptiness created by Peter’s defection, his wife was determined to more than 1 make up to him for his sadness. The war.m, affectionate comradeship between them strengthened and grew—in a Vay—hallowed. He was entirely unaware that she was responsible for the slow—very slow —melting of his hardness against Peter. If she had definitely attempted to screen the boy, to try to justify his madness, her husband’s detestation must have grown and mortified; but she considered Peter’s conduct reprehensible and said so; she approved her husband’s behaviour —to an extent; and having done so, deplored the headstrong stubbornness .of youth in general and left it at that.

CHAPTER XVI. - BACK TO DANCING. Peter and Betty were facing another crisis’. It was as if all his father’s prophecies were coming true with a rush.' Thanks to that last crash, Peter’s flying' nerve .had gone completely. Actually, a doctor called in when Peter got a little delirious after an embyro attack of pneumonia, had forbidden him to take to the air again for a while. There was not, he averred, anything; physical in the change —not-pre-cisely‘physical. It was mental. And if Pester persisted in flying he might prove to be not only a danger to himself but also to others. And though Peter Jeered to Betty, inwardly he knew the verdict was just.

(Author of “ The Haven of Desire,”etc.) '» ” 1 * l *'*’‘ "

He had had, he told himself, a nasty shake-up. It was not that his liking for the air was lessened; it was simply that he was scared. It wouldn’t continue—it couldn’t. Why, the entire future depended on his ability to keep in the air. He’d never given a thought to any other way of earning a livinglie was a one-job man. lie had a purely superficial knowledge of aeronautical engineering; -but any of the mechanics at the Zutro works could run rings round him when it came to a practical test. His value in the general workmarket was little; though in the flyingmarket he had always considered himself very much a magnates

The continued existence of all hands depended on him. He was entirely responsible for food, clothing, housing life. That was a hefty thought. And he had nothing but a shaken nerve to contribute to the puzzle of living! The managers of the flying-field were quite decent. They made Peter an allowance during his indisposition, on what they considered generous terms. Actually this allowance barely sufficed to pay the' rent of the furnished cottage. It seemed to Peter that the time was about ripe for an appeal to his father. The allowance made to him prior to his marriage hadn’t been riches; but it struggle. was enough to worry along on—with a “No; don’t,” implored,Betty when lie mooted the question to her, after a committee of ways and means. “We aren’t failures —-not yet. I’ll be blamed for evervthing. and knowing I am being blamed will spoil everything nice between us.”

“It looks to mo,” Peter said, grown qucerlv older and more sober, “that my pride is going to stand between food and you and the kids!” Betty wondered exactly what he meant." She said: “If you make up with your folks you admit you’ve made a mistake—and- I’m the mistake. And you did say that it was all on account of me that you made your big Highland got famous, and —well, we were pretty well off at the start, weren’t we? Pm not going to make a quarrel, but I’m all for standing on our own feet.”

Peter adored her for that. Bettj, spirited, was exquisite. During these present bleak times, too, she had de veloped a fund of self-reliance and commonsense; she was in reality a remarkable girl, having been moulded by circumstances. She was in no way piepared to remain a parasitical monentity. “So’m I,” Peter agreed. “The onlytrouble is—how?” He picked up Betty’s hand, and nuzzled it against his lips before placing it comfortingly around his neck. “I’m out of a job; and I’m like a reader who has gone blind. Or a sailor—a blind sailor hasn’t much chance of going to sea.” “ You can surely make yourself handy on the flving-field,” suggested Betty. “That is, unless you’re too proud to do it —no, I didn’t mean that; it was catty!” She was swiftly and delightfully contrite. “If they’ll have me, I’ll have a stab at it,” Peter agreed seriously. “And being in amongst the machines might rid me of this scare a bit quicker. I needn’t let on about my nerve going! and I’ll bet it will come back. It’s got to come back, if you see what I mean. “I can help, too,” offered Betty. “Thev’ll give me a chance at the Palais de Dance here. It’s going to be kept open all winter. They’re trying to make this place popular all the. year round, so people won’t spend their money going abroad. I’ve been making enquiries. I saw the manageress; and she said that it might be worked.” “I’d hate to think of you being a partner again,” objected the boy, fidgetting. His personal pride was involved, he felt. His jealousy was also up in arms. He got that jealousy about Betty quite often. She* was attractiv e much older men than himself found her so. He hated to see other men dancing with her, and when Betty" laughed up at them Peter always felt savage—really savage. You’d only to remember what some of those who frequented the Hot Spot said about the hostesses. If Betty went back to dancing, she’d be open to temptations by men who could offer her all he himself had given her at the start. And she was young, fond of enjoyment—he might lose her.

She read his fears as if he were an open book: “You seem to forget I care a lot for you, Peter.” “Even when I’m such a failure?” he growled, self-pity surging up within him in a bilious flood.

“More, perhaps, now that you are a bit sunk. You see, we can’t afford to be on top of ourselves,” Betty said. “Standoffishness won’t buy milk for Michael. We’ve got to get jobs where we can get them.”

“Lord, if I’d only thought, when we had all that cash!” moaned Peter. “I’ve been a prize idiot, Betsy.” “Well, we had a good time while it lasted,” was her apt consolation. “But I’m sorry for you. Of course, if you think you would be happier making it up with your folks —!” Put that way, his own altered circumstances seemed paltry; hardly worth considering. “We’ll have a mighty hard try at standing on our own feet,” he promised.

“You don’t mind if I do take-on at the Palais de Dance, then?”

“I might get some sort of a job right away from flying, since I’m useless for that,” Peter offered, not very convincingly. “You might, only, what could you do? To earn anything decent, I mean? Here in Scalforth?” It seemed wise that they should remain here. The furnished house was comparatively cheap, and there were not many temptations to spend money. “I don’t seem to be a lot of good, do I?” sighed Peter. “But it’s rotten to think of living off you, Betsy.” (To be Continued.)