Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

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Give Druggist's name and address. Print name plainly. Don't delay. Sold by Liggett and Walgreen Drug Stores and other leadinq Druqgists. LAKE LABORATORIES, Box 547, Northwestern Station, Dept. 3304, Detroit, Mich. 74 on the others. Michael tried for another half hour to be pleasant and gay and to restore the good feeling that had prevailed. But it was no use. It was almost a relief when he could excuse himself and go home. He couldn't get it out of his mind. The hurried departure of Kenzie, the strain that had come over Carol and her father. Kenzie must be in some sort of trouble that his family either suspected or knew about, and of which they disapproved. THE next afternoon he learned more. Carol came out to the farm while he was busy building an addition to the hen house for the bigger flock that Mrs. Anderson wanted to develop, and she sent Carol right on out. "Oh, Michael," she said, "I have to talk to someone, and I feel I can turn to you so much easier than anyone else — " Michael led her to the bench beside the hen house, and there with the chickens cackling and scratching all around them she told him Kenzie's story. "He told us the whole thing today, and my father is so angry he refuses to help. He says Kenzie got himself into it, and this time he can get himself out." "Has he been in trouble a lot?" Michael asked. "Nothing serious. Just escapades. But this time it's worse. Yes, it's a girl. He's in love with this Mary Kincaid — "Oh, I don't mean to speak of her like that. I've met her and she's nice enough, but I hate to see her with Kenzie. She's married — her husband's name is Joe Kincaid — and she has a little girl. "Well, she's suing her husband for divorce, and everything was going along just fine until recently, when she inherited a little money. Now her husband threatens to take the child away from her, and Mary won't stand for it. His lawyer, Dave Phelps, has found Mary several times with Kenzie, and he says he has enough evidence to prove that Mary is not a fit person to have custody of a child." "I see," Michael said. "They want the money, I take it." "Yes, of course, and Mary feels that the money is hers. She doesn't want to give it up because she feels it's a nest egg to put the baby through school and start her out right." "I don't blame her," Michael said. "It's a kind of blackmail." "It's worse than that," Carol said indignantly. "They're despicable — although I don't think Joe is bad. I believe this Dave Phelps talked him into it." "And your father thinks Kenzie should stand on his own feet?" "Yes, and besides, he hates the idea of all the publicity if the whole affair should go to court." "It seems difficult to stop it," Michael said, "if they're both determined— " "Please help me think of something, Michael," Carol pleaded. She laid a hand on his arm, that had grown hard and bronzed from the farm work. Michael saw the tears come into her eyes. Then she was in his arms, crying frankly, unashamed, as though his shoulder was the one place she could come to cry. Michael held her close, and her hair was soft against his face. He looked at the field stretching out above them to where it met the clear sky. And he had to blink his eyes to keep his vision undimmed. "I'll try, Carol, I'll try," he promised. "I'm glad you came to me." After she had gone, Mrs. Anderson came out. "You can have all the time you want,. West," she said when Michael had sketched out the story for her. "I hope you can help them." She turned to go, then threw the remark over her shoulder so that Michael had no chance to answer, "That's a nice girl," she said. "She likes you. Be good to her. Don't hurt her, or you'll have me to answer to." The next day, after their chores were done, Michael and Bobby drove the truck into town again. They parked in front of the office building where Dave Phelps had his office. Bobby waited in the truck. "I'm representing Mr. Kenzie Bates," Michael told him. "Are you a lawyer, Mr. West?" Phelps demanded. He was a short, prematurely bald man, who smoked a big cigar and had an impatient manner, as though he distrusted the motives of the whole world. "I'm not," Michael answered, "although I have practiced in the past. I'm simply a legal adviser." "I see." "I wanted to inquire," Michael went on, "as to the motives for this countersuit to regain custody of the Kincaid child for Joe Kincaid." "It's the natural impulse of a father to see that his child is in good hands," Phelps answered cynically. "The highest motive in the world — paternal affection." "I don't believe it," Michael said flatly. "The motive is money." "Can you prove it?" Phelps leaned forward. "I think so," Michael answered quietly. "Then go to it." Michael got up to leave. "I will before I'm through." "DEFORE they went back to the farm *-* that night, Michael stopped at the library. He left Bobby in the juvenile room, and he went on to the legal section. When he came back there was a light in his eye. "I'll show him a thing or two," he told Bobby. "He's a shyster if I ever saw one." He stopped in a drugstore to call Carol, and she promised to bring her brother out later in the evening to talk it over. "He's a man that a threat will fix," Michael told them. "Just let it ride along as it is, for about a week. Let him think over what I told him, and1 maybe he'll come after me. If he does, that's fine, and if he doesn't, I'll go to see him again." "I'm so glad," Carol said. "Me too," Kenzie echoed. "I'm so worried about this thing I can't think i straight any more. I needed someone to think for me, I guess." He put his arm around Carol's waist, and the three of them strolled down from the porch across the thick grass. The moon had come up, and where its shadows fell, the grass was blue. Walking beside her, Michael brushed against the sleeve of Carol's coat, and her hand sought out his. She gave it: a quick, impulsive pressure, held on for a moment, then let it go. Michael's voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Bobby thinks you're all right," he said. "Of course, in his eyes RADIO AND TELEVISION MIBROR I !