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Authors: Emilie Baker Loring

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"I'd forgotten the Herculean task accomplished. How many of the citizens of the good old U. S. remember if they ever knew, do you suppose?"

"One in a million, perhaps. They ought to remember. Every mother's son of them should be made to realize that the cost was $500,000 a day and that seventy airmen lost their lives. General Clay had some of the best airmen in the British and American forces supporting him. Mine was a job of terrific responsibility, I made uncounted flights with my men."

"Responsibility. Your voice shows the strain as you tell of it. I wonder you are alive. I thought the blockade was formally lifted last July?"

"It was, but the airlift kept up delivery of supplies as insurance against more blockades. It's tapering off but the framework will remain. I wish I felt sure it won't be needed again. All the time I was haunted by a sense of guilt that I was allowing the girl who had married me to carry the load of the oil holdings. I spent hours considering the situation. I argued that if I could go back and we didn't live together, as of course we wouldn't have—she would have been outraged at the suggestion—the persons against whom the marriage had been planned as a defense might try to invalidate it."

"Isn't that argument still good? If you are so sure you were right why come now?"

"The 'playboy' menace bothered me. I could come now. I thought I explained that."

"Really you came because of a letter probably written by a village crackpot—initials don't save it from being anonymous—or maybe, by a girl who wants to be the playboy's number three wife herself."

"Could be. Don't think I didn't weigh both of those possibilities. Having made up my mind to come I moved with speed. My service record entitled me to extra con-

siderntion. I collected back pay. Flew to this country. Bought a car. Spent several weeks at tlie oil holdings under my own name; arranged the terms of sale; had a day in New York to stock up on civilian clothes and start inquiries about a certain person; arrived in this village after the third anniversary of the marriage had passed; that fact will give Cinderella Clinton an uncontestable case of desertion or separation, whichever it is."

"All this under the name of Bill Damon. How could you get away with it?"

"No, no, you misunderstand. I adopted the alias for this town only. I wrote to your brother that my friend Colonel Bill Damon would arrive as my deputy. My plan was running along on oiled wheels, till you appeared there had been no hitch."

"How ungallant to refer to me as a hitch." He smiled in sympathy with her gay laugh. "Seriously, Ken, I think you have started on a dead-end street. How are you getting on with Cindy Clinton?—my mistake, Stewart?"

"We had made a fair start on the friendship road when Slade appeared. Then something roused her antagonism again."

"Again?"

"Yes, she had resented the fact that Ken Stewart had sent me instead of coming himself to settle the business and other matters."

"Other matters refers to the annulment, I assume. How about this Hal Harding menace?"

"Do you know him?"

"Certainly I know him. He's a lot younger than I, but he was the rich little boy who went to prep school while the rest of the youngsters his age went to High. He came here summers and made love to each of the girls in turn. He's a charmer. What are you planning to do about him?"

"I haven't taken up that matter yet with the present object of his affections. Give me time. This is my third day here. I was away a week."

"Will you let her go?"

"Let who go?"

"Don't bite. You know perfectly well that I am referring to your wife."

"I haven't a wife, really. If you mean Cinderella Clinton, of course I shall let her go. Let her go? That's a joke, I couldn't hold her to that written contract if I wanted to, which I assure you I don't."

"Ken Stewart, you exasperate me. You were always the most unimpressionable man. You never went off your head as other patients did about the lovely aides in the English hospital. I was so much older than you that your indifference didn't touch me. I used to wonder if you had left a girl behind you."

He clasped his hands behind his head and tipped back the chair against the wall of the house.

"No, sometimes I wondered myself why I didn't fall for the lovelies. Must have been because all my jobs have been dangerous. Death kept his reminding hand on my shoulder, which fact made me realize that girls and women had no place in my life."

"Now that is over, no reason why you shouldn't go off the deep end and soon."

"Not until this annulment goes through. Technically I am a benedict."

"Suppose you fall in love with this girl, who I deduce from your description is adorable?"

"I face the possibility as one of the hazards of my present life, Mrs. Barclay."

"Gone dramatic on me, haven't you? I caught your grin, even in this dim light, it was in your voice, too. Watch your step. Bill Damon, pro tem, or you may wake up to the fact that you have lost something you would give your life to keep. Somebody said, sounds like the immortal William S., 'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' "

"It was Marlowe. Shakespeare quoted it in As You Like It. You see, I salvaged something from my college course."

He brought his chair down on all fours and leaned toward her.

"Ally, the followers of the Prophet have a proverb, 'Leave the future to Allah, and pitch a tent for today/

My tent is pitched." He held a lighter to her dgarette then to his.

"Period. Let's drop my affairs and get on to yours. What secret mission brought you to this village? Why is my presence here, I quote, a fortuitous arrangement devised by Fate?"

She glanced over her shoulder, then up at the dark sky.

"The face of the Man in the Moon is so clear I feel as if he were bending an ear to listen."

"Forget him. No one can hear. Go on with your story."

"Remember the treasures we were shown in hidden temples and shrines when we worked together on that foreign assignment?"

"Do I? 1 strolled into a huge jeweler's shop while in New York. When I saw the outlay there I was reminded of the diamonds, emeralds, rubies and sapphires galore we saw set in the eyes and heads of idols, of the strings of pearls, the gold and carved ivory urns and vases. Go on."

"Many of those treasures are being secretly sent to the United States—by a complicated route to dodge customs —and the loot sold to finance rebel elements in a country overseas."

"The stuff is being smuggled in to this small seacoast town where each person appears to know his neighbor's business from A to Z? Incredible."

"Smuggled is the word. It fits in with the Pirate's Cove legend. Perhaps that very story suggested this shore as a landing place for the loot. A week ago I was alerted to watch for developments, but the receivers this end must have been tipped off. Nothing happened except that a yacht appeared off the twin points: two lights flashed from one of them. It was on and off so quickly that the exact source was doubtful. A speedboat streaked in the direction of the yacht which immediately came about and sailed away. Later I discovered that the one I saw is the property of the tenant of Rockledge, a rich businesswoman not likely to be interested in stolen goods, so she's above suspicion. Now I have to start over on the

jackpot question, who in this vicinity is on the receiving end?"

"In this vicinity? Sounds like something thought up by a mystery-story expert."

"Maybe it does but my informant isn't a mystery-story writer. He knows his job. Will you help me? Don't answer yet. It's only fair to tell you that an occupant of The Castle is under suspicion."

"The Castle? Do you mean Cinderella Clinton's Castle?"

"Sorry, but that was the tip. Willing to help?"

"Willing? Sure, I'm willing. I'll clear her home of suspicion if it's the last thing I do."

NINE

"That's your second birdie, Cinderella. Call it a record for the day. It's too hot to putt even at 10 a.m.," Hal Harding declared. "I've got something to say to you. I came early to get ahead of the western guy with whom a little bird told me you've been spending most of your time the past week while I've been away. My speed runabout is at your landing. Come for a spin and cool off."

With her putter Cindy knocked the small white ball idly back and forth on the velvety green. Better let him talk. A showdown between them was overdue. It would be a relief to get it behind her.

"For the love of Mike, why are you staring at me as if you'd never seen me before? Cinderella Clinton Stewart, may I present Hal Harding? He's been dying to meet you."

She laughed and bobbed a little dancing-school curtsey.

"I have long anticipated this pleasure, Mr. Harding. You win, Hal, the sun is blazing. Too hot for the boat. I'll settle for the patio. It will be cool there. You may talk and I'll listen, after which perhaps you will let me speak my piece. Ooch, it's sizzling. I should have worn a hat. Hear that cicada. Is there a hotter sound in the world?" She stopped on the path. "I wonder if the yacht dropping anchor belongs to Mrs. Drew, the tenant at Rockledge? It's sensational."

"Sensational, you've said it. Whoever owns that boat owns a beaut inside and out. It measures 87' X 17' X 6'.

There are three staterooms with showers, large main salon with one end equipped for dining. Spacious aft deck. Twin 165 h.p. G.M. diesels, diesel generator. Boy, oh boy, it's the kind of craft I intend to own some day/'

"That description sounds like a yacht broker's ad in capitals. How come you know so much about the boat?"

"I—I sailed on her once with a former owner.**

"Is Mrs. Drew the owner now? Have you met her, Hal?"

"No. I don't want to. I hear she's downright ordinary. Steer clear of her, Cindy."

"She's my nearest neighbor. I intend to call." Sary's words echoed through her memory: "Every little while a big boat drops anchor off her shore, signals, I guess she goes off in it. Kind of mysterious. Gives me the hibby-jibbies."

"Don't get mixed up with her, sugar. It's a dam lot easier to keep out of being friendly than to get out after you're in," he warned.

One side of the patio was cool and shadowy. Diamond spray from the fountain shot high into the air and fell to the surface of the pool with a refreshing tinkle. Hal Harding pushed the chaise longue back into deeper shade.

"Sit here and be comfortable," he urged. "You are perched on the edge of that white chair as if poised for a take-off, Cindy. Curl up in this and relax."

"No. The cushions make it hot." She brushed the short curls back from her moist forehead. "The tips of the hollyhocks, phlox and delphiniums are drooping as if they couldn't hold up their heads a minute longer. You look maddeningly cool in that open neck white shirt and slacks. How do you do it?"

"Peel off your jacket and you'll be cool."

She started to pull off the bolero of her pale pink cotton frock to bare her shoulders and arms, thought better of it as she noted the appraisal in his blue eyes. Pity that a man so lavishly supplied with wealth, blond good looks and personal charm, gave one a feeling of distrust.

"Why are you giving me the once-over again, as if trying to pick out a suspect from a Rogue's Gallery?"

"A cat may look at a king, sirrah. Proceed with what you want to say, Hal. I have a date with Counselor Armstrong at eleven sharp." She glanced at her wrist watch. "Speed. Speed. We haven't much time."

"This is not a subject to be hurried." He drew a straight chair to face hers, straddled it and crossed his arms on the top.

"Like me, Cinderella?"

"With reservations."

"I know what that means without asking. You think me fickle. No use explaining the reasons for the bust-up of my two matrimonial ventures, you wouldn't understand."

"I have told you before, Hal, that I am not interested in the reasons."

"We'll drop that for the present. When will you know the date your annulment case will come before the Court?"

"I hope Mr. Armstrong will tell me this morning. He assured me that he had a decision in my favor nailed down, that it will be granted at once, that I will walk out of the courtroom a free woman. Even at the thought my spirit spreads its wings and soars. See it soar? See it soar?"

"I hear it flutter. Hoorayl That night I'll give the party of the century at my place to celebrate."

"You will not. We've gone over this before. It isn't decent to make whoopee, I know your brand, over a thing like that. It is too much of a tragedy."

"Tragedyl Have you gone screwball? What's tragic about it? Why turn sob sister? You just shouted to the housetops, 'I'll walk out of that courtroom a FREE WOMAN!' "

"I didn't shout."

"Have it your way, sugar. I'm not interested in what you say, only in what you do. The minute you are free, you'll marry me. Right?"

She shook her head till every short gold-brown curl was in motion.

"No, Hal. I will not marry you. I hoped I had made you understand that." Here was the showdown. She must make her refusal so clear there would be no doubt that it was final. "And furthermore, if you give that party ostensibly for me, I won't come. I'll leave town."

"Why? Why won't you marry me? I'm crazy about you. My family is tops, and—"

"Where you came from doesn't mean so much to me as where you are going—and what you are is even more important."

"I suppse you mean by that, accomplishment. I don't need to work. I can give you everything you want, now."

"Not everything, Hal. I want a man who feels the responsibility of money and power. Wealth creates power, and to my mind responsibility. A man like you shouldn't go through life doing exactly as he wants regardless of the harmful example he is setting to others who admire him for what he has."

"I get you: my brother's keeper fixation, what?"

"Don't sneer. You claim you can give me anything I want. You can't. A sense of responsibility when there is wealth and power is the way I see life, and that's the way I intend to try to live it, live it with a man who sees it that way too. When I promise 'to love and to honor' I'll mean it with all my heart and soul and mind."

BOOK: To love and to honor
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