The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 30, No. 151, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 31, 1933 Page: 3 of 4
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THE LAMPASAS LEADED
v
s
\
ANGLED WIVES
By Peggy Shane
Copyright by Peggy Shane.
WNTJ Service
SYNOPSIS
A pretty young woman finds her-
self in a taxicab in New York with a
strange man who addresses her en-
dearingly and speaks of "an awful
shock.” When he leaves her for a mo-
ment at a drug store she drives on,
for she fears him. She stops at the
Biltmore, still wondering who she is.
Her memory is gone. From her ex-
pensive clothing she concludes she is
married to a wealthy man. She meets
a young woman who speaks , of her
desire to go to Reno for a divorce,
if she can get the money. The wom-
an vanishes with the nameless girl’s
purse, and $900.
CHAPTER II—Continued
3 '
The woman turned and scrutinized
the girl for a moment slowly. Her
face was broad and friendly, her eyes
shrewd but kindly. The long gaze was
one of appraisement. Then she said.
"Ah Doris! How beautiful you are,
Doris! I am glad you are here!” And
she flung her two fat arms around the
girl’s soft fox collar and slender throat,
and pressed a firm, wet cheek against
hers.
Doris! So that was her name. She
hardly felt the embrace, nor won-
dered at the tears. Doris! She was
grateful that she had found a friend.
The woman talked on. Out of the
jumble of words, a sentence suddenly
disclosed itself: "And so now wi,th
your husband on the seas we will have
to console ourselves together until he
comes back to us!” She listened
breathlessly—her husband on the seas!
It seemed too good to be true.
“Oh, she is frightened,” said the
woman fondly, addressing nobody, as
seemed to be one of her habits. "And
ho wonder. So young. And such ex-
citement. Come, we will get in the
car.”
The bellboy still stood beside the
luggage. The fat little woman turned
to Doris, “He# would not believe I was
Mrs. Du Yal. He wanted to guard the
luggage well.” She shook her head
"Louis will carry out the luggage.”
Doris then noticed that a liveried
chauffeur was standing a few feet
away. He came forward and picked
up Doris’ bags. Watching everything,
on the alert for some clue that would
unravel more of her past to her, Doris
followed.
A limousine stood at the curb. Do-
cilely Doris hopped in after the little
fat woman. There was not a qualm in
her heart. Undoubtedly she had known
this woman, and perhaps it would soon
come back to her when and where.
At least she would learn her own
name.
"Put Mrs. Du Val’s bags in front,”
' said her hostess fussily. Doris stared.
been speaking of her to the chauffeur.
So she was Mrs. Du Yal. Du Yal. D. V.
She did not feel quite satisfied.
) The baggage was quickly adjusted
and the car started through the traffic-
laden New York streets. "Ah, Rocky
is seasick by now, n’est-ce pas?” said
little Mrs. Du Yal. "He cannot stand
traveling, poor fellow.” She tucked a
robe anxiously around Doris. “But she
mustn’t catch cold at such a time,”
she went on. She clucked in her
throat like a worried old hen. “You
feel warm? We have a long ride, you
know.”
Doris did not know. But she smiled
gratefully. Rocky? Who was Rocky?
And why mustn’t she catch cold at
such a time? She wondered where
they could be going.
Her mind was going around and
around in a circle. Her husband was
named Rocky Du Val. He had sailed
for France. That much she gathered.
Then the man she had been with in
the taxicab had not been her hus-
band. Unless they had been on their
way to the boat.. They had just been
married and were going to spend their
honeymoon in Europe, and.she had es-
caped from him. That seemed very
clear.
Then why had her mother-in-law ex-
pected to meet her at the Biltmore?
No, that theory couldn’t be right.
Doubtless it was all simple enough
and would come to her in a flash. The
main thing was not to let anybody
know she did not remember, lest they
think she had gone crazy. She felt
perfectly sure she was not crazy, but
she didn’t think she could convince
anybody else.
The car went steadily forward. "We
will get home before dark,” said Mrs.
Du Yal, in her French accents.
Doris longed to ask questions:
Where" were they going? But her
tongue was tied. Of course she was
supposed to know where they were go-
ing. .Tust a few such questions as that
and Mrs. Du Val would begin to think
she was queer. Then there would be
doctors, hospitals, • maybe an asylum.
She closed her lips tightly. No, she
would tell no one. And certainly one
of these days she would wake up re-
membering everything.
She told Mrs. Du Val, however,
about the loss of her bag. The little
French woman was so incensed that
she all but turned the car straight
back to town. “But the police will get
her. Oh. She is a bad one. She is
veree bad. But I thought you had no
money? Rocky said he was giving
you nothing, and I should give you
all? Where did you get it?”
Doris flushed. Where did she get
it? She wished that she know. “He
gave it to me at the last moment," she
paid, bating to lie and yet not knowing
what °lse *o do. Well, perhaps he did,
she said to herself. Certainly she
didn’t know that he didn’t.
However she decided to be as mum
as an oyster after this experience.
Even the most innocent story might
trip her up with some question about
her past that she couldn’t answer.
“Ah but Oscar will be crazy about
you,” said Mrs. Du Val fondly. “Rocky
was so naughty, wasn’t he, not to tell
us he was married. At first Oscar was
ooh so mad. He walked up an’ down.
He said he would give Rocky nothing.
Nothing. But soon I calmed him down
because I know my Rocky. I knew
the girl he would pick. And now when
he sees you Oscar too will be so happy.
Ah it will be like living our own love
over! Such happiness!” The small
eyes filled with tears of sentiment.
The stout little hand covered hers.
Doris too was filled with a rush of
emotion.
“And Oscar shall do a beautiful
figure of you for Rocky,” went on Mrs.
Du Val happily. “Your figure is Just
what my Oscar loves best to model.
He . '. .”
But Doris was no longer listening.
Something had clicked in her brain.
Oscar. Who was Oscar? Mrs. Du
Val’s husband undoubtedly. But Os-
car Du Val was a famous French
sculptor. And Mrs. Du Val was speak-
ing of his modeling her.
Oscar Du Val. She hoped it might
be the first ray of light breaking into
her past. But no more followed. Why
did she remember Oscar Du Val’s
name and not the name of her hus-
band Rocky?
Mrs. Du Val leaned near her an/
patted her hand. “Ah Doris, now a
thousand doubts are gone forever from
my heart.”
Doris looked inquiringly into her
face, “Doubts?”
"Ah yes. Rocky is a good boy. I
knew it. Many times I told Oscar.
But when he stayed away from home
so much—when his life in New York
seemed to absorb him, I will confess to
you, sometimes I was afraid. Not that
I ever let Oscar know. You will not
give my secret away?”
Behind the round glasses the eyes
of the little French woman were full
of friendliness. More than that, they
were alive with love. Rocky’s mother
liked her. Her heart filled with grati-
tude.- She clung to Mrs. Du" Val’s
hand.
"You are being very sweet to me.”
The moment of sentiment passed.
Mrs. Du Val gave a little cluck and
settled back in her corner. "No, no,
you are my own daughter now, n’est-ce
pas? Ah, that is what I have always
wanted, a daughter.”
Doris felt a pang of misgiving. If
she could only know what all this
meant. Could that man in the cab be
Rocky? And if not, if he were her
husband then Mrs. Du Val would not
be her mother-in-law. Perhaps she
was not being honest. Perhaps she
ought t<5 tell Mrs. Du Val all about it.
She turned impulsively.
“Mrs. Du Val, I have something to
t£ll you.”
“Oh, but you must not call me Mrs.
Du Val. Non, non jamais. C’est mau-
vais. Call me mother.”
Doris smiled. “All right. But—I
really ought to tell you—”
Mrs. Du Val’s round little body*bent
at the waist. “I know, dear child.
There is no need to tell me. Do not
excite yourself.”
“You know?”
“Yes' yes. Rocky has told me oveY
the telephone. We must take good
care of you. Oh oui. Very good care
of you. And now already I can see
you have had too much excitement for
one day. Rocky would scold me for
letting you talk so much, for talking to
you like a magpie. It is not good.”
Doris bit her lip. Was it possible
that she had been with Rocky, and
lost her memory then, and that he
knew about it?^ It was too confusing.
And much as she liked Mrs. Du Val the
prospect of being taken care of was
not alluring. But for her loss of mem-
ory she felt strong and well. She was
not even tired.
As they rode along Doris learned
several things by innuendo and direct
information: that Rocky was named
for Rockwell St. Gardens, the famous
artist: that Oscar Du Val lived in Con
necticut in the country, and had been
there for twenty years: that Doris was
to stay with her husband’s family un- ,
til Rocky returned from abroad. She
decided that, after all, she must have
remembered something subconsciously
else how would she have known that
she must go to the Biltmore to meet
Mrs. Du Val?
The car turned at last into the Du-
Val driveway. To the right on a hill-
side lay the studios of Oscar Du Val.
Doris caught a glimpse of his famous
“Dying Indian,” a piece of sculpture
of which she had often seen pictures.
The way led up a long curving road
toward a big yellow Colonial house
with white pillars over the porch. Way
off to the left there were many out-
buildings and sheds which Mrs. Du
Val said were the farm buildings.
A tall handsome man was standing
on the porch. He had white hair and
piercing black eyes. He was watching
the car anxiously. He waved with a
violent, unAmerican cordiality.
“Ah, Oscar will be so happy,” said
Mrs. Du Val, ms the car came to a
stop before the house.
Oscar Du Val sprang down the stairs
with the energy of a boy- and opened
the ,.door before the chauffeur could
move. A warm smile on his lips
leaped into his eyes.
“Ah. Doris!”
He helped her out of the car, and
surveyed her ecstatically at arm’s
1 length.
Then he folded her close to him,
kissed her on the cheek and sought the
eyes of his beaming wife.
“Adoree,” he said, “you were right/
“Our Rocky is no fool?”
“Ah yes, our Rocky is no fool, afisr
all.”
Doris smiled shyly as Oscar Du Val
released Jier. “You are so nice to me.
But how can you tell so quickly?”
“Bah,” said Du Val, “always I know
instantly about people.”
“After he sees them, he knows,” said
his wife with a slight overtone of sar-
casm. “Before that, he is not so sure.
He believes that our Rocky has not
the good sense to choose himself a
nice girl. He is sure that our Rocky—”
Du Val put his palms together in
an attitude that was half prayerful,
and half playful. “Ah Doris, you must
forgive me. You are going to forgive
me all those things which I have said
to Rocky about you. I did hot know
you were such a girl. How could I
know? And you too must admit that
you have been wrong. To tell us
nothing—”
“There he goes,” scolded Mrs. Du
Val. “Before our little Doris can step
into the house he is already reproach-
ing her.”
“No, no,” said Du Val. “Come we
will go in. Where is your luggage?”
Louis, the chauffeur, was taking
down the bags with their initials D. V.
A little maid in a black dress with a
white apron came out of the house and
picked up the hat box. Doris felt full
of happiness. Surely she had come
home. These kind people were ready
to shower her with love. “Come
Doris," said Mrs. Du Val importantly.
“At such a time, you must get plenty
of rest. I will show you to your room.”
They went upstairs. Louis came in
carrying her bags, and a maid Estelle
hovered ready to unpack them. Mrs.
Du Val sent her away with a brisk
clap of her competent little hands.
“She is too tired now. And she wishes
to unpack her own things. She is like
me, n’est-ce pas?” She looked at
Doris. “You wish to superintend youi
own unpacking?”
“Oh yes, oh yes,” said Doris eagerly.
She was .hardly able to wait to see if
the inside of the bags might not give
her some clue. “And I’m not in the
least tired. I can do it now.”
“Oh no. At such a time in a wom-
an’s life she must rest.” Mrs. Du Val
looked at her with some mysterious
light in her eyes that she could not
understand. "You have had a tiresome
trip. But look! Look what I have
got for your room. As a special sur-
prise.”
“Where? What?”
“Don’t you see? On the dressing
table?”
In a silver frame the face of a
young man smiled with an air of
youthful seriousness.
“Our Rocky!” said Mrs. Du Val ten-
derly.
Instantly Doris loved hig face. She
seized the picture and gazed at it
hungrily.
So this was Rocky. Rocky, her hus-
band.
She gave a long sigh of relief. For
the .young serious eyes that stared
back from the picture weren’t the
same as the dark strange unhappy
eyes that had looked at her from the
tense face of the man in the cab.
Mrs. Du Val was briskly opening
windows. A faint breeze brought in
the scent of blooming lilacs. "Main-
tenant,” said Mrs. Du Val, “you will
nap, n’est-ce pas? You will have time
for a nice little sleep before dinner.”
“Oh no, I must unpack.”
She was eager to explore the con-
tents of her bags. Surely they would
tell her something about herself, some-
thing about Rocky.
“Non, non. Later, out. Then Estelle
will help you.”
Protesting was useless. Mrs. Du
Val’s fat jeweled hand was on the
eiderdown blanket that lay on the
canopied Colonial bed. She drew oft
the gay patchwork counterpane quick-
ly, and folded it neatly. “You like, this
little bed? I had it put in here for
you and Rocky. This is Rocky’s old
room—but the bed Is not the same.
Come now,” said Mrs. Du Val. Doris
was forced to hop into bed obediently.
It seemed the quickest way of getting
rid of her solicitous mother-in-law.
“You must not get out of bed, now,”
warned Mrs. Du Val. She kissed
Doris, tucked the covers firmly around
her, then left the room on tip-toe as if
Doris were already sleeping.
As the door closed Doris threw back
the covers eagerly. In a moment she
. was fumbling with the fastening of
the smallest bag. To her Joy it was
not locked.
Kneeling on the thick carpet she
was looking Inside her own “over-
night” bag, examining a row of bottles
with cloisonne lavender tops. Cleans-
ing creams, night cream, astringent
Motion, powder—she touched them won-
deringly—a round pink bar of soap,
toilet water, bath salts; tooth brush
marked with her monogram, tooth
paste, nail file, manicure scissors; two
silver-backed brushes, a comb. They
were utterly strange to her. Could
these things possibly belong to her?
She studied the monogram carefully.
The D was there, and the V. But she
could not be sure what the third letter
was.
There was nothing else except some
neatly folded pajamas in #fichid shades.
She sighed, examining the bag care-
fully for any small slip of paper that
might tell her something. But there
was nothing.
She opened the suitcase next. It
contained two jersey dresses, a linen
suit, a leather jacket in bright blue,
two cotton sport dresses, and an eve-
ning gown with a little coat to go with
-ft. “Like the wardrobe of a girl who
expects to be gone on a very short
trip,” she decided, “or else Las sent
on her trunks.”
<TO BE CONTINUED.^
Brita Is the Ideal Girl of Sweden
\ '
Miss Brita Jakobsson, who was selected as the most representative girl
of her native country in a recent contest in Stockholm.
Plan Tail Lights
for Pedestrians
Montreal—Pedestrians who walk
along highways and country thor-
oughfares in the province of Que-
bec at night soon may be carrying
tail lights.
The province of Quebec safety
league, according to Arthur Gad-
boury, general secretary, is launch-
ing a campaign, urging all those
who travel afoot on country roads
to wear a small reflector on their
breast and back in order to avoid
being hit by automobiles.
First Bible to Reach
Australia Still Used
Sydney, N. S. W.—The first bible
and Prayer Bible taken into Australia
were used at the recent service in
St. Philip’s church. The books were
carried by Rev. Richard Johnson when
he landed, 145 years ago.
Mr. Johnson was the first chaplain
of the settlement founded in Sydney
Cove by the first fleet bringing set-
tlers to the new continent.
Both books bear the inscription,
“Botony Bay, 178G,” but as the sail-
ing of the fleet was delayed they were
first used in Australia on January 27,
1788. Ten years later they narrowly
escaped destruction in a fire which
burned down the first church.
Find Weather Forecasts
90 Per Cent Correct
Salt Lake City, Utah.—Forecasts of
weather men are 90 per cent correct,
it was estimated from discussion of
meteorologists during the recent Amer-
ican Association for the Advancement
of Science convention here.
Dr. Herbert W. Kimball, of Har-
vard university and president of the
American Meteorological society, told
of ‘modern methods of predicting the
weather. Efficiency is nearly 90 per
cent, he said. Many new facts have
been learned from recordings taken
from instruments released in free bal-
loons. The instrument? are often car-
ried ten miles into the air and often
become lost in the stratosphere.
Claims to Be Oldest Christ-
ian Sovereign State.
Washington, D. C.—“Ethiopia, native
land of Prince Desta Demtu, special
ambassador of Emperor Saile Selassie
I, who recently was a visitor at the
White House, is 350,000 square miles
(more than seven times the area of
New York state) of rich and produc-
tive northeastern African plateau,”
says a bulletin from the National Geo-
graphic society.
“Also commonly known as Abys-
sinia, Ethiopia is mainly a mountain-
ous region, much broken by deep val-
leys. Arid, semi-desert country sur-
rounds it on every side. It does not
touch the sea, although some Ethio-
pian feudal chieftains like to grasp a
marine telescope as they pose for a
formal pjiotograph.
“In the empire there are about 10.-
000,000 inhabitants, about one-half of
whom are Christians of the true
^Ethiopian (Hamitic-Semitic) type.
They are the inheritors of an ancient
civilization under whose feudal form
of government are estimated to be sev-
eral million Moslems and pagans. The
latter are mainly negroes.
“Ethiopia is surrounded by African
colonial possessions of Great Britain,
France, and Italy. As the Ethiopia of
Solomon’s time, it probably included
all of these adjacent territories, with
an Egyptian frontier, and that part
of southwestern Arabia known today
as the Yemen and Hadhramaut.
Melting Pot of Races.
“The traveler is not long in Ethio-
pia until he is aware that the country
is a sort of melting pot of Africans
and Asiatics of many races. Some of
the blood came from ancient Palestine,
some from Arabia, and some from the
shores of the Caspian. The Ethiopians
claim with pride a strong relation to
the Semites.
“Ethiopia’s front door is the French
port, Djibouti, French Somaliland.
Viewed from an approaching steamer,
the port town’s small group of white-
washed stone and mud buildings and
pyramidal piles of salt glisten and
sparkle in the tropical sun. Evaporat-
ing salt from sea water is Djibouti’s
leading industry. There is just a sug-
gestion of the immediate background
of tawny desert and of the purplish
mountain shapes of Ethiopia in the
far distance.^
i “Djibouti is the terminus of the
500-mile railway that links the port
with the Ethiopian capital, Addis
Ababa. The railway is Ethiopia’s
only modern connection with the out-
side world.
“The railroad right-of-way skirts the
Harar district of Ethiopia, the center
of production of Ethiopian coffee. The
coffee bean produced there is of ex-
cellent quality and ranks next to
Mocha in the world’s markets. It is
called ‘longberry Mocha’ and is sold
to a discriminating clientele in the
United States.
“Although the Harar plants are de-
scended from seed introduced from
the Mocha district of Arabia, Ethio-
pia is the home of coffee. The tree
was found originally by Arab travel-
ers in the Ethiopian province of Kafa,
from which it took its name.
Boy Appeals to Judge
to Help Save His Dog
Twin Falls, Idaho.—Bobbie Glade,
Twin Falls boy, appealed to Police
Judge Chester Wise to help him save
bis “valuable dog,”
“I want a job so I can buy a license
for my dog,” the lad, only five years
of age, told the judge.
“Is he a good dog?” the judge asked.
“You bet he is,” the boy replied. “I
just paid a nickel for him.”
“Addis Ababa, which, incidentally
is the home of Prince Desta Demtu,
sprawls in a forest of blue gum trees
with the church-crowned Mount Intot-
to, forming a lofty background.
Becoming Modern.
“Although somewhat isolated, the
city is steadily improving along mod-
ern lines. In 1929, a one-story frame
building was replaced by a handsome
stone railroad station. At this build-
ing the traveler not only gets a glimpse
of the capital’s permanent and tran-
sient population, but of some of Ethio-
pia’s leading articles of trade. They
include bales of hides and skins, col-
lected from interior provinces and
History of Bad Man Finances
Big Building.
Bandera, Texas.—Sam Bass would
turn over in his outlaw’s grave if he
knew how his deeds of violence had
been utilized by a peace-loving society
in the establishment of one of its most
tranquil institutions—a museum.
For Sam Bass, whose career of
crime added to the color if not the
well-being of early-day Texas, was the
foe of peace, and his nature was by
no means compatible \Yith the musty,
static atmosphere of a repository for
dust-gathering relics.
Sam was forced into his inconsistent
role by .1. Marvin Hunter, whose “The
Frontier Times” has made this com-
munity, 47 miles distant from a rail-
road, known wherever’the magazine is
circulated.
PREPARING FOR GRID
Roy Engle, captain-elect of the Uni-
versity of Pennsylvania football team,
keeps in condition during the summer
months by laying electric conduits in
Philadelphia.
brought to Addis Ababa for export to
Europe and America; stacks of coffefe
bags; piles of elephant tusks; and
bales of American cotton piece goods
which are a principal import.
“A ride of twenty minutes on mule
or horseback or five minutes by motor
takes the visitor to the main part oi
the city of the ‘New Flower.’ On one
of the two principal elevations of the
city is the ever-interesting market
place. There once stood the great tree
which served for generations as a gib-
bet. In bygone days it sometimes bore
as many as seven criminals, generally
thieves. On the site now is a fine
equestrian statue of the late Emperor
Menelik.
“Near the market are legations, con-
sulates, hotels, and many modern busi-
ness buildings. The city has about
200,000 inhabitants, about 5,000 of
whom are foreigners, including about
50 Americans.
“The other elevation of Addis Ababa
is crowned by the group of buildings
which make up the imperial palace.
“Ethiopia claims to be the oldest
Christian sovereign state. Christianity
was introduced about A. D. 330. There
are about 15,000 Christian state
churches in the empire. A single
church may have as many as 300
priests.
“After the profession of priest and
soldier, farming is the principal oc-
cupation in Ethiopia. The country is
very fertile, though methods of culti-
vation in many districts are still print
itive.”
Hunter, a little more than ten years
ago, left the composing room of the
San Antonio, Texas, Express, and
came here to buy a small country
weekly. With him he brought an idea
and a scrapbook—and little else.
The scrapbook was filled with first
hand, autobiographical accounts of
stirring events in Texas history writ-
ten by the pioneers who lived through
them. His idea was that these events,
supplemented by accounts of others
he expected to gather, would make in-
teresting reading for Texans every-
where and for others for whom the
making of a great state might hold
fascination.
“The Frontier Times” prospered,
gained thousands of readers through-
out Texas and the nation and abroad.
Books came in their course to supple-
ment the magazine, all published here.
Along with the multitude of colorful
facts he dug up, Hunter collected
items redolent of Texas, including fos-
sils, peculiar rock formations, Indian
relics and museum pieces from the era
of pioneers. The collection finally
overran the small print shop.
Hunter determined to build a mu-
seum to house his collection. But a
museum would have to be financed.
Here Sam Boss, long in his grave
after the battle of Round Rock in
which he was killed, came to the
rescue.
• Hunter had written a book, “Au-
thentic History of Sam Bass and His
Gang.” Hunter decided to market
enough copies to pay for the museum
building.
Among the museum pieces are hun-
dreds of relics including rifles, pistols,
muskets, spinning wheels, saddles,
cooking utensils and farm tools, lar-
iats, spurs, powder horns, bullet molds,
and photographs of early Texans in-
cluding rangers and desperadoes.
Old Coin Cache Found
Visby, Sweden.—A cache of ancient
gold coins has been found near here
on the Swedish island of Gotland, in
the Baltic sea. Some of the coins date
back to 1411.
In Class by Himself
Kansas City, Kan.—Anders Minde-
dahl had a commencement all his own
in graduating from the Maywood rural
grade school. Anders was the only
graduate.
Ethiopia Is Melting
Pot for Many Races
<?-
. /
Dead Texan Aids Town Museum
$>-
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The Lampasas Daily Leader (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 30, No. 151, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 31, 1933, newspaper, August 31, 1933; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth895093/m1/3/: accessed March 28, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Lampasas Public Library.