Picture Play Magazine (Sep 1920 - Feb 1921)

40 In the Heart of a Fool Laura had said she was marry The pistol appear ing Van Dorn to reform him. The as if bV vaccination didn't take. It seldom does. Violet Manning retained her job as his stenographer, confidante, and secret soul mate, until the solemn hour when Laura's daughter came into the world. Even then Violet might not have lost her job had not old Doctor Nesbit hurried into Van Dorn's office unannounced, to congratulate the proud father. Violet was sitting on the proud father's lap at the moment. She lost all three of her jobs as a result of the old gentleman's rage, and for the first time since boyhood Van Dorn was without what he called a "delightfully dangerous pursuit." The divorce which was inevitable was granted not long afterward. Now, while Fenn was well-to-do, Van Dorn had always been known as the wealthy member of the law firm of Van Dorn & Fenn, and the still unsatisfied ambition of the Lorelei began another feast of intrigue. Nor was it difficult to intrigue Van Dorn — his life had been spent seeking instead of evading intrigues. Loyalty to his partner? He didn't know the meaning of the word loyalty. Let the unraveling of threads that had been perversely tangled in life's skein go on its own way long enough to consider for another moment the saddened and lonely ed in her hand ma gic. man who fled from society to the toil and gloom of the coal pits. Lonely men have broad sympathy for their fellow men — Grant Adams became a hero among his fellow workers, became their natural leader, even organized them into a union to better their condition. And thereby he incurred the displeasure of one "Hogtite Sands," owner of the East Harvey mines, for if Grant's wage demands for the miners were to go through it would cost "Hogtite" many shekels a year. "Hogtite" consulted Van Dorn, the lawyer, about it — no longer was it the firm of "Van Dorn & Fenn," for in the inevitable unraveling of twisted threads Van Dorn and the Lorelei had formed a matrimonial partnership of their own which eliminated the former junior member of the law firm. Now Van Dorn set about earning a large fee from "Hogtite." He would drive Grant Adams out of the city, for a consideration. And the bargain was struck. A gangster was engaged to hire a mob of strong-arm "strikebreakers," to end young Adams' career, and when this riotous mob, armed with pistols and strong drink, started its march on the stronghold of the striking miners pandemonium broke loose. But so capably had Grant generaled his forces that when the rag-tag army arrived they found themselves covered with rifles pointing ominously from a hundred different windows, and awaiting only Grant's signal to turn loose a volley of leaden death. Just then two amazing things happened. Van Dorn, realizing that the day was lost for his rag-tag army if Grant's well-equipped men should begin firing, saw a chance to seize a mean but efficient advantage over thp leader of the striking men. He sped away in a racing car while his followers held their ground and muttered. Soon he returned with Grant's little brother, now a boy of three or four. Grabbing the boy by the waist and lifting him high over his head. Van Dorn rushed out in front of the rag-tags. "Grant Adams," he shouted above the turmoil, "if you don't come down we'll make a target of this brother of yours." That was the first, of the two amazing things. A woman doesn't belong in a rioting mob. It doesn't give her time to think, and she becomes panic-stricken. Another automobile had followed Van Dorn's back to the scene of trouble, and in it was his second wife — the Lorelei — and beside her was the child of Van Dorn's first marriage, with Laura Nesbit, the two-year-old Lila. For a reason which none but the Lorelei could have explained, she had known that some ominous thing was in the air when she saw Van Dorn speed toward the scene of the riot with the little Adams boy in his arms, and a hidden instinct had impelled her to seize Van Dorn's child and follow. And so now a screaming woman, with frenzied eyes and disheveled hair, dashed in front of the mob, carrying a two-year-old girl. Continued on page 86