Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

Every Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA "Cadet Dunn," cried the lieutenant, "what are you doing at this hour in full-dress lig?" wheels and the guaixi was coming down the car calling "Annapolis next!'' that sho spoke. And all she said was: "I'll give you two dances, and j-ou shall take me into supper." Bill wandered back to the academy in a dream. He seemed to be walking, and yet was not conscious of the fact. Once only did he wake up, and that was to hear the bad language of a taxi- driver who had narrowly missed him as ha stepped off the kerb without looking. He got it this time. It was a case of love at first sight—so complct.p and over- whelming that as he walked he made plans for redoubling his energies to- wards becoming Admiral of the- Fleet, and worked out a convincing proposal of marriage that he intended to use that same evening. On the stroke of seven he stood by the door waiting for her to come in. His dresa kit wa.s faultless, and his gloves— an es.sential part of his uniform—were spotlessly white. He saw her in the crowd and started forward to meet her. Then he ob.served with considerable disappointment that she was with none other than Skeeter. He drew back qiiicklj-. "Hallo, Bill," Skeeter greeted, spotting him. "Waiting for Mrs. Allen ?"__ "No!" Bill snapped between his teeth. "Come over here. I've got something to say to you." Skeeter bowed elaborately to his partner. "Will you excuse me a moment. Miss Allen?" he said. "My friend wants me !" "Who is she?" Bill demanded, when they were out of earshot. "Come on. Out with it!" Skeeter looked at him with an ironical expression and then grinned. He made a warning gesture. "Stand off," he advised. "She is not for you, Don Juan. Her name is Betty Allen, and she is as good as engaged to Herbert. He told us so him- self, and he ought to know." Bill held his hand to hi.'; head dazedly. "She's Betty Allen," he mumbled. "But I met her on the train this after- noon. She's promised me two dances, and she's going to let me take her in to supper." "JIaybe," Skeeter retorted. "But she's still Betty Allen all the same. And let me tell you this, my lad. She has been entrusted to my fatherly care, and I want no funny business. Keep oflF!"_ "You'd better be getting back to her," said Bill, suddenly very quiet. "She won't like standing about too long." Thej- sauntered to the doorway of the ball-room once more, and to Skeeter's inten.se annoyance she had already gone. "Some other blighter's got her!" he growled. His eyes swept the crowd of couples. " Ves. there she is. It's that confounded Bulge. You wait until I get hold of him. I'll pound his fat carcase to ribbons!" But Bill was not listening. He had quietly slipped out into tlie open air. The Quarrel. IT was a long time before he ventured back into the ball-room a{<ain. The discovery that the girl ho had met on the train was Betty Allen had hit him harder than he first realised. He had never before boon in love, and somehow ho had thought that she was the sister of one of the cadets. In fact, he had taken it for granted. As a matter of course, ho had allowed him* self to weave all kinds of dreams about her, seeing in her a girl worth working for and fighting for. And then Skeeter, in all innocence, had dropped his bombshell. She was as good as engaged to Herbert, which meant that she ws in love with him, and only waiting for a formal annouuco- mont that they were to bo married. It almost knocked Bill over. His in- tense, sincere nature would never allow him to treat such things lightly, aad ho saw at once that all the plan^ that wore half-formed in his brain were futile. Slie belonged to Herbert, and that was the end of the matter. As he walked into the crowded room again Bulge immediately sought him out. "I say, Bill, Betty's been asking for you," he said. "She says that you booked two dances with hor, and sho is wondering which ones you want." He prodded Bill in the chest. " You miser- able brute, you deserve to have them cancelled. She's flatly refused to make up her engagement card more than one dance ahead in case you showed up. Jolly decent of her, I I'ockon. If it had been me I'd have cut you right out." "You mean it. Bulge?" Bill said in- credulously. " She's been keeping those dances for me all this time? " "She has," Bulge replied. "Get to it. my lad." Bill got to it. Ho foinid her in an alcove by one of the windows, fanning herself and look- ing a little Hushed. "Hallo, Miss Allen !" he said, by way of opening a conversation. "I must apologise for running off earlier in the evening, but I had to—to go out some- where.'' She smiled at him. and motioned him to sit by her side. "What a shame!" she said. "The two boys who have been dancing with me up to now have been telling mo all about you. You're Herbert's friend. What a coincidence that we should have met in the train this afternoon !" "Have you scon him?" Bill asked, not quite sure of his position. "Who? Herbert?" She shook her hod. "No, but I expect I shall later on. He sent a message to say that he had been detailed for duty at the last moment and was unable to get away." Bill nodded tiioughtfully. It w.^s what ho wanted to hoar. So long as he know what yarn Herbert had told, there was no fear of him saying anything which would upset it. February IStb. 1930.