Letter dated July 4, 1935 Ned Scott to Gladys von Ettinghausen
from the Hassayampa Mountain Club, Prescott, Arizona.

Gladys Darling—

What a week it has been!—Peggy—Ellen and I arrived about eight days ago only to find ourselves faced with —what seemed months—of cleaning and painting—etc.—It is so different now—tastes of bygone days have disappeared and in its stead everything is new and clean to look at. But nevertheless it has been most amusing to watch these two—Jack and Ellen—they are both frightened to death of being left alone together—Jack’s “Philadelphia”—which he tries so hard to forget—crops out so often—he wants so terribly to be an ‘Arizona Cow Man’ but he just cannot make the grade. There have been difficult times too—times when Ellen wished she had not done this thing—as irrevocable as it is—times when they both realize what an impossible situation it is—God knows what the outcome will be—Peggy and I were returning to Prescott four days ago but we were prevailed upon to remain by Jack—seems Jack invited a fair maiden of 26 to come and pay him a visit—this was several months ago—she answered that she would just as soon as he had bought a ranch—he received a wire two days ago to the effect she would arrive today by plane from Boston—Jack is now in town to meet her—I’m expecting him any moment—Peggy and I just can’t wait to see the developments—if there are any! Peggy predicts that Ellen will be back in Prescott next week!—hope not—Henwar is supposed to be coming out for a few days to visit Babs.—All of which sounds interesting enough from this end but quite boring from yours—sorry—I forgot you know none of the people but Ellen—(–) I plan to leave tomorrow—just as soon as the lady from Boston has been presented in the proper atmosphere! My God, even in this wild country two people can’t live in sin—and strangely enough—there is no ‘sin’ going on! Oh nuts—the idiots—-.

Darling—how are you?—and what are you doing?—judging from the inflow of mail from Landfair Ave it is difficult to discover much—!

In my last letter to you dearest—I meant to add that I had run across a certain lady by the name of Blodwynne Meyers—in the Grand Canyon Hotel—and she had with her a very meek looking man she called her husband—. As soon as she mentioned having lived in San Francisco and Seattle I immediately inquired if she knew you and it developed that she knew your whole family and John Considine—thanks God there aren’t many Blodwynes in the world!—And incidentally—how the hell does one spell her name?—

Henwar wrote the other day that a certain Publicity Agency had called him up to inquire about me and if I would be interested in a steady job as cameraman—to do commercial with—and publicity. I wrote them that I was interested—of course—held out for $100.—a week—Foolish no doubt—to expect so much on a steady job but if they want me badly enough they can begin work jewing me down—Sure would give anything for a steady job in that town—

I have written Cornelia and sent her telegrams—about Tom—but so far I have had no reply. I’m wondering what’s up—do you know anything—and have you seen her recently—?

And so—Good evening Golden Arrow—you are so very close these days—there is so much beauty everywhere when you are as near as you have been recently—my love—if you were only here now to see out this window—the mountains enveloped in purple and red and yellow—splashes of light— moving—always moving—like you—

Ned

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