Those Lucky Pullens

Taranaki Daily News, 17 January 1930, Page 12

Those Lucky Pullens

By

MALCOLM DUART

A flood of costly gifts, including so’much fine furniture that it crowds the house, has come to the home of Fred Pullen, in San Francisco, from an unknown friend. .These gifts follow . -the ■ purchase by. Mrs. Pullen of, a •Chinese lacquered chest, which her husband. later sells at a profit to two Chinese. Mrs, Pullen is ‘’cut” by her neighbours- because Mrs. Hamilton, a neighbourhood gossip, has spread stories that, the gifts are rfroni a fat man, tavho appeaed earlier in the -.story. - An item appears in the-news-paper that a Chinese general offers 680,000 dollars reward for the safe return of seven diamonds, concealed in a lacquered chest in Peking that has been stolen and shipped to America. Julia Pullen, and her father and mother believe' that the diamonds may have 'been in the chest they sold. CHAPTER XLIIL ■ Even Pullen, not excitable as a rule, was nearly as. wrought uip as his wife. As for Julia, she danced, catching her mother by the waist and swinging her until they- 'both sank to the floor. “Julia Pullen, you let go of me!” commanded the mother, as soon as she recovered her breath.

They both sat upon the linoleum, the problem of the lacquered chests and the dishes forgotten, and canvassed the diamonds and the six hunded and eighty thousand dollar reward. "Let’s see,” said Puilen, checking off on his. fingers. “First, you bought the chest—” “It cost a hundred and twenty-five dollars,” his'wife interposed. “-—And then the young Chinese tried to come in—”

“And then he did get in,” offered Julia.

“I haven’t had a sound night's sleep since,” observed Mrs. Pullen. "1 vow and declare that I drcam every night of that young Chinese with the spectacles lying there on the floor, and people prowling around the house —there’s one satisfaction —it’s harder for anybody tc get in here and prowl since we've got so much furniture. I can hardly get through the place myself.” . “I wonder,” said her husband, slowly, “whether there’s any connection between tliose diamonds and all these •things that have come to the house — this furniture, and the automobile, and—” .“There is!” Mrs. Pullen cried the words triumphantly. “I knew it all the time. It wasn’t Mr. Murty at all who was giving us these things, Julia!”

The smile on the girl's face vanished for a moment. ‘T never thought it was,” she protested. ‘.‘Yes, you did.” Her mother mounted heavily to her feet. “There’s no use denying it, Julia. You did so! You haven’t had the experience in the world that I’ve had, and I’ve thought all the time there was something awfully mysterious about our getting so many valuable things. Just look at that diamond ring on your finger. Tell me who sent you that!”

Julia exammined the stone that adorned her right hand. “Do you suppose —” she began, but her mother interrupted. “I do suppose,” said she. “Whoever sent us these other things sent that ring, and I’ll maintain it to my dying day.” She had picked up the towel, and was sitting on one of the old dining room chairs, emphasising her remarks bv flourishes of the linen cloth.

Pullen was walking up and down, hands in his pockets, a little flush on his thin cheeks.

“It’s gosh-darned funny,” he said. “Of course, a lot of other Chinese chests must have come to America the last year or two —”

“But not with burglars running after them,” said his wife. “You know what the storekeeper said—they’d tried to get into his place a dozen times. Maybe a hunded. I forget.” The man stopped, and rubbed his hand over his forehead. “Just think—it may be that we had over a million dollars’ worth of diamonds in the house —it must have been that much, or this .Chink general wouldn’t have offered such a big reward.” “I’m glad I didn’t know it,” said Mrs. Pullen, gasping. “I'd have been scared to death. A million dollars!”

The doorbell rang, ani she hastily rose to her feet. “There’s somebody and 1 haven’t finished my dishes!” she exclaimed. ‘‘You go, Julia.” The girl opened the door, Pullen following after her into the hall. Young Carlile immediately dashed 'between them, waving a copy of the Chronicle.

“My gosh, people,” said he, without .preliminary, “just look what’s in the paper!” He shook the journal 'before them. “You remember those chests you had here? A Chink, general hid a million dollars’ worth of diamonds in ’em and wants ’em back!” “I know. We saw it.” said Julia coolly. Carlile's face fell. “Well, what are you going to do about it?" he demanded.

Pullen answered. “I don't know, son/' said he.

The boy glanced at Julia. “Hear what he calls me?” he asked. He flushed a little. “Did you hear it?” “Yes, I heard,” the girl replied, idly turning her back. “He calls the little coloured boy ‘sou,’ too—the one who brings eggs.”

Sam’s countenance was rapidly contracting into a stave of rage, when Pullen interfered.

*Julia,” lie said, “I want you to quit

this nonsense. Sam, she’s simply razzing you.” ’ “Don't I know it?” the boy asked, backing toward .the .door. “She. doesn’t mean it,” the man pursued. “That’s just the way girls act. As a matter of fact, she likes you.” Julia was at the foot of the stair, and now she mounted a step or two. “I’d better be going to my room,” she began. “I’ve got—” ‘‘Come down thundered her father. She hesitated, and at the same instant her mother appeared. “Fred Pullen!” exclaimed the older woman. “What are you roaring about? Oh—hello, Sam.” .. The young man was hanging his head sulkily, and fumbling with the door knob, but he gave Airs. -Pullen his hand. “Elsie” said Pullen, brusquely, “you koep still/* She gaped at him. “Why, I’m not saying a word,” she protested. “Then keep on saying it,”. he said. “Julia here’s giving poor Sam a runaround, and I’m trying to stop it.” ’ “'Why—” Mrs. Pullen began, but her husband laid his hand over her mouth. “Julia, come here,” he commanded. The girl slowly obeyed. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” he went on.

“No,” she said, apparently interested in the stair rail, which she touched with one finger as if to test it for dust. “Sam,” said the man, “she’s 'been moping around the house on the edge of tears ever since you and she quarrelled about- blondes.” Julia hid her face in her hands.

“Why,” said the youth, “we didn’t quarrel at all.” He had edged away from the door now, and was approaching the girl. “Did we, Julia?” She shrank back, her fingers over her eves.

“Come on, kid —quit being contrary,” urged her father. “You’re in love with Sam and you know it!” With a rush she fled past him, and ran up the- stairs, uttering a rapid, “Oh. oh, oh!”

“Now look what you’ve done.” said Mrs. Pullen. spoiled their friendship. I always did say that a man has no sense whatever about, young people.” - Carlile’s eye was hopefully fixed upon the upper landing, past which Julia had just disappeared. “I don’t know, Mrs. Pullen,” he said. “Maybe he does understand girls. I don't.” .’

“No man understands girls,” announced Julia’s mother. “It takes a woman's heart to understand another woman. Though you'd be surprised, Sam, to know how mean some women can be.” “Is Julia mean?” he asked, still looking up the stair. “Why, no,” said Mrs. Pullen. ‘‘She’s a sweet child. But she’s bashful, Sam. Won't you sit down?” She waved toward the couch, in the living-room doorway. “She has a' young man coming here —such a promising young man, but do you know, I have to do almost all the talking? She hardly says a word.” Carlile, on the couch, looked unhappy. “Is it this mutt Parks?” lie asked.

“Yes. He has such lovely prospects. He came to Air. Pullen and offered him a mortgage on Mrs. Hamilton’s house “Him?” Sam’s eyebrows lifted. “He was trying to skin you then. You’d have that old dump of theirs on your hand —her husband can’t pay the interest.” Pullen took the youth by the shoulder. “When did you learn that?” he asked.

“To-night,” said the boy. “I went home this evening—father asked me to come. He was worrying because I quarrelled with my mother. And he saw Mrs. Hamilton’s husband. Old Hamilton was around trying to borrow money. ■Said the interest on his mortgage was overdue, and he hadn’t been able to renew the loan —mortgage runs out this month.”

“Did you ever!” exclaimed Mrs. Pullen. “Yes, and 'his wife’s gone away some place—beat it out of town suddenly, and now she's writing him for money and he hasn’t got it.” “Poor Mr. Hamilton,” said Mrs. Pullen, with deep sympathy. “Fred, could you lend him the money? It isn’t his fault his wife is so mean.” “I don’t know.” Her husband ran his fingers through his hair. “Theirs is the oldest house anywhere around here. Sam’s right. It is badly built, the roof leaks, and the plumbing isn’t right. Contractor who built it ought to 'be in gaol.” “Sam!” called a soft voice from the upper landing. The youth started up, and beamed at the girl who stood above him. (To be Continued.)