"TO-MORROW’S CHILD”

Manawatu Times, Volume 64, Issue 154, 3 July 1939, Page 9

"TO-MORROW’S CHILD”

Synopsis to Preceding Instalments: Val Clarke, engaged to Robert Greeley, of New Manchester, Conn., goes to New York. At Kate Hollister’s, a fashion magazine editor, her cousin, she meets Hugh Malcolm, playwright; Bret Gallishaw, New Manchester author; Leslie Crawford, Bret's stepbrother, Winifred Sperry, stars in Hugh’s ‘ ‘ End of Tears,” and Guy Williams, who inherited millions and has a small part in the play. Bret hates Leslie after losing a legacy. Leslie is jealous of Hugh’s interest in Winifred and the spoiled Guy resents Hugh’s failure to get him a better role. When Leslie is shot dead during a stage storm scene Hugh and Bret are suspected. It develops that Leslie and Winifred were married and had a child she had given into Bret’s keeping. Prosecutor Kellogg is baffled after Bret is shot dead in his seat when the storm scene is restaged in quest of evidence. Louise (Leeze) Cameron and Crandall Scott, of Washington, visit Val at New Manchester and Val’s Aunt Mahala orders Leeze out for smoking. Val goes too, but gets a wire from Kate, goes to New York and is able to clear Hugh of suspicion. Val’s personality had inspired a play and Hugh had offered her a salary to stay in New York. She accepts now. Hugh finds he loves her; she thinks ho loves Winifred. Kate gives her a job. Cran tells Val he loves her. While he is with Guy he is shot and badly hurt. Guy leaves in a ’plane with Leeze and Kellogg learns Guy shot all three with a pistol concealed in binoculars. Guy’s ’plane lands in Mexico, he marries Leeze, then is killed as the ’plane crashes.

When Val left Cran’s hospital room Hugh told her that Cran’s father wanted to talk with her in the reception room. Hugh had remained in the corridor, but the former United States Senator called to him and insisted that he join them.

‘ ‘Your ’re Crandall’s friend and you’re Miss Clarke’s friend and this concerns them both. And, frankly, I rather feel the need of a little moral support. The elder Scott was an orator of distinction, but this was something entirely new in his experience. His son had told him, quite casually, some weeks ago that one of these days he was coming home with a bride, that her name was Valentine Clarke, that she lived in a New England town called New Manchester and was one girl in a million. But then, of course, Crandall was very young and you didn’t take a young man too seriously in these things and ho had thought very little about it. Then, suddenly, Crandall had grown silent and sullen and there was* no further references to the charming New England girl and this, of course, was as it should be for young love is a tempestuous thing at best and one heart-break’ follows another and ‘ ‘ —so they grow up, my dear Miss Clarke, and life becomes something more than a succession of infatuations. A girl of your, er —intelligence will understand that, I’m sure.” “But bless my soul,” Cran’s father continued earnestly, “I come here and find him critically hurt, and the first thing he asks me is, ‘Do you suppose she loves me enough to marry me, Dad ? ’ . . . Naturally, l told him it would hardly be fair to make a proposal of marriago under the circumstances, but I felt sure you would be willing to come to see him and cheer him up and—” He paused and his lips essayed a faint smile. “I’m afraid I’ve gone into a good deal more detail than I intended doing, but—” Another pause, looking ae her gravely now, bending forward a little: “The boy happens to be all I have, Miss Clarke, and I am naturally more interested in his happiness than in anything else in the world. That’s why I’m presuming to ask you if—l mean to say, if Crandall should bring the subject up again and I could tell him, authoritatively— ’ ’ Val said in a small, troubled voice, “Cran asked me himself, Mr. Scott—a few minutes ago. Not in so mauy words, but I understood and ho knew I understood.” She watched Hugh splicing and unsplicing his fingers. The elder Scott, looking at her with anxious eagnerness, “The boy had the temerity,” he demanded with feigned incredulity, “to ask you to—marry him ? ’ ’

Val met his almost pleading gaze, nodded and said, quickly, “I told him I would, of course.’ And in that instant when she saw Hugh looking at her and gravely nodding approval of what she had done, she knew with the certitude of perfect revelation that love, the only real love of a man she would ever know, had come to her in an impulsive kiss in the foyer of Kate’s apartment weeks ago—and she had been too blind to see it.

Guy was not brought back to New York until Friday of the first week of January. During the previous ten days inquiries had poured into District Attorney Kellogg’s office as to why ho had sought Guy’s arrest. Wishing to prevent a spectacle such as the morbidly curious can produce, Kellogg and the police agreed that nothing should be given out until after the funeral Sunday afternoon.

However, hardly had the sealed casket been received at the obscure sidestreet undertaking establishment than the truth leaked out. The late editions of that day carried the startling announcement, that at the time he met death in an aeroplane accident in Mexico, “Guy Williams, New York playboy and heir to twenty-three millions, was sought for the murders of Leslie Crawford, Broadway idol, and his halfbrother, Bret Gallishaw, the novelist . . . ”

Hugh’s old friend Kellogg ’phoned him that a simple service was to bo held at 10 o’clock Saturday morning. “I don’t know if you or any of your crowd arc interested,” Kellogg said,

Instalment 28.

“but I thought I'd let you know. By the way, I called his wife in Washington. Her mother took tho call and gave me an awful tongue lashing. Said she didn't want to hear hor daughter's name mentioned iu the same breath with Williams." “You can’t blame her for that," Hugh told him. “I can blame her for giving me the old boy. I didn't make the match. What’s she so fussy about, anyway 1 Marrying Williams made her daughter a twenty-three-million-dollar widow, didn’t it I" Thero were less than thirty persons present at the funeral service. Hugh, Kate and Val sat together and though Val was constantly looking at Hugh out tho corner of her eye, he gave no sign by which she could know ho was even aware of her presence. When they were leaving the chapel Val suddenly touched Kate’s shoulder •and whispered, “I’ll meet you outside in a minute. Take Hugh with you." A moment later sho dropped into a chair beside a slim girl in a cheap cloth coat and a gaudy little hat with a noselength veil. “Lcezc . . . when did you come?"

“I came up by ’plane about an hour ago. I’m in this rig to dodge reporters and photographers. Where can I see you, Val? ’ ’ Val had been about to give her Kate’s address, but she suddenly asked, “Have you seen Cranf” And when Leeze shook her head, “I’ll meet you at the hospital in half an hour. Afterwards we’ll go to lunch sQiuewhere.” The casket had not been moved. Val looked at it as she rose and turned her eyes to Leeze’s again. Leeze merely shrugged. There was no sorrow for her, no regrets, no fragile memories to haunt her through theso next months. Whatever it was about Guy that attracted her, it had died with him and now she was a twenty-throc-million-dollar widow at an age when most girls are not yet married. What more, for a girl of Leeze’s peculiar temperament, could a girl ask? Cran’s rapid improvement was almost miraculous. For one full week he had hung suspended between life and death, and then overnight he had come out of the dark valley and begun to mend. The surgeons took the ciedit to themselves, but the head nurse who had watched the effect of Val’s daily visits held a contrary opinion. Cran’s father had gone back to Washington last evening—to return in a few days —with the positive assurance that his son was well out of danger. He and the head mirse shared the same theory.

“I’ve brought you a surprise, Cran,” Val said as she entered his room. “You’ro to let her do most of the talking. ’ ’ When Cran saw Leeze, ho grinned and took a hand from under the cover and thrust it out at her. “Did you a dirty trick, didn’t I, leaving you marooned on Christmas? But how was Ito know some mug would come along and fill me full of lead?”

Leeze kissed him and her eyes filled with tears. She said, gruffly, “You cut me out of Christmas dinner, you dope. Why didn’t you tell me you were going to get yourself shot up?” “What’s happened to Guy?” Cran asked. “Not that I’m anxious to see him, but—”

Quickly Leeze said, “Guy’s gone places. Ho hasn’t been seen around these parts in over a week . . . When do you expect to get out of this joint?” “What’s the hurry? I’m having a swell time.”

Watching them, Val thought, “They get along, these two. They understand each other and they speak the same language. I don’t belong to their world. Wc grew up differently.” Just hearing them talk made her realise that Cran was never quite himself when he was with her. “I’m trying to be his kind, and he’s trying to bo my kind and neither of us is succeeding very well.” Later, when they wero at lunch, Val said, casually, “You and Cran always seemed to mo ideally suited to each other. ’ ’ Leeze nodded. “We were, until Guy came along. Cran’s a peach. I suppose I’ve always loved him a little—even after he went into a spin over you . . . He’ll never get over you, Val.” And then, because she saw in Leezo ono last desporato hope, Val told her what had happened . . . “That day when I w r ent into his room I didn’t know the answer myself, Leeze. But even if I had known, as I did a few minutes later, I couldn’t have said ‘no.’ They thought Cran was dying. And now—” She broke off with a little shrug. “He put you on the spot, didn’t he? The big mope . . . But you can’t go through with it.” “What else can I do?” Val asked, helplessly. “It isn’t simply that I’ve promised—he’s really in love with me, Leeze. I don’t think you can understand what that means. I couldn’t—until it happened to mo.” Leeze’s long lashes came up quickly. “That’s right, you’re engage to somo boy up in Connecticut.” “No. . .” Val shook her head slowly. “I’m engaged to Cran, but—” suddenly dropping her eyes—“l’m in love with, a man who thinks I may be a nice girl when I grow up.” Her voice quivering with laughter, Leeze said, “Don’t take it so seriously, Val. There’s always a way our. I can’t do anything about the man you want, probably, but 1 can. find out what this thing is Cran calls love.” Leaving Val at the hospital after the funeral service, Hugh drove to the offices of Fleg and Bamsdell, Investigators, Fleg invariably held out hope of early results. “I put another man on tho case this morning, Mr. Malcolm,” he announced cheerfully. “That makes three and i they’re all good men and they ain’t missing any bets. If that kid’s alive, we’ll find him sooner or later. Keep you shirt on now and ...” Winifred herself opened tho door, ' When Hugh stepped inside, she put her

arms around liis ncek and kissed him. “I know,” sho said, “don’t tell me. They’re working day and night, but they haven’t found Philippe.” {She slipped her arm through his and led tho way to the sofa. “You’re a darling to go through this every day . . . having to get the same old report, and then come and face me with it . . . Don’t get settled yet. Kato Hollister called and she wants you to call her back.” When Hugh got Ivate on the ’phone she asked, ‘ * Have you any notion where Val is, Hugh?” “Why no—unless she’s still at the hospital. ’ ’ “{She isn’t. I called thero but she and Leeze had left. They’re probably having lunch somewhere. And it’s very important. Val’s Aunt Mahala has had a stroke or a heart attack or something and they want her to como at once. Tho message came from Kobert Greeley.” Hugh groaned. “That girl has had nothing but trouble for months,” he said. “How long does it keep up?” “There’s isn’t much left to happen,” Kate shot back—“unless somo blockheaded man breaks her heart . . . Call your head waiter friends and have them scout around, will you, Old-timer?” Hugh said, “I don’t suppose you could be more specific about that blocklieaded man . . . ” But Kato had hung up. (To be Continued. )•