Radio and television mirror (Jan-June 1949)

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SIMPLE, EASY TO USE A Golden Glint Rinse after your permanent leaves the curls tight, but the dull lifelessness of your wave is gone. Even hair that changes color an inch or so from the scalp can be naturally blended with a color rinse. So simple, so easy, so economical to use. Golden Glint should be a regular part of your shampoo. Buy a package today. Try it tonight. A single rinse will show you why America's loveliest women have bought over 60 million packages. 5 RINSES, 25<2 RINSES, 100 SEE COLOR CHART AT COSMETIC COUNTERS IN DRUG OR DIME STORES .Jit&iJimAVSi VV\^mL„ <'2 She nodded. She was crying and coughing and making ineffectual dabs at her eyes, but she gave him the address of her hotel and agreed to see him there at three the next afternoon. Then he left her, although he hated leaving her, even for a few hours. She looked sick— she was sick, in body and spirit. He couldn't wait to get her out of New York, to take her home with him, back to Ma — And there his thought stuck. The burden would fall upon Ma again. Ever since he'd met her, when Starr's father, Professor Bassett, had established his "religious refuge" in Rushville Center, bringing Joseph and Starr with him, Ma Perkins had been shouldering Joseph's and Starr's troubles. Not just because she was Ma and could no more resist offering a helping hand than she could stop breathing, but because she loved them — loved Joseph, especially, as her own son. He looked like her John who'd been killed in the war; he had the same speech, the same mannerisms. Sometimes Ma called him by John's name; sometimes she actually forgot that he wasn't John Perkins. There'd been an element of truth in the words Starr had flung at him so hysterically. Going back to Rushville Center meant more trouble for Ma. But then, Ma wanted them back. She had helped Joseph make this trip to search for Starr; she had arranged to have him stay with her friends, the Fentons. For Ma's sake as well as his own, he had to take Starr back with him to Rushville Center. Promptly at three the next afternoon Joseph walked into the lobby of Starr's shabby little side street rooming househotel. He'd been afraid to come early; it would have seemed too much like pushing his luck. "Miss Jane Smith," he told the girl at the switchboard. "She's expecting me — " "Miss Smith has checked out." He didn't believe it; his first reaction was an irrational anger at Starr for having chosen a name that could so easily be mistaken. "She can't have," he declared. "She's expecting me. It must be another Miss Smith." "Only one in the house, believe it or not," said the girl flatly. Then she looked more closely at him, and her face softened sympathetically. "I'm sorry," she said. "She was leaving when I came on at noon — a red-headed girl." "But she wouldn't — " He had to stop and clear his throat, which had suddenly become dry and scratchy. "She'll be back, or she'll call — and when she does, will you tell her I'm waiting. I'll be in that big chair over there — " He sat down facing the lobby clock, his eyes rivetted on the creeping minute hand. And it seemed that with each completed circle, the hand twisted his heart tighter and tighter ... He jumped as a voice spoke at his elbow. "Say. Bud — your name Joe? Joseph?" "Yes." Joseph stared at him, dazzled. A nondescript little man — but Starr must have sent him! "You have a message for me?" "Yeah," said the man. "Annie doesn't live here any more." "Annie — What — " And then he understood. His eyes narrowed ominously. "See here," he said, "are you from Eddie Markel?" "Let's name no names. Bud. Just go home. Nothing to wait for. She's gone away. She doesn't want to see you. So long, friend — " "WaAtl" But it was incredible how fast the little man faded. Joseph followed him out of the lobby, out into the street, before he realized that it was no use. The man was gone. And Starr was gone. He walked the twenty-odd blocks back to the Fenton's apartment, hardly knowing where he was going, knowing only that he had lost all direction, all purpose — for the rest of his life. He was packing his suitcase when Francis and Zenith Fenton came home and found him. Francis warned Zenith away with a look that said, "This had better be man to man," and asked, "Going someplace, junior?" Joseph looked at him blankly. "She's gone," he said. "She'd left the hotel, and then a man came up and said she didn't want to see me." "You mean she's gone with Eddie Markel?" "I hadn't thought about it," said Joseph. "The point is, she's gone of her own free will. I'm running out of inoney; she knows I can't stay in New York forever ... so she must want me to go back." "And leave her with Markel?" Francis' voice rose. "Listen to an old newspaperman, junior. Markel's a hoodlum. Not too bad as hoods go, but a hoodlum just the same. I wouldn't take the word" of one of his stooges for what my wife wanted. I'd wait until I heard it from her own lips." "I did," said Joseph wryly. "Last night." "Did you feel that she meant it? That she was telling the truth? Do you really ^<»YOU<^<^et HEART OF GOLD? Or, do you KNOW someone whose good works and unselfishness deserve recognition? You can tell about it AND win a valuable prize on "LADIES BE SEATED" Monday — Friday ABC Stations TOM MOORE, M.C. For details of the "Heart Of Gold" contest, read the current issue of TRUE ROMANCE magazine now at newsstands!