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Y
oung
WANTED
b VE !
By Beth Brown
"Name, please?" had come a business-like voice from behind the grille work at Central Casting Bureau. "Mary Manners," she had answered. And then the grille work opened and a head emerged
He did seem rather young for a banker, not more than twenty-five, perhaps only twenty-three. His brown tweed suit was cut in carelessly comfortable fashion, his brown brogues were generous and heavy as if they were accustomed to make firm use of Mother Earth. His blue eyes were kind, truthful and inquisitive. They seemed to be asking all sorts of personal questions of her, which she must try to evade.
She must not encourage questions until she had worked out a plan. She had decided to do this from the first moment she saw him. She must think fast and have her plan all ready before they saw each other again.
" 1 did enjoy lunch. Thank you. Now I think I'll take a nap. Goodbye!'' and she waved gaily as if she were going off on a long journey, and then merely took a step across the aisle.
"Here, take this extra pillow!'* and he punched it as if he were angry with it because it was going to be so close to her.
I II mttrateA
Frank Godwin
pillow acquired a hollow that just fitted her curly head, bet vou're married," she teased. "You have the right que—"
ISO I were married!' and his eyes added "to you." regarded her intently. "Qf course, you're DOt?"
' \ \" and right there she made up her mind as to a plan. "Maybe you'll come to my house for dinner?" waving t'> his compartment.
' I'd ratlur see you after dinner, on the observation car." 'That'll be nice. The moon and I will be there with rings on! Now enjoy your nap."
To give her the proper semblance of privacy, he screened himself behind a tall magazine, watching one-eyed over her slumbers with a knightly feeling, quieting the porter and the loudest of the passengers, and gesticulating eloquently to the conductor to come back later for her ticket and Dot wake her r.
Her head was buried deep into the pillow. All he could see was a halo of gold curls, and peeping from her skirts, one round silken knee. She was a very tiny thing, and she looked even tinier when she cried, but bush,: w\ if sht
a lady detective he would tell her all about the bank robi in his own way.
* * *
" TT is a beautiful moon." she agreed. They were all alone on JLthe observation platform, all alone in a romantic, moonlit world. "And those hills running away from us as if they're frightened—" The train shuffled and sang, the rails glimm and blinked, wise-eyed.
Behind her elbowing chair was the cosy comfort of the lighted writing room with its call to relax. [ PLEASE turn to pack 114 ]