Radio Mirror: The Magazine of Radio Romances (Jan-June 1943)

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Dermoil is used by many doctors and is backed by a positive agreement to give definite benefit In 2 weeks or money Is refunded without question. Send 10c (stomps or coin) for generous trial bottle to make our famous "One Spot Test". Test It yourself. Results may surprise you. Write today for your test bottle. Give Druggist's name and address Print name plainly. Don't delay. Sold by Liggett and WJlgrtcn _Dr"9 Stores and other Icadina Druqgists. LAKE LABORATORIES. Box 547, Northwestern Station, Dept. 4204, Detroit. Mieh. m No More to Fear Continued from page 43 me, and that I could not bear. I loved him above everything; he was all I had. My mother's words, as she lay in that last delirium, had been, "Keep Julian with you . . . stay together . . . you must keep Julian. . . ." Mrs. Steiger with whom we boarded tried to help me with him. But she, too, was busy struggling to make ends meet, and she couldn't do much with a child as difficult as he. THEN Jed came to town. He was a promoter. About ten years older than I, well dressed, good looking, a smooth talker, apparently with plenty of money — I thought he was the most attractive man I'd ever met. I was young. I was pretty. I was innocent. But it was more than that. Jed was experienced far beyond his years, and my fresh eagerness intrigued him. A jaded appetite is excited only by something new — and I guess I was certainly that, to him. For all my eighteen years, and working, I was a naive child. And compared to the women he had known, I was a baby. When he talked of being crazy about me, I thought he was talking about love. When he said he wanted me, I thought he meant marriage. And marriage with Jed, I thought, would be wonderful. It would bring the things I'd longed for with the passionate dreams of youth — romance and adventure, and best of all, sanctuary for Julian. For Jed had said, "If you're so worried about the kid, I'll make myself his legal guardian. He likes me, I like him, and if I'm his guardian, nobody can take him away." The excited, unreal happiness of that whirlwind courtship and marriage lasted aoout eight months. When the disillusionment came, it was swift and shattering. It began when, suddenly and almost stealthily, we left my home town and moved to a big city halfway across the continent. In spite of Jed's glib, plausible explanations I knew something was wrong. Finally I got at the truth of it. Jed's "promoting" deals were shady ones. I don't pretend to understand anything about business, but his seemed mainly to consist of fleecing poor people of lifelong savings by selling tricky investments. Maybe those deals weren't actually outside the law, but they were close to it. When you had to hurry away from a place, leaving debts and angry investors believing they'd been cheated, that was stealing to me. When we'd been married a year, I knew Jed was tired of me. The charm of my youthful inexperience wore off for him. I found out that there was another girl — a cheap little hanger-on of his circle of friends. And I found out, too, that underneath that smooth, good-looking exterior ran a streak of real cruelty. He flaunted the knowledge of that girl in my face with a sort of sadistic pleasure. Then I discovered something else. Julian was suddenly getting good grades at school. He was getting them because Jed encouraged him to cheat. "Why get 'em the hard way? Don't be a sucker, kid." He even egged him on to pick on smaller boys. "So what if he is younger than you? If you don't like what he says, beat him up. There's no place in the world for softies, Julian." Making a mess of my own life was one thing. But seeing my brother grow up into a cheating, swaggering bully was something else. I did the only thing left for me to do. I took my brother and ran away. I went to a neighboring town, got a job in a drug store and wrote to old Dr. Drake. He was Dean of Winston College, and had been a good friend of my parents. I poured out the whole sordid story and he, bless him, offered me a job at the college. "I think, my dear," he said when I came to Winston, "that you'd better say nothing to anyone about your husband. Let people assume you're a widow. This is a small town and the college is denominational — good people, you understand, but inclined to be over-strict in the conventions. They wouldn't understand, perhaps. Later, when you're well established, we can arrange for you to go away quietly and get the divorce — and annul the adoption. Otherwise, people will talk and you've had enough unpleasantness for a while. I want you to be happy and forget. You leave it all to me . . ." It was he who first introduced Andy to me and arranged for Julian to attend the summer camp Andy ran for boys my brother's age. It was he who did everything. I know he acted for what he believed the best but "later" never came. Before the year was out, Dr. Drake was dead of a heart attack. Dean Fuller took his place, and I thought my secret was dead with the good doctor. Until tonight . . . I roused myself and looked at the clock. Nearly ten. Julian would be home soon. I picked up the pieces of shattered pottery and threw them in the wastebasket. Tomorrow I would tell him what had happened. Tomorrow when Jed was gone. Jed couldn't hurt us now, I kept telling myself. Meanwhile there was Andy to think about. Andy who tonight had kissed me for the first time. . . . There was no hint that that kiss had ever happened, in Andy's office next day, as between his classes, he introduced me to my new duties. I was a little disappointed. I thought something in his manner might suggest he remembered it as I did — but, after all, we had to be business-like LATE in the day when classes were over, all the letters dictated, and the last student had had his conference, Andy said, "Time to knock off. Let's drop over to the sandwich shop and have a snack. I've got a lot to talk to you about." Once more that breathless moment of last night brushed me. I felt again the sense of sharp expectancy, half sweet, half fearful. Would he say he loved me? Would he ask me to marry him? And if he did and I told him what I had to tell him — what then? Would it make any difference? Oh, surely not. Not with Andy. We left the building and started across the campus. Suddenly I stopped short. Across the street, directly in my path, was Jed Clinton.