Those Lucky Pullens

Taranaki Daily News, 13 November 1929, Page 14

Those Lucky Pullens

By

MALCOLM DUART

Mrs. Pullen, panting, sank into a chair, “A thousand dollars!” she sighed. “A thousand dollars! Did you ever think we’d have that much in cash at one time, Fred?” • Pullen himself was excited, a fact made evident by his flushed cheeks and glistening eyes. His manner, though, was carefully nonchalant as he leafed over the banknotes in his hand. ‘ Light hundred and seventy-five dollars profit, he said, tossing the roll of bills into his wife’s lap. “Pretty good bargain, buying that chest,” ho added. “You can go and buy another chest now and we can pay off what’s left of that second mortgage, and—” ■ “Fred!” said Mrs. Pullen. “Maybe wo oughtn’t to have sold the chests! Why should they want to pay a thousand dollars for two chests? You remember, there was a hundred-dollar bill in that new one. Maybe there was more money.” “Well,” he said, “I looked as carefully as I could. There was nothing but a scrap of Chinese writing in the first one, and I didn’t find any more money in the second one. We've got 1200 dollars in cash now, and—” “Eleven hundred,” said his wife. /‘I gave Julia one of those bills this morning to buy herself something pretty.” The giri smiled, “I’ve still got it. I didn’t buy anything.” “You keep it and buy something,” said her father. “You’ve got something nice coming to you, kid. And, Elsie, you take 500 and get .something that you want. I’ll take the fest and settle that second mortgage.” He walked up and down the room, his hands behind his back, a smile of deep pleasure on his face. “Things are moving nicely, aren’t they?” he said. “Money, ' fur coats—” He stopped. “Where in the name of all that's pious did that fur coat' come from, do you suppose?” He considered this problem at some length, Julia and her mother were counting over together the little wad of bills the Chinese had left. Pullen resumed. “i’ll bet that roll of money, though, we don’t have any moie Chinese burglars. That’s what they were after —those chests. There’s some mystery about that. . Wliere'd.you say you bought the first one ?” Airs. Pullen told him, taking occasion to tell again the whole history of her purchase. “Well, I’m going to see that dealer and get a little dope,” Pullen announced. “I’d. like to get some kind of a clue.” When the family retired, Mrs. Pullen paused at her daughter’s door for a short talk.

“If that stout gentleman does propose,” she said, “the way things are going your papa can give you a nice wedding.” Her daughter snorted in the gloom. “That • fellow isn’t in love with me, mama,” she said. “Anyway, I wouldn’t marry a punk old masher.” ’lira. Pullen smiled wisely. “When you’re my age, dear, you’ll know more about these things. He’s just shy —lots of men are terribly shy, Julia. But you’ll see! He’ll come around again.” She closed the door, and before surrendering herself to rest, concealed her roll of bills aiyl the new fur coat under the bed.

At her father’s urging, Julia accompanied him downtown next morning. “You need somebody to walk with you,” he said, “and since you’ve chucked young Carlile, you’d better come with me. Found any prospects of a job yet?” The girl hesitated, “Im not sure,” she said. “There’s one place I might get. I’d try to stir up some kind of work to-day, though—l can’t go without a job permanently. I’ve only got a dollar left out of my salary.” “Use that hundred,” he advised. “I hate to,” she said. “It’s really your money and mama’s. I’m old enough to earn my own extravagances now.” “Piffle,” he said, cheerfully. “You’re still our kid, aren’t you? And what’s ours is yours, Julia, as long as we last!”

Tears came to her eyes at that and she patted him on the hand. They were walking toward the car line, her arm through his. . “Black-eyes,” he went on, “tell me the truth about something. Will you?” “Do you like this Sam Carlile person, or don’t you?” She looked at him doubtfully. “I guess so,” she said. “What is it?”

Her hand slipped from, his arm. “Come on—’fess up,” he urged, as she walked on in silence. “I’ll help if I can, either way. But I’ve got to know what you want, don’t I?”

CHAPTER XIII. Julia glanced at him sidelong, her lashes veiling her eyes. Then she put her hand back in the curve of his arm. “Daddy, you don’t know much about girls, do you?” she asked. “Not a darned thing,” he said. “‘That's why I’m asking you. Do you want me to trot out this Carlile young man once in a while, or shoo him away.” She gave vent to a little “Oh” of annoyance, and then laughed. “Why don’t you ever wash, my face?” she asked, abruptly. “1 reckon it’s because , you can do it better yourself,” said he.

' The girl laughed again, and turned so she could.peer into her father’s eves. The look of faint surprise that first had showed in his face dissolved in a rueful grin. .“You mean I’d better mind by own business,” he interrupted. “The idea is that you can attend to this Carlile affair better, than I can, eh?” “Yes,” she said. “That’s what L mean. Oh, daddy!” She gave his arm a squeeze as she said it. ‘’Why can’t you and-mama let me alone —1 mean about men? Here’s mama making me ridiculous about that fat old masher, and you’re just shrivelling me up about Sam Carlile! Don’t you know that if I just Joved Sam to death you’re taking the surest way to make me run away from him ?”

“I don’t see why,” he protested. “But you’re the doctor —what you say goes. What shall I do when I meet him? Speak to him, or snub him, or hide behind a tree, or what? 1 went to a lot of trouble making friends with him again. He hung up the receiver in my ear, you know, that night you disappeared." “Did you call him up?" She cried. “Oh, papa!" “I called—but a Tot of good it did me. As soon as he found out who it was, he slammed the receiver on the hook so hard my ear drum was sprained."

“I’m sorry, he did that,” she said. “But when you meet him, just don’t do anything. Say ‘hello’ if you want to, and if he walks with you, dont shy away. But, daddy—don’t invite him over, and don’t talk about me. Will you?” ' “Not an invite. Not a word,” said he. Their car came, and the conversation ended, except for a few disjointed words across the aisle. . Julia reached home that evening before her father. She was standing in the doorway, her hat and coat off, when he. came up the steps. “News!” he said,, kissing her. “I ve got news! Where’s your mama!” “News!” The word exploded from behind Julia. Mrs. Pullen appeared, two red spots burning in her cheeks. “So have I got news. Fred Pullen, what did you do with that six hundred dollars you took down town this morning? “Paid off the second mortgage with it,” said he. “Why?” Mrs. Pullen leaned against the doorjamb, and passed her hand over her forehead. “Did you buy anything, Fred —anything at all?” _ x, “Bought my lunch,” he said. “That s all. What’s the joke?”. . . His wife straightened herself, and took him firmly .by the wrist. With Julia following after, she led him down the steps. The Pullen home was built on a .narrow lot, which it filled completely. Next door, however, was a driveway, belonging to their neighbour. Mrs. Pullen led her husband, along’ this drive, and back to a small garage, in which the neighbour kept his garden tools and hose, and lawnmower. Ine door was open, and through it projected the rear of an automobile much., too long to lay-its entire length in the little ■building. .. ■- , , “Do you see that car?” .demanded Mrs. Pullen. ' ■ ' “My eyes are good,” he answered. “Of course I see it.” “Did you ever see it before? Do you know anything about it?” she continued. He moved to one side of the glistening vehicle, and looked upon it with ad? miration. “1 never saw it, and 1 don t know anything about it. -Now, what’s the answer?” His wife stood, before him wuh her hands clasped . “That’s. our car;” she said shakily. . ■

“Eli?” / , ' ' - “1 say, that’s our car. It came tins afternoon,. A man. left it here. He said it was for us. Me said it was all paid for. The license is in your name. Fred!” Her voice had lifted to a wail. . Vl hat does it all mean, Fred? : Where do these things come from ?” ' . She was clutching the lapels of his coat and he patted her arm. -That car,” he said sohniily, “cost at least five thousand dollars.” He advanced: his hand, and touched the speckless glass of the tonneau with his forefinger. The car .was an enclose model, ouilt to carry five.passengers, and the thick upholstery, the trim lines, the long chassis, and the name upon the hub caps all spoke of luxury and expense. “I had the man drive it in this garage —the people that own it said we could put it here,” Mrs. Pullen went on. “But, Fred, I’m awfully scared!” Her daughter, who had been running her fingers over the pale blue body, and touching the nickelled rear lamp and fat spare tyre, took her by the elbow. “No use being frightened,” she said. ‘lhe car wonT hurt us, anyhow. And maybe the deal-r’s place isn’t closed yet. Papa might call them up, and ask who bought this. That would give us a clue to the whole thing —mama’s coat and exerything.” Pullen nodded vigorously, and a trot proceeded to .his own house, Mrs. Pullen with the new car, which she entered, following after him. Julia remained sinking back in the cushions with a sigh of pleasure. Julia’s surmise proved to be correct. Pullen’s call was answered, and he entered into a long cross-examination 01 the man at the other end .of the wire. When he hung up the receiver, however, he was shaking his head. _ “1 talked to the salesman who sold the machine,” he reported to his wife. “He says it was bought two days ago. young man came and paid cash for 1 a young man he never had seen before. He said it was to be delivered to-day sure, so we could use it Sunday, young man with a smooth face and a blue suit. Thats all he can remember about the fellow.” . . . He ran his lingers through his hair, disturbed. “Coats, machines, monej Chinese—this has been the blamedest week, Elsie, 1 ever knew in my life. Mrs. Pullen took his arm. ‘Do you suppose we’d better send the car back? Tell them we don’t want it?” _ “Lord, no!” He was emphatic about it. “Whoever gave it to us wanted us to have it. I reckon they could /allord it. But I’d give the machine, and that coat of yours, to know who’s doing this ana The husband and wife returned to the garage for a further inspection 0 new machine. Julia was ■ leaning ac in the tonneau, dreamy-eyed. “Isn't this- just heavenly? breathed, as Pullen opened the car dooi. Mrs: Pluleir mounted to a P lac e besuie her daughter, and Bullen himself s into the driver’s seat. He took the wheel, and moved it tentatively, easy,” he said. “Shall we take a ride l 1 think 1 can drive it-Pve driven a truck two or three times. r “No,” said Mrs. Pullen. ‘Not now. 1 don’t believe I can stand any more excitement. Let’s just sit here and Mnnk. Her husband was fussing around the levers and buttons on the dashboard. “More gadgets on.it than a locomotixe, he e«i<L “Sues. I’d better look tor the instruction book before, I take Might wreck the thing.” He detached a yellow envelope that was wired to the ignition, and ,tore it open. “Some documents in heie, h said thrusting his fingers into the open

mg. Then. “Great Jehosaphat!” He raised his hand. In his shaking fingers was a roll of greenbacks. “More money. What in the —’’ His voice died away as he held the banknotes toward his wife. The money was bound with a rubber band. Underneath the band was a slip of paper. “What’s this?” said Julia. She took the paper,, and read: “Here’s money to buy gasoline with.’ ” She held the paper away and stared at it.. “That’s all it says,” said she. Mrs. Pullen had taken the money, and was counting >t nervous haste.

“Two hundred and fifty dollars,”, she said. “And. a machine! And a coat! And two hundred dollars more!” She lapsed into numb silence, as she stared at Pullen, and he at her. “And the Chinese who bought the chests!” he added. “Oh, yes—that reminds me.” He twisted so he could better address the two women. “1 found out something about those chests to-day,”’ he said. “One of ’em, anyhow. There’s something darned queer about- those' chests.” With growing animation, he told his story. CHAPTER XIV. “I hunted up the dealer you bought that first chest from,” Pullen said, “andI got an earful." , ; “What did lie say?” asked Mrs. Pullen, holding her newest sheaf of money in both hands.’ “He said there was something all-fired funny about the chbst, from start to finish,” Pullen replied, “and he said he was blamed glad to get rid of it.' It seems there was a travelling man from Los Angeles, a friend of his, who went to China about a year ago and picked up some stuff, there and sent it back.' “Well, among other things, this travelling man shipped two of these black lacquered chests, just alike. Got em in Peking, I think, or Shanghai. This dealer got one of them, and some department store got the other. He thinks it was a store here in town,- but he isn't sure. He liked his chest, and set it up in his office at first. Then he moved it to the show window. “That same night the store was broken into.” , , ~ “Chinese, I’ll bet!” interrupted Mrs. Pullen. - “It was Chinese,’’confirmed her husband “The night watchman saw them, not anything. Not long afterwards, a and chased them away before they Chinese came in and wanted to buy. the chest. The storekeeper locked him in his office—figured he might be one of the Chinks who burgled his store. But before the night watchman could get there to have a look, the Chinese escaped. The man -ays he doesn’t know how he got out, but he did. They haven t seen him since. (To be continued.)