Photoplay (Jan - Jun 1943)

FIBS Kotex Tampons Cost Less/ ONLY 20^ a package— and with Fibs you can be free as a breeze. Slip into slacks, shorts or even a swim suit with nobody the wiser. Worn internally, Fibs provide invisible sanitary protection ... no pins, pads or belts ... no chafing, no disposal problem. Only FIBS are Quilted! "QUILTED "-to avoid danger of cotton particles adhering to delicate tissues — to prevent undue expansion which might cause pressure or irritation. That means greater comfort and safety! And Fibs have a smooth, gently rounded end for easy insertion! 20 * a package (;;; Lin Cho, tall, lean and steely-eyed, looked Jones over carefully. Then deliberately, he turned to Lin Wei who had come up. "Who is this — gentleman?" "An American," answered Lin Wei, "who sells oil. Some of our women are riding in his truck." Lin Cho stared at Jones coldly. "This isn't a good road for you to travel," he said in clipped English. "Yeah? Why?" "Ten miles from here Japanese troops are advancing from Shanghai." "How do you know?" demanded Jones. "It's my business to know. And there are enemy patrols behind you." "So what? I've got a pass." Again Lin Cho gave him a disconcerting stare, as Carolyn joined them. "You have Chinese girls in your truck," said Lin Cho. "What about them? They have no passes." "That my headache," Jones said shortly. "I'll think of something. . . ." At that moment a burst of machine-gun fire and the roar of a speeding truck were heard in the distance. Calmly Lin Cho said, "It's the enemy. Go quickly. Do as he says," nodding toward Lin Wei. They rushed back to the truck. Lin Wei this time stood on the running board. As the truck pulled out, the heads of all the Chinese girls could be seen gazing admiringly after Lin Cho. Especially Tan Ying, a pretty, eager-looking girl of nineteen. She watched his retreating figure as she saw what he was doing. For in his hand he had a bottle filled with liquid. And Tan Ying knew that the bottle, thrown at the proper moment, would completely obliterate the oncoming truck and all its enemy occupants. She knew, also, that "farmers" all through China were doing the same thing to the arrogant Japanese. Jones leaned out towards Lin Wei. "You know those guys?" "Yes sir," Lin Wei's face was wreathed in smiles. "They are my first and second brothers." They heard the remote sound of an explosion and the following clatter of machine-gun fire. Lin Wei beamed more than ever. He knew that meant one less enemy truck. Suddenly, from inside the truck Jones heard the anguished cry of a baby. Johnny's face appeared. ''Listen, boss. Miss Brent says Donald Duck — " "Who!" "The baby. We named him that. Anyway, Miss Brent says he needs milk and Tan Ying's folks have a farm near here — ■ and a cow." Jones shrugged his shoulders with resignation. "Okay. Where is it?" he said. THE frightened faces of the old farmer and his wife relaxed as Tan Ying jumped out of the truck. They were still safe! Johnny, Carolyn and Jones got stiffly out. Carolyn held Johnny back. She wanted to speak to him alone. Johnny beamed. Anything for Miss Brent! "Mr. Sparrow, could you help me persuade Mr. Jones to take us to Chungtu?" Johnny gave her a startled look. "Gosh, Miss Brent, that's a seven-day hitch! And Miss Brent, Mr. Jones!" "Oh, couldn't we talk him into it?" "Well, it's like wrestlin' a mule. But if anybody could do it, you could. Get me?" Carolyn nodded solemnly. "Yes, Mr. Sparrow. I get you." While Donald Duck, very much the spoiled darling of the household, was being fed, Carolyn was carefully explaining her plan to Jones and the others. Drawing a small map, Carolyn pointed out how one road led to Shanghai, now occupied by the Japanese. The other, after seven days, would bring them to an old temple in Chungtu, where the girls could carry on their work without danger from Japs or their bombs. Jones was furious at being put on the spot. He explained he had an appointment in Shanghai. He would take them as far as the fork in the road but Chungtu was definitely out. Carolyn faced him squarely. "Mr. Jones, you have an appointment in Shanghai. How important it is, I don't know. But these girls have an appointment in Chungtu. And their appointment involves the destiny of China . . ." Jones started to interrupt, but Carolyn silenced him. "And their job is to educate millions of Chinese, to teach them how, working together, they can help toward the building of a free China. We've got to help them!" Jones lit a cigarette speculatively. He stared at her, then, inhaling deeply, tossed the burnt match at her feet. Carolyn glared at him and turned away. Well, the devil with them all, he thought. Trying to shame him into being an errand boy for them! He had his own destiny to work out and it had nothing to do with China! OUTSIDE, near the barn, Jones discovered a pool hidden by several bushes and trees. He brought out his shaving kit. took a quick dip and started to shave behind one of the clumps of bushes. With his sense of well-being definitely improved, he was singing the little song softly to himself when he heard the sound of splashing in the pool and the voices of the Chinese girls commenting on him in distinctly unflattering terms. Jones stepped deeper into the shrubbery, hoping they wouldn't see him, but Tan Ying spied him and approached shyly. "Mr. Jones, when are you going to kiss Miss Carolyn?" she asked naively. His face unexpectedly broke into a grin. "Am I supposed to?" "Oh, yes," the girl answered. "In American films, men always shoot people and kiss girls." Her laughter trailed back to him as she ran away. His eyes were mildly speculative as he closed his shaving kit and started toward the truck. Suddenly he was arrested by sounds of masculine voices in song. Marching toward him was a column of men with rifles and machine guns swung across their shoulders. They were all young, bronzed and tough. Johnny and Carolyn came toward him. "What kind of an outfit's that?" Jones asked Carolyn. "Guerrilla fighters." "They look tough." "They are," Carolyn said proudly. "What are they singing?" "Dig ditches, build the roads! Blood and sweat we gladly give. For a China free and strong!" At the head of the guerrillas was Lin Cho, looking every inch the leader. After they had passed Jones called out that he was leaving. For Shanghai! Any ATTENTION, AUTOGRAPH HOUNDS— A/ext Montk! Don't miss the life of an autograph hound, Virginia Weidler. It's by the author of "The Youngest Profession," Virginia's new picture that's based on the delightful stories publirhed in Photoplay mm