Screenland (Nov 1941-Apr 1942)

Sheer Sorcery Translated into a fragrance... Evening in Paris! A joyous accomplice to moonlight and whispered endearments. Intriguing, enticing... wear it and weave a spell of romance. Evening in Paris Perfume S1.25 to $10.00...Face Powder S1.00 'S^*' CREATED BY BOURJOtS best pink dressing gown which Albert wrapped around himself with a flourish, walking in little mincing steps that set the two of them off in gales of laughter, and even Lucy who had been so cross ever since they came there giggled. Only Ellen didn't laugh. Her arms rocked in agony as she looked at that froth of pink and lace which Miss Fiske had kept for very best. It was then she saw that the candle standing before the Virgin had gone out. She gasped and held her hand to her heart as she looked at it. It seemed like an omen. Even-thing frightened her so these days, but nothing had frightened her as much as this. Even when Louisa told her Emily had blown it out, she still felt the horror of it and she couldn't control the shock she felt, even though Albert was looking at her so strangely. He was still watching her out of the corner of his eye as he sat at the table eating and saw her go over and light the candle again after she had sent her sisters off to bed. "I say, Auntie," he looked at her quizzically, "is all this treasure trove yours?" "Of course not," Ellen's voice came curtly. "It belongs to Miss Fiske, the woman I work for. She is away right now. And Albert, please stop this Auntie nonsense and let's get down to cases. Why have you come here and what do you want?" "Well, Auntie," Albert gave her one of his old impudent grins, "to cut it fine, I helped myself to a little salary I wasn't entitled to at the bank where I worked and they found it out. A friend passed me the tip the police were looking for me and I took French leave." "But they'll follow you!" Ellen couldn't control her terror. Involuntarily her eyes stared at the bake oven. "They'll come here !" "Don't worry." Albert shrugged. "No one knows I've relatives out here on the marshes. And I'll be clearing out soon to America, or Australia, or any old where. I'm counting on you to help me. I'm stony." "We'll talk it over in the morning," Ellen said coldly. "But mind you, you can only stay until I've had time to arrange for your passage on the boat." She started to go up the stairs, then she turned hesitantly. "You've told me the worse, haven't you? I mean there isn't anything else?" "What else?" Albert asked. Then he laughed. "Oh, you mean putting somebody to sleep? No, there is no blood on my hands. Putting people out calls for real nerve, 3rou know." "Yes !" The word was torn out of Ellen's terror. And then she turned and almost ran up those steps she had crept down such a short while ago. Albert waited until he was sure she was out of hearing, then quickly he ran to the door of the oven and began working on it. Locks meant nothing to his nimble fingers. He had been able to open them since he was scarcely more than a child. But now he worked fast. There was little time, and that treasure he had seen in there would more than start him on a new life. He laughed triumphantly as the lock yielded and the door began to swing open. Then the laugh closed in his throat for as he looked he saw that there was no longer an opening in that long oven. There was nothing but a solid wall of bricks, and as he stared he saw the plaster was still fresh and new. "Well, I'm blowed !" he whispered softly. Then he smiled, and it wasn't the way he usually smiled with that old careless grin of his. It was grim and purposeful and calculating, the smile of a man who knew he could get everything he wanted. But first of all he must discover for certain what lay behind those bricks ! He went slowly, he had to, for if his guess was wrong he did not want to set Ellen against him. First he made friends with Lucy, for he'd need help to go through with his plans. But it was fun making friends with Lucy, as pretty a lass as he'd ever laid eyes on, whose lips trembled under his when he caught her and kissed her the next day when she was airing out Miss Fiske's room. She struggled coquettishly and gave him a push which sent him sprawling into the open closet, and then she laughed as she saw that the red wig which had been standing on its block on the shelf had tumbled down on his head. "It's Miss Fiske's," she giggled as she took it off his head. "Her best one. She's as bald as a coot. Odd she didn't take it with her, or any of her frocks either, especially with most of them new." Albert was beginning to think it wasn't strange at all, but he didn't let Lucy see that. It was funny after that how he began discovering things. It was just like pieces of a puzzle that all fitted together in his mind. Emily thoughtlessly telling him that Ellen had bought the house and that Miss Fiske was never coming back, and the way Ellen didn't like it when Sister Theresa called and saw him there. Then there was the letter that came from the bank addressed to Miss Fiske which he and Lucy steamed open and which questioned Miss Fiske's signature on a bank draft made out to Ellen. He watched Ellen covertly as she read the letter, and saw how nervous she was as she answered it. Afterwards he held the blotter she had used up to the mirror and saw that she had signed the SCREENLAND 73