grace SIX rm; CHARLQTIEIOWN _.GUAB_QYAN d. —- QEQEMEER 18‘ 194 § " c‘v‘uAN,,_. - ; ll n; ,,.:"_°l"_. Til-DAY -:- BAPITUL-z- Frl. and Sat. SOLDIER 0R . V‘ ., PcE E WAR MINE 3.1111‘ ND s45 Three Traveled I RiVl c} ollllrs HIGHROAD... T h“ TBA MILLIONS MAY ‘LIVE! ‘ “mium ‘ ‘ renal... oirl Shelled from Author u "Meet m use

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"Drnflfll For Lon‘

(Continued from page 2)

Thil was exusperating, this feel- ing that she'd stolen the glory flkht out from under J. J. Patter- son without his lifting a hand.

"Jim Bardley said you were on S9111‘ way to put through a long distance mil." she sputtered.

"Yell; -— that's right."

She wanted to shnke him She had o. fierce wish to hear him talk again in his same cocksure, bump- tlous way. She knew now that she'd misjudged him, figured him out all wrong, It was disfurbltgq, If it hadn't been for the clips in her hand, she had a strange iecl- lng that she'd have liked to put her arms around the Christmnl Spirit, Inc. But she was a filers girl - she was 1n love with Jerry Marsh and must reach him.

Pat said slowly, "Funny thing, but all my life I've been writing pleces’ for the paper. Collecting news items - gétllng ll crack at s big ncwwbreak two or three times. I'd never had a (Nance to live ll story before. And when I 21nd, sending in the story didn't strike me as being half so important us- well, other things. Guess I was be- ing just one of the bus passengers instead of a reporter."

She might have known. l," was a Ilolncspun boy from the Rockies with a peculiar philosophy all his

own. She noticed for the first time his face was very whiw and the twinkle had gone out of his blue eves-for keeps. He wasn't. the Pat who had shared the seat with her nlrcn she borrrld the bus at Smlthon. He wasn't nnv of the J.

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‘Lilo’ pulplcxlng but inter- sltuutloil. Plastic surgeons un- \vlttlllgly' reconstruct the lace 0_i a soldier-bank robber and reconstruct it ilCCOlfllllg to u photogfflllll D1 5 bunkcl‘ lll u locket he llud stolen. 'i'l:l1~. on ins hililll l0 luniélfllhl U" on. 11111;; bunk robber discovers alllOlll; .l.s llcnly found P9$5e5~>'°n5_§ lovely and cnurllnulg Qllldndllizlélf; hell; and an wrwrfl e B tenlpfiing posltgonkas head 01f Brit-- nus greatest an

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Director Noel Smith faced a unique problem in castinz d the il of "Burma Convoy," now at ‘tile Capitol Theatre, when nine Chinese extras walked oil the Uni- versal set alter lodcvelopeu they were to portray; traitors to uerlcrzll- lsslmo Cluung Kul-bilek.

The characters in me script had to be changed to native oi 00.1.- pletczy llolluescript origin.

‘Featured in the illnl une Charles Blcktord Evelyn Ankcrs and Frank Albertson. Acuon o1 the story lakes place along the famous Asiatic ingu- way known as tile , Burma ROVQd. where endless truck caravans curry supplies and munitions to beleaguer- ed (‘JUDGSE forces.

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I RADIO

TRANSMISSION Eastern Daylight Saving Tlmo WAVELENGTH Throughout (10.80 pm.) Western Canada-HM m. (to l0 00 pm.) 49.10 m. (from Canada. and UB.A.—3l 32 m 25.53

IJZIIURSDAY. DECEMBER l8

5.15 London Calling!

5.80 ‘Front Line Family‘ -- Eps- lodo 1'79.

5.4.5 Talk: ‘Books and SIIOWI.’

6.00 ‘Hello. Children!’ 6.15 ‘Shins of Une Royal Navy.‘ H.M.S. Orion.’ 6.30 ‘CalLng the West Indiesz’ .

‘Thing; that Endure.

6.46 The News.

6.56 News Analysis by Kevin O'Carroll.

7.00 war Commentary: ‘The War 1n the Air.’ Talk by Oliver

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War--25 Years Ago Todcy

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TAICUM POIVDIR

_ phatically. deserve it. I've never met a real

urlng you'd told mo before,"

J. Pattersons he had been when thrce had been traveling east -'o gether.

Yes —she had been the opport- unist. not he. “Well. we were rivals," she smiled. “We can still be. I havn't clinched the assign- ment yet."

‘But it's all yours." he said em- "Of course it. ls. You

Riril lroporter lbefore. but now I know they're tops." Pat held out a hand. “Good-bye, Connie. Good luck. You were a swell trouper."

His lips twisted irl half a smile, crooked, s bit unsteady. "Only wish he said. “Maybe I could have given you one more ‘item’ for your story."

He left her standing there alone in the kitchen with the little old lady who believed in Providence.

I IO U O O

The woman who lived in the farmhouse and put her faith in Providence and the nun at Mercy Hospital who trusted in prayer, would never know each other. But they shared something very much akin.

The nun came down the corridor to the ward where Lila Ernst sat huddled ln bed. Liln heard the footsteps and the rustle of the slarrhod hnbEtflYou have news for me?" she begged.

The nun noded and the way her eyes smiled told that the news was happy.

Deep inside Lila, the heart which had been so labored quick- ened with a sudden spurt.

Pclliaps the sister noticed, for she pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed as if she had all the time in the world. "What's this young man, Pat Patterson?" she asked

"Pat Patterson-he's the one who promised to take my little boy home to Connecticut for me"

“He telephoned from a little town a hundred miles away, in the Nlellrenies. Cut through all the red tape of hospital routine and demanded to talk with the sister in charge of this ward. A persis- tant person."

“Yes, sister. And Skippy -— tell mo, is he all right?"

"Flt as a fiddle," the nun laid. The bus was marooned in the snow all night and the passengers took refuge in a schoolhouse. Road ploughs have rcacPed it now. Everyone is safe and well."

Lila leaned back, letting the words sink in, warming her, com- farting her, "What else — what else did he say about Bldppy?"

"He said the little boy had been making snowmen. And ho wanted me to tell you that Skippy is-" and here she hesitated for just an instant as if to say the rllrase was not hers but the persistent young Pat's "-t.hat Skippy is a swell trouper."

Lila. smiled. “Of course he is."

The nun went on, "They'll be on their way soon. Mr. Patterson pro- mised that he and the girl will sec your little boy rig/ht to the door of tho house in Connecticut."

"Everyone"; so good." Lila cloc- ~ed her eyes. She knew now what the sister had meant by prayer.

The nun was brisk. professslonal again. taking the pulse and smoothing‘ the sheets. "If you want to be wi your son for Christmas, you must ry to get well right away."

Lila nodded. She would get wolll But it was as if her heart once it had started to hammer in relief. couldn't stop. Elie gripped her hands under the blankets.

“Guess you don't" want to hear the radio no more," the woman in the next bed said.

"Why, sure. It'll be wonderful to hear lt now." As if she could ever hear enough of the news reports that the bus passengers were safe and on their way!

woman tuned and dialed. There was a soft whir as the radio warmed and then a small burst of sound into the ward room. It wasn't a news broadcast. It wasn't a Christmas carol. Instead. some- one was singing sweet. familiar words -- "The world is waiting for the sunrise."

Lila Ernst. fighting back the swift j_~.b of pain. smiled. Yea, the world had been waiting for it and it had come. unseen through the snow. Not the sunrise. but the whole sun itself flooded through the window in the ward.

CHAPTER XIX

When Pat Patterson walked out the door of the farmhouse kitchen and out of her life. Constance Dawson stood uncertain for a.

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hire a car to take her to the near- est flying field -— board a. plane for New York. _

What had happened had been an interlude, uncanny, beautiful in parts but completely unreal. What was real was that Mr. Higgins wanted to see her in the New York Press Bureau zls quickly as she could make it

She rang the operator. "Thanks

for the fine service," aha said.

“It was thrilling. Looks like you've put our little town on the map."

Connie laughed. “Now that I've done all that, I must leave - in a hurry, too. I'll nccd to hire a car to take me to the nearest flying field where I oan board a. plane."

“No more bus?" A giggle sound- ed over the wire.

"Never!" Connie assured her.

As J18 waited to make arrange- ments for the blew York flight. Connie realizel that the diamond clips from Jerry were still in her hand, clenched so tightly they'd mottled the palm. She mapped them into place on the neck line of lxcr blue wool dress. Thcy sct up a. crlsmlde of rainbow lights in the kitchen. Tins was what she wanted ——t0 get. to Jerry before Christmas. Nothing must hold her back.

But all the time the thought of Pat Patterson intruded. “flier: lmd he gone-what he done urhen he had first chance to flash llzc news?

She spoke to the operator llgaln. This was the advantage of a small- town exchange, of a line on an E. 1". D.

“By the way," she said. "there was another reporter aboard the bus. The one who put through the first call."

Connie could almost see the operator hesitate. puzzled st this remark. "No -I don't think he was o. reporter. The first call was to a hospital in Pittsburgh und all the man talked about was a little boy. I kinda. figured he was the one the little kid belonged to."

"Well — that's right," Connie answered slowly. "Ho is the one the little boy belongs t0."

So that had been ltl Just as Pat himself had said it - the news story hadn't seemed half so im- portant to him as other things, such u calling the hospital where Lila. Ernst would have been herself with anxiety for Skippy, and his getting back to the school.

She should have known It all along. Poor, foolish, gallant Pat Patterson.

Something warned her. “I'm-net the Idealist from Tanbark City."

Speed. Action - that was what oountcd. Bile hadn't lied or cheated in get her story . The worst she'd (lone was to have misjudged the re-llead.

But now something else came up to haunt her. Pat Patterson's white face-the remote and Impersonal way he had looked at her, all the tenderness gone from his eyes.

"Oh Jerry." she said half aloud, “if I don't reach you soon it's go- ing to be too late-for both of us."

That was the thought wh‘ch whipped her through the next fcw rushing hours. First, the car. to

M19011. 8D

513611510310

\

records today on the white and glazed road. Every turn of the chain-linked wheel grated on Connie Dawson.

When we finally rmched the airport she stood punled for a minute.

It might have been another Smithton, Ohio. There was the same small terminal -- the same flurry of excitement. And the plane which had been held over on account of the weather might have been a duplicate of the one which hnd come down 1n Ohio yesterday.

Had the twenty-four hours from the time she'd nlighted at the Slnlthton field and this moment. now when she was again boarding a plane really happened at all?

She bought her passage and stepped into the plane. As the last of the snow wus cleared from the runway, the ship taxied and then started to lift. slowly.

"Don't look back." somethl warned Constance Dawson, an she didn't.

But she did look down alter a while, far down through llie late

wintry afternoon. There was a hlghuroy which sccni-rd from this height. like a lane through the

snow. Something moved alorr; lt. slowly. steadily. A bus!

Connie closed her eyes quickly. The drummer would be aboard, a iresn cigar lizlltcd.

Th2 middle-aged woman pro- bably hlrl her knltlim needles flv- ing again. The paroee would be

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there, face pressed to the window, (W68 expresslonless. Janet Circli- the school teacher - was she I511 sitting beside the young mln- Two others would be among the pm- engcrs-a redhead and a little b"! named Skippy. It wasn't quite as Connie Dawson pictured it. Jim Bardley wasn't aboard i110 bus. He'd stayed behind to have the injured ankle dressed and lun- daged. Just as well, too. he lzncw- For when he had seen Put Ikltitt: son, he'd spilled the lvnul- 5.1;» about himself. Oh, ll.“ kncw ill? secret would be snlc, but litvl- lied told he felt embarrassed. KWQ-l-‘l- Much better not to have l.~l ince the other passengers nfltllll» r And Janet Gregg WASH! muff-S bus. still trllvellnc (‘fliillfilffl- billy explained quzetly l0 Lgrur l-d she had changed her plans an wanted to return home. I m "Yea. it can be arrange-Imp right," Egan answered. Elm)?“ O_ tlcally. “But I'm fllfliltl s0"? g , ing to have a Ions W! l“ west-bound bus." “It doesn't matter)‘, Her nose was red “"111 I coming cold and now her \'.\