Hollywood (1939)

"But of course you could telephone for help," I said. "Heavens, girl, there is no telephone at War-Wynne. It is a retreat!" "Well, what did you do?" He grimaced again. "We settled down to watchful waiting, and a diet of flapjacks and unsweetened cocoa, while outside it kept on snowing." "What about the egg?" He laughed. "Oh, the egg. . . . Well, it had been there six months! Still, it served as a diversion. We conjectured about its desirability as a meal in case other supplies ran out, but we never found out because the third day of that little 'vacation' was my birthday and with it came help. "Some friends of mine in Hollywood, who have never seen War-Wynne and didn't realize its inaccessibility, decided it would be a fine thing to send me birthday greetings. It was, too," he declared, feelingly, "because the Western Union is an enterprising concern, and sent a boy to the cabin on snowshoes — seventeen miles. It took him half a day, and I had to pay him fourteen dollars for making the trip, but he got there and, pushing back the way he came, sent us a snow plough and some food. Now I know how the wolves felt!" "Have you ever seen any real wolves?" I asked. "Yes, and what is still more uncomfortable, they have seen me! It was one day when I was out hunting quail. "Suddenly I came out onto a little clearing and found myself looking into the unfriendly faces of four wolves, not twenty feet away. They were big brutes and they looked mean. I stood stock still, trying to look like the surrounding sahuaro (giant cactus) . They also stood stock still. I knew my shot gun was no match for even one wolf, let alone four, and that bird shot wounds would only enrage them. In fact, I didn't even look toward my gun for fear it would give them ideas about beating me to the trigger. And there we stayed. "After staring at me for a couple of years, or so, they turned and trotted off leaving me weak and shaken." "Have you ever encountered a real bear?" I asked him. "Well, I guess I could make myself the hero of a bear story." He spoke seriously enough, although I thought I detected a wicked little gleam in his eye. "Yes," he went on, "I was bear hunting once, and pretty soon I came upon a very large bear. I raised my gun and shot, but missed. I shot again — and missed. And then, before I had time to reload, Mister Bear charged. I ran and the bear ran after me. Then I fell down, which made him gain on me. I could see that he was chasing me out toward the edge of a high cliff. I tried to turn in another direction, but he wouldn't let me. I had to head toward the cliff and the next instant the bear had me cornered. If I jumped, I should be killed. If I stayed—" he made an expressive gesture. "Well, what did you do?" I demanded. He grinned wickedly. "I stayed right there and the bear ate me up!" MARY GOT 3 MYSTERIOUS LETTERS -WITH NO SIGNATURES! "The first made me furious!" i l»J fa* i~ 73 /KUflA***! Ur tJU $ If*** bit*** 10*+' jUtu h .~*i«7i te 1 to ,lf to*** Xok y**\ vJrjj 1 ffusv cjUk tA "The second made me fly into action!" "The third made me happy as a lark!" ;V .&-:; 3 P.S. Nobody may take the trouble to warn you, but there's bound to be plenty of neighborhood gossip if your clothes are full of tattle-tale gray. Why take a chance? Ask your grocer for Fels-Naptha Soap today and pin up the whitest, brightest washes that ever flapped in a breeze! COPR. 1939. FELS & CO. BANISH "TATTLE-TALE GRAY" WITH FELS-NAPTHA SOAP! TUNE INI HOBBY LOBBY every Wednesday night. See local paper for time and station. 39