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The Perm Station was filled with scurrying, homewardbound commuters, all intent on their own affairs. Gwen took her place in the line before one of the ticket windows — but just as the man behind the ticket window looked at her inquiringly, sudden panic seized her. Wouldn't they look for her first of all in Fergus Center? And even if they didn't, how could she ever face the smiles and whispered comments of the people she knew there?
"A — a ticket to — " she stammered, and stopped. Frantically she tried to think of somewhere to go — and the memory of an old school friend came to her aid. Donna Richards would understand, would help her hide. "To Buffalo," she told the ticket agent.
"Can't take a train to Buffalo from here." he said, looking at her curiously. "Got to go to Grand Central for that."
AT Grand Central, Gwen found that there was no train to Buffalo until eight-fifteen. She bought her ticket and sank down on an unoccupied bench. For a while she sat there, resting, before going into the station lunch room for a sandwich.
The lunch room was quiet and Gwen felt the first real peace she had known for weeks. The decision was made. Soon all this grotesque interlude in her life would be past. Then she stiffened. A small radio stood on a back counter, and from its loudspeaker was coming .a voice— Bob Miller's voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, the star of this program. Miss Gwen Holmes, has disappeared. We are trying desperately to find her. It is possible she may have met with an accident, and is in some hospital, unrecognized. Here is her description—"
Gwen listened, fascinated, while Bob described her and went on, "This station offers one thousand dollars in cash to anyone giving us definite information of her whereabouts."
As she listened, Gwen's conscience told her she couldn't possibly run away like this, without letting everyone on the program know she was all right. Leaving her sandwich half finished, she went into
Mr. and Mrs. Milton J. Cross spent their vacation in Bermuda where Mr. Cross, no doubt, has been able to make use of the bicycle his little friends of the Children's Hour program gave him as a parting gift.
RADIO MIRROR
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"Distinctive," says the illustrator and portrait artist, Ski Weld.
"Artistically sound," s ay s Lurelle Guild, well-known de* signerand artist.
MEN who work with color, men who know beauty, know what makes girls lovely . . . it's men like these who now advise, "choose your makeup by the color of your eyes."
And it's all very simple, now that Richard Hudnut has created Marvelous, the Eye-Matched Makeup. For here are face powder, rouge, lipstick, eye shadow and mascara . . . scientifically color-harmonized, all keyed to your personality color, the color of your eyes.
Write your favorite beauty editor. Ask your own drug or department store . . . they'll recommend Marvelous the Eye-Matched Makeup . . . tell you to buy the Dresden type face powder, rouge, lipstick, eye shadow, mascara if your eyes are blue; Patrician type, if they're gray; Parisian type for brown ; Continental type for hazel. Full size packages, 55$ each. (Canada, 65^.)
Wear this glamorous new makeup on your very next date . . . and hear the boy friend ask you "Where have you been all my life?"
mflRViLOUS
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RICHARD HUDI1UT
COPYRIGHT 1936, BY RICHARD HUDNUT
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