Atlanta Daily World

CALAMITY
SYNOPSIS

Incognito as "Ellery Smith," Mr. Queen is visiting war industrial Wrightsville to write another novel. He leased a house from John F. Wright, a banker, which had been designed by the latter and his wife, Hermione, as a honeymoon home for their eldest daughter, Nora. Her fiance, James Haight, had disappeared on the eve of the wedding. Her sister, Lola, lives apart from the family: she had eloped and returned divorced. The youngest Miss Wright, Patricia, is "going with" the county prosecutor, Carter Bradford. Author "Smith" is in the process of being made a literary lion by Mrs. "Hermy Wright." Ellery likes his new quarters, though local gossip calls it 'Calamity House." One day, "Pat" tells Ellery that "Jim Haight's back!" and that Nora has refused to see him. Haight's return becomes the talk of the town. Lawyer Bradford, incensed by "Pat's" attention to Author "Smith," makes a scene during a bridge party in the Wright home, but this was topped when Nora's stifled cry calls attention to "Jim" Haight in the archway. Then she runs upstairs, "Jim" followed, and they returned soon to announce they will be married shortly. At the wedding, Ellery saw Frank Lloyd, Nora's former suitor, skulking behind a weeping willow. While the honeymooners were away, Ellery moved to the Wright home next door.

CHAPTER NINE

Nora and Jim stepped off the train the color of Hawaiians. Jim grinned at his father-in-law. "What! Such a small reception committee?"
"Town's thinking about other things these days, Jim," said John F. "Draft registration tomorrow."
They crowded into the big family limousine and started for home.
"Nora baby, you look wonderful!" declared Hermy. Nora did.
"I've put on ten pounds," she laughed.
"How's married life?" queried Carter Bradford.
"Why not get married and find out for yourself, Cart?" countered Nora.
"What chance has a man got," growled Carter, "with that smooth-talking author in the house?"
"Unfair competition," cut in Jim.
"In the house!" exclaimed Nora. "Mother, you never wrote me!"
"It was the least we could do," explained Hermy, "seeing how sweet he was about giving up his lease."
"Nice fella," said John F. "Bring back any stamps?"
But Pat urged impatiently: "Nora, shake off these men and let's you and I go somewhere and ... talk."
"Wait till you see what Jim and I brought—" Nora's eyes grew big as the family limousine stopped in the Wright driveway. "Jim, look!"
"Surprise!" The little house by the big one glistened in the October sunshine. It had been repainted: the fresh white of the clapboard walls, the turkey-red of the shutters and "trim," the Christmas green of the newly relandscaped grounds made it look like a delectable gift package.
"And just wait, children," beamed Hermy, "till you see the inside."
"Absolutely spick and utterly span," chirped Pat. "Ready to receive the lovebirds. Nora, you're blubbing!"
"It's so beautiful," wept Nora, hugging her father and mother. And she dragged her husband off to explore the interior of the house that

Queen's short tenure, far from frightened years. Mr. Queen had packed his night bag the day before the newlyweds' return and had taken the noon train. Pat said it showed he had "a fine character." Whatever his "reason, Ellery returned the day after draft registration, to find bustle and laughter in the little house next door, and no sign whatever that it had been known as Calamity House.
"We do want to thank you for giving up the house, Mr. Smith," said Nora. "That hundred-watt look is my reward."
"Flatterer!" retorted Nora, and tugged at her starchy little apron. "I look a sight—"
"For ailing eyes. Where's the happy bridegroom?"
"Jim's down at the railroad station picking his things up. Before

placed at his disposal. Hermy, Pat, and Ludie could hear his portable clacking away until immoral hours. He saw little of Jim and Nora, but they seemed happy. At the bank Jim had found waiting for him a private office with a new oak desk and a bronze plaque, proclaiming: MR. HAIGHT V.-PRES. Old customers dropped in to wish him luck and ask about Nora. The little house was popular, too. The ladies of the Hill called and called, and Nora gave them tea and smiles. Hermy was proud of her married daughter. So Mr. Queen decided that Calamity House was buried beyond resurrection. He began to make plans to invent a crime in his novel, since life was so uncooperative. October 29 came and went, and with it the published figures of the Federal draft lottery: Jim Haight

Jim Haight grinned at his father-in-law. "Such a small reception committee?"

he came back from his apartment in New York he'd packed his books and clothes and things and shipped them to Wrightsville, care of General Delivery, and they've been held in the baggage room ever since. Here he is! Jim, did you get everything?"
Jim waved from Ed Hotchkiss's cab, which was heaped with suitcases, nailed boxes, and a wardrobe trunk. Ed and Jim carried them into the house. Ellery remarked how fit Jim looked, and Jim with a friendly handclasp thanked him for "being so decent about moving out."
Nora wanted Mr. "Smith" to stay for lunch. But Ellery said he'd take advantage of that invitation when Nora and Jim weren't so busy getting settled: and he left. The last thing "the famous author" saw was Jim and Nora in each other's arms. Mr. Queen grinned. If the bride's house hid a calamity within its walls, it was hidden superlatively well.
Ellery attacked his novel with energy. Except for mealtimes, he remained in his quarters on the top floor, the whole of which Hermy had

and Carter Bradford drew high order-numbers: Mr. Queen was observed to drop in at the Hollis Hotel early on the morning of the thirtieth for a New York newspaper, upon reading which he was seen by Mark Doodle's son Grover to shrug and toss the paper away.
Hallowe'en was mad. People on the Hill answered mysterious doorbells all day. Menacing signs in colored chalk appeared on pavements. As evening came on, costumed gnomes began to flit about town, their faces painted and their arms flapping. And many of them went to bed with tingling bottoms.
Mr. Queen strolled about the neighborhood before dinner wishing he were young again so that he, too, might enjoy Hallowe'en. On his way back to the Wright house, he noticed that the Haight place next door was lit up; and on impulse he went up the walk and rang his ex-doorbell. But it was Pat, not Nora, who answered the door.
"Thought you'd run out on me," said Pat. "We never see you any more."
Then she announced, "It's the famous author, Nora."
(To be continued)
Copyright by Little, Brown & Co. Distributed by King Features Syndicate, Inc.