HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Herald, 1930-05-01, Page 2The quality Qf Salada is
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118
'Fresh front the g ardemse
The Step on the Stairs
By ISABEL OSTRANDER
that the latter was a comparative
stranger here, and we thought you
might be able to tell us where she
came from and who her people were."
A faint flush had come into the
withered cheeks and Barry could see
that he was shaking excitedly.
"Irene Venner," Barry prompted
quietly. "Her maiden name was Irene
barrows and she was visiting a scho 31
friend here—"
"Ada Johnson," the quavering voice
supplemented. "I suppose she took
pity on Irene. Irene came from
Wheatfield, and I. guess her guardian
sent her to finishing school as a last
resort to get her in with rich folks
and marry her off. Anyway, Ada
Johnson brought the girl home and
the trouble started•"
"Do you know anything about this
guardian of Irene Barrows', sir?" the
detective asked. "Did ; ou ever meet
him?"
"Yes, he cane on for the wedding,
but somehow I can't recall his name.
I remember the pian himself, though,
because I've met so many of his type;
hard -fisted, hypocritical president of
a small country bank. He died soon
after, I understand."
"Please, Mr. Scull; , it is time for
your drops now." A nurse approached
the invalid. "If the gentleman will
excuse you, I'm sure you have talked
enough."
The invclid teak the medicine and
roused himself . to peer at the small
car chugging up the driveway. "Who's
coming?"
"It is Mrs. Tyrrell," the nurse re-
plied and turned to meat the stout lady
who had descended from the runabout
and was crossing the lawn toward
them
"Ada on one of her duty calls!" the
old man grumbled. "She may be able
to give you more information than I,
however, for she was the girl I told
you about who brought Irene to Cleve-
land in the first place."
Barry race and the old man cackled
as he extended his hand.
"My clear Ada," he responded. "You
were never more welcome than at
this moment!"
CHAPTER X.—(Cont'd).
"We ar not criminal. lawyers!" the
• other stiffened. "My father is a para-
lytic, chained to his wheel chair.
What can we knew of any crime, espe-
cially one commated in New York?"
"Because his memory doubtless
reach='s back, let us say, 'fourteen
years. Have yen. heard of the recent
:turder of the celebrated portrait
painter, Mrs, Vane? Does `Vane' sug-
gest a substitute for that of your
father's late partner, Venner?'
The young attorney gasped and
seized the edge of his desk.
"Heavens! You don't mean that
creature who ran off with Venner's
son! I was only a schoolboy at the
tine, but I remember the scandal,
Ioung Mrs. Venner herself died soon
afterward."
"It is odd under the circumstances
teat Matt Venner's wife's family
didn't come forwa-d and claim her
body when she died insane from the
mental suffering she had 'endured at
his hands," Barry remarked. "Who
was she? Where did she come from?
"Her maiden name was Barrows,
Irene Barrows, but I never heard that
she had any living relatives; that is,
none of them came forward during
any phrase of the tragic affair," Phil-
lip added. "1 remem:.:r hearing that
she was an orphan, a school friend
of one of the debutantes of that time
and that the marriage wasn't a par-
ticularly advantageous ono according
to the senior Venner, from the stand-
point of either money or social posi-
tion"
"We have learned „hat she was a
stranger in Clevelan': but not where
she came front," Barr: repeated. "Can
you tell me? Perhaps your father can.
help me" Barry rose.
"I doubt it. But I will take you to
him."
In Phillip's roadster they soon
reached the fashionable suburbs.
On a terrace .stood a wheel chair
in which reclined a solitary figure
wrapped to the chin in steamer rugs.
Phillip began:
"I came to bri_ig a friend out to see
you, a—a pro epective client, Mr.
Barry. This is my father."
"Glad to see you, Mr. Barry; glad
the old madisn't altogether forgotten
at the office. Phillip, run along."
Phillip shot a warning glance at the
detective and departed.
"Now fire away, Mr. Barry. I pre-
sume you have your proper creden-
tials?"
"Social?" Sergeant Barry's tone
was innocent.
"Professional, sir! My son is a
fool, but 've handled enough criminal
cases in my time to know a detective
when I see one, and your visit isn't
altogether a surprise. Miss Haskins,
my nurse, wouldn't read the latest
news of the Vane case to me. I made
her do so yesterday before she real-
ized what she had strayed into, and
when I learned that that old clerk of
curs, Griswold, was nixed up in it, I
rather expected that the old scandal
would be raked up again."
Barry laughed with boyish frank-
ness.
"I won't try to lie to you, sir!" he
exclaimed. "We have reason to be-
lieve that the woman who was killed
was some connection of the unfortun-
ate Mr;. Matthew Venner. We know
There was a younger sister that some
people on a farm near Wheatfield were
taking care of. I forgot ,bout her,
for she wasn't at the wedding and I
never .saw Iter except once, long after
Irene's death."
"A sister!" Barry exclaimed. "When
dict you see her? What was her first
name? Please tell me about her, Mrs.
Tyrrell; perhaps she is the relative
I know of in New York."
"Well, about seven years after
Irene's death and Matt's suieide, a
young woman called on me who said
she was Mrs. Matthew Venner's sister.
Except for being pale and slim I
'couldn't see any resemblance, for
Irene has dark hair and this girl's
looked as though it had been bleached
almost white in the sun,
"There was a strength and assert-
iveness in her manner, too, that Irene
had never had, and although she was
shorter by at least four or five inches
her face was as old as the hills:"
"For what purpose had she come
to you?" Barry looked away as he
spoke.
"That was the strangest part of
it!" his companion exclaimed. "I sup-
posed, naturally, that she had come
to talc of Irene, but. instead she asked
innumerable questions in a horrid,
eager sort of way about—about the
Griswold woman. She didn't give any
first Warne, simply announced herself
as 'Miss Barrows',"
"Had you ever heard your friend
mention a younger sister?" Barry's
tone had quickened.
"Yes, at school. ube had mentioned
her by some silly nickname. I gath-
ered that they came of pretty good
old stock but had become reduced in
circumstances.
"I know she wanted her little sister
present at her marriage to Matt, but
that geardian of hers put his foot
down and said he wasn't going to have
the child's head filled wi:.h notions
that would make her discontented;
that she would have to stay where own very best work."
she was till she was eighteen. "I am surprised that you think it
"Irene went to see her regularly
after her marriage, but never said is so terribly important that I should
not sagest any rivalry with another
broughtanything about those "trips nor child. But I am willing to try out
Didher 'so siltCleelr ell your plan, at least for a while. George
"Did Irene's sister tell you nothing
about herself or her plans for the
future?"
"I behove she did mention .some-
thing about being on her way East."
"What•sort of questions did, she ask
you about Miriam Griswold?" Barry
urged. "Think, Mrs. Tyrrell; this
may be more important than you
know!"
She glanced quickly at him in
amazement.
(To be continued.)
Jim and Margery's House
I've said I'd never marry, r,'
And still, and still, and still,
Since I've seen ,Jim and Margery's
house,
Perhaps, perhaps, I will.
It's such a quaintly modern place,
Old English style, you know,
And, in the garden back of it,
Old fashioned posies grow;
And everything's just right inside—
The living room, the hall,
The dining room, the kitchen and
The bedrooms; loves them all!
And Margery has a Persian rug,
A waffle iron, a chair
Sent all the way from Belgium, and
A set of quimper ware.
And Margery has a sun porch hung
With curtains, willowy green,
And all its windows look upon
A neat Surburban scene.
a him, too, I suppose. didn't see he,
[mp ' JitliilgGeorges..fore what it was .cording to, I'll try
your plan, Sarah."
.School Work
Britain's Handicap.
Stella B. Fulton London Daily Express (Ind. Cons.).;
"I'm so discouraged about George," Our manufacturers are being squeezed
said young Mrs. fainter with a sigh, out all over the world by rivals who,
"Ile doesn't seem to take any interest unassailably secure In the command
in his school work at ;all. I try so of their own home market, are able
hard to arouse !lint. I say, 'Why to use the methods of mass prodw-
can't you be like Edward Slater? 1!d• tion to ,push their export trade. We,
ward is at the head of his class and under oar self•clestroyitlg policy of
I ani sure he is no smarter than you free imports, are secure nowhere.
are: I even offered George a dolor
if he 'would beat 1Gclward's record in
;1
SWEETNESS
arithmetic. But it's no use. He does Lite is fuller and sweeter for every
not even try," fulness and sweetness that we take
"Don't you think that may be one knowledge of. And to hint that hath
root of your trouble?" responded iter cannot help being given from every -
friend, Sarah. 'When you set out to thing.—Whitney. .' .
get one child to outdo some other
child, you make it doubly hard tor hint Minard's-50 Year Record of Success.
to do so. For instance, instead of
George putting his entire energy into
his school work, a good part of it is
spent in watching Edward, trying to
find out what it is that gives Edward
the lead, and perhaps in copying the
least important things that he does.
In outer words, you are urging him to
be an.imitator, and you know that an
imitator seldom produces anything as
good as the thing he imitates."
"Well, then; if you don't approve of
what rve done, tell me what you would
do to interest George in his school,"
demanded Polly, slightly aggrieved.
"Perhaps you can find out what is
the matter with his arithmetic: It
may be only carelessness in setting
down the problem. Or he may be
slow in setting down his problems and
that gives him a low mark in all the
speed •tests. But at any rate, I would
be careful not to suggest to him a
comparison with any other child. To
improve on his own record would be
a better incentive. Just let him know
that you only expect him to do his
Drowsiness is dangerous.
Weary miles seem shorter
and the day is brightened when
you have Wrigley's with foul
.., sugar peps you up. Its
delicious flavor adds to any
enjoyment.
A flue cent package
is safety insurance
ISSUE 11o. 1 %--'--`30
CHAPTER XI.
"Let me present Mr. Barry, Mrs.
Tyrrell," said the invalid. "Mr. Barry
thinks he knows a relative of a dead
friend of ours. I was just telling him
that you were the one person who
could give him the information he de-
sires
"This has been a 'most fortunate
meeting if you can spare me a few
minutes, Mrs. Tyrrell," smiled Barr,
"for I must catch the next train back
to New York."
"I was about to suggest that I give
you a lift in my car!" she. beamed
upon him. "We must not tire my dear
old friend here and I confess that my
curiosity has been aroused. Good-bye,
Mr, Scully."
Barry escorted the lady :. her run-
about.
"Who was this old friend of mine
whose relative you know?" asked Mrs.
Tyrrell. -
"I believe when you knew her first
that her name was Irene Barrows,
afterwards Mrs. Matt Venus: Barry
replied steadily.
All the color vanished from his com-
panion's face ani. the little car swerv-
ed as she gripped the wheel.
"Irene!" she gasped. "Oh, don't
remind me of her! Do you know the
whole wretched rtory, Mr. Barry?"
"All except the details of your
friendship with her and what you
Imay know of her family."
"When she was seventeen and 1 a
year older I brought her home here
to give her a real good time, and she
met Matt I'm not going to say any-
thing about hint for he's goiae, too,
but the whole thing turned out to be
a mistake. In a month they were mar-
ried and two years later his father
took on that miserable sn.al: of a
le Alms! 9 burse his 'wife came to
Cle'velabd, too."
Her lips tightened.
"Mrs. Griswold, you mean? The one
who ran away with Matt Venner""
Barry asked.
"Yes. She was fascinating, I'll say
that for her, even though r never
liked her.
"Curiously enough, Irene • did, and
that mattes what happened all the
worse. Shy was brilliant and differ-
ent, somehow, and beside her, poor
delicate little Irene was like a dull,
gray moth to : most people."
"And you never heard that she had
any relatives in Wheatfield or else=
where?" Barry asked.
"Why, yes! How stupid of ine!
simply hates' school at the present
time,". said Polly regretfully.
"There isn't any fun iii imitating
other people—at least not to any one
with as active and original a mind as
George has. Can't you imagine how it
would be if you and I were asked to
write an essay in imitation of Ma-
cauley or a play like Shakespeare's
and do them better than the originals?
The very idea of imitating and at the
same time excelling the work of a
person of ability would appall us, dis-
courage us, and we should Irate the
task with all our might."
"And we' should hate Macauley and
Shakespeare with all our might, too,"
said Polly. "I believe George hates
Edward Slater," she added, thinking
out her pfoblems. "He is hating his
school, hating Edward and envying
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And Margery has her pantry shelves
Lace -paper -edged and trine;
And Margery has a breakfast nook,
And Margery has her Jim!
I've said I'd never marry, I,
And still, and still, and still,
Since I've seen Jim and Margery's
home,
Perhaps, perhaps. I will!
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