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T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
July, 1939
As for Fonda, she could not control her feelings. They were running wild, refusing to be repressed. She wished she knew whether he and Rita were already married. She had heard they were. It was torment ing to touch his hand, to remember, to doubt, to hope. She traced the Heart Line from its source under the little finger, across the hand toward—and onto the Mount o f Ambition! “Ah!”. Her voice was psychic. “I see— I see a brilliant marriage!” That was the reading, yes, but the romantic Heart Line, fringed with minute contact lines, could not tell her whether that marriage were past or future. She pressed his fingers back. Heart. Head, Life, and Fate Lines took on a pur plish cast, making the labyrinth of stars, cross lines, and fringes more clearly dis cernible. She gasped again. The Life Line around the base o f the thumb was identical with her own! There was a break in exact ly the same place! She thought quickly. Her jealousy of Rita was flooding her mind like an angry river out of its banks, sweeping everything before it. And into that river flowed the raging torrent of another—hatred for Rita. And still another—superstition, belief in the accuracy of the reading, the meaning of the broken Life Line. She glanced quickly at her wrist watch. It was one o’clock. Time to go to her room at the hotel. Time to—her eyes fell upon the grinning human skull from whose eyes purple incense streamed. She laughed hysterically, a harsh, bitter laugh. Eight years of believing it! Of hoping and doubt ing and believing! The river raged madly on, sweeping away all reason. If Fonda Amundsen could not have Gordon Harring ton, neither should Rita Martineau! She had to see him alone somewhere, she told him. It was desperately important. Could he take her riding in his car? Yes (to herself she said it), it would happen tonight. Tonight! Then the misery would be over. Jealousy would have wrought sweet revenge. The torment of waiting for it would be past. Fate was driving her on. ★ * * * They were in the car now, speeding out through the open country, the road in the glare of the headlights stretching like a smooth white ribbon ahead of them, thread ing its way through cornfields, through bar ren wheatfields, across bridges, over hills, now winding, now straight. Fate Line, curving, twisting, crossing the Life Line . . ! She was reading the giant hand of the prairie itself . . . the hand that held ten million people in its hollow . . . She pressed herself close against his arm, loving him with all her former intensity, knowing it was foolish to allow herself even this moment of pleasure. It would soon be over. Soon. "Faster!” she cried suddenly. ' I’ve been shut up all night in that horrible tent— every night all summer—staring at the image of Buddha and that hideous skull until I think I’ll scream with the monotony!” The Car was doing sixty now. The road was as smooth as a floor. Pacify her, Gordon thought, and then speak. Speak of Christ.
“Oh, I just want to fly and fly!" she cried. "Faster! Please, Gordon! I think I'll go crazy if I don’t have a change. You don't know how near I am to the breaking point!" The car was doing sixty-five . . . Shoot ing like a comet across the prairie. In her mind, she was seeing the Life Line in the palm of her hand—hers and his—sweeping in a long curve around the base of the thumb, down, down toward the “Bracelets” of the wrist. There was a break in the Life Line— in both palms! At exactly the same place! . . . If he drove fast enough, if he drove wildly enough, there would be a crash—and death for them both. “Can't you go faster?” she screamed. The clock on the dash said one-twenty. Her screaming troubled him. She didn’t need any more excitement. This was Fri day night, he remembered. There was a midnight program from Denver which would be coming in now. Twelve to one, Mountain Time; one to two, Central Stand ard Time. There was nothing more quiet ing to the nerves than sweet music of the kind that came in over KOA at this time every Friday night. Though he did not realize it, it was this midnight program that, during the past weeks, had influenced Gordon’s own thinking, had made him hun ger more for reality, and had paved the way for what had just transpired in the store. But how would Fonda react to such music? At Ames she had not seemed to care for it. He wrestled with the thought and with himself. Was he trying to rescue Fonda from her carnival life because of his own natural affection for her, or be cause of his love for the Lord Jesus Christ who had died for her as well as for him? There was no time now to argue the point. He knew he loved her desperately; he knew also that the love of Christ within him was like a well of water springing up unto ever lasting life. Oh, what a fool he had been the past year! How much he had lost! A whole year of life, lost so far as witnessing was concerned, and Fonda? Her soul was lost! Yonder in the store it had seemed such an easy thing to do—to yield to the Lord Jesus Christ in an aggressive and earnest sincerity. But here in the thick of the battle, he realized that he was wrestling not alone with his thoughts and with himself, but against Principalities and Powers. To turn that switch and bring in the gospel program might make Fonda angry, might incur her ridicule! . . . He flung the thought from him. He must take the consequences, be willing to suffer reproach for Christ’s sake, if need be. He reached over to the dash, his hand on the switch. [T o be Continued]
extra “parity payments.” Demoralized and disillusioned, resigned to the "inevitable,” the economy advocates offered slight resist ance to the drive to increase expenditures all along the line. The result is that this year's budget will top $9,000,000,000. The deficit will be in excess of $4,000,000,000. C. I. O. COMEBACK?: Capitol observers believe that the victory scored by John L. Lewis in the short-lived coal strike is only the prelude to a new C. I. O. advance on all fronts. Mr. Lewis has been counted out before, but each time he has come back most spectacularly. His victory in the coal strike could not have been won without Administration assistance. Hence, Lewis remains very decidedly in the political picture of 1940 and thereafter. The C. I. O. victory in the coal fields was the signal for renewed activity on the part of the American Federation of Labor for revision of the Wagner Labor Act. The Administration, however, is siding with the C. I. O. against any change. Consequently, no revision will be enacted prior to 1940, in all probability. Whoever may be the candidates for the rival parties in 1940, the C. I. O. and the A. F. of L. seem sure to be on opposite sides of the fence. In 1936, both labor factions supported Mr. Roosevelt. RADIO REFORM DIFFICULT: The in creasing perfection of radio carries with it the enhancement of this device as a means of influencing public opinion. The “power of the press” is declining as the power of radio increases. More and more people get their news and opinions over the air. Last year, newspaper circulation dropped 4.4% daily and 1.5% weekly. Advertising drop ped 13.1%. Radio gains, as newspapers lose. A growing peril to democracy must be recognized in the spreading prestige of radio. Our Constitution guarantees freedom of the press, but preserving freedom of the air lanes is another matter. Radio stations must be licensed. Printing presses can never be licensed—in a free country. The power to grant, or withhold, a license to a radio station carries with it the power to control the broadcasts of that station. By the very nature of the radio, it would seem that a potential control over it cannot be removed from the governmental licens ing agency. "Reforms” proposed for radio are along two conflicting lines. One group of radio critics say there is too much free dom of the air. They argue that there should be more censorship. The other group con tends there is too much censorship already. Their contention is that, especially with respect to political issues, absolute freedom for all sides should be enforced. The law, however, may require “impartiality,” but when the station owner knows that he must renew his license every six months, he is most prone to be “partial” to any indirect hint or suggestion coming from those who have influence with the licensing authority. There seems to be no way whereby the ingenuity of reformers can devise a set-up which would make freedom of the air as absolute and inalienable as it is with respect to the press.
V IE W S AN D R E V IE W S [Continued from page 253]
himself with this school of thought. Power ful propaganda and pressure for "bigger and better spending” was centered on the “economy-minded” Senators. Finally, they yielded. The immediate issue was the new agricultural relief ap propriation, adding some $400,000,000 in
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