Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 9, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 May 1923 — Page 8

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r m Tt\ THE UNFAMILIAR Jjj TRIANGLE /I BY E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM V " ■ yAMICHAJCL ■I Copyright. 1922. by E Phillips Oppenhelm AIiLV.ORMAM Arrgt NEa Service. Inc lr I

Vendetta begins between MICHAEL SAYEES. noted criminal, and SIR NORMAN GREYES, once of Scotland Yard, when Sayers’ beautiful housemaid, JANET, saves him from Sir Norman by shooting dead an officer sent to arrest him. Janet becomes Sayers’ wife and accomplice. In numerous escapades Michael narrowly escapes capture by taking desperate chances. Because Greyes recognizes many good qualities in Janet he deals with her leniently. After the Leeds bank robberv. Sayers is forced to flee the country. Returning to England at a later date, he again resumes command of his dangerous gang of criminals. Janet, somewhat tired of the game, gradually awakens to the fact that Michael is a hard taskmaster. She compares him with Sir Norman Greyes. THIS, as near as I can remember. Is a copy of the letter I received that wonderful third day of March: We beg to inform you that, under the will of the late William Soale, gardener of Mayford, Surrey, you are entitled to a legacy of £250, free of duty. As the estate is so small, and the ■ assets are chiefly in Wax Loan, we are in a position to pay you that sum at once, if you wdll favor us with a call, or your instructions. Faithfully, HASKEL & HAMES. After a great deal of consideration, I took a first-class passage to Mar- ; seilles. In the name of Janet Soale. on the slowest P. & O. boat I could find. I spent a moderate sum in re plenishing my wardrobe, sewed a him dred pounds note in my bodice, and started on my adventure.' Then the natural thing happened. My interest in life began to revive. I was young and strong. The sunshine, the salt air, the complete change, did their work. I made some slight change in my toilet one night, and arranged my hair differently. Half a dozen people made an excuse to come and talk to me that night on deck. I had as many offers of an escort to ■view the sights when we landed at Gibraltar on the following day. Men. however, made no appeal to me. I preferred to join a small party, mostly composed of people who sat at my table.

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MR. POPPLE REFUSED TO ACCEPT MY PLAIN HINTS. HE DRAGGED HIS CHAIR TO .MV CORNER. We wandered about the place in the usual disjointed fashion, striving to assume the tourist’s intelligent interests in the jumble of Spanish remains, modem fortifications, burnous-clad Moors and pretennaturally withered Spaniards. Finally we wandered into the hotel for tea, served in a lounge which one of my traveled companions described as the very quintessence of spurious Orientalism. I was steeped in amazement at something I saw in the face of the woman who had been its solitary occupant before our coming. She war moderately young, quietly but expensively dressed, of small but graceful figure ad with large dark eyes. She was glaring at me with an expression of intent and deliberate malignity. To

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OVER 68 YEARS OF SUCCESS

the best of my belief I had never seen her before. We somehow or other found places at a table. My immediate neighbor was an elderly American gentleman who had once or twice spoken to me on the voyage, but who seemed to spend most of Ills time seeking former business associates. Ills name was Frank Popple. ‘“Say, are you acquainted with the lady in the corner?" he asked curiously. * I shook my head. “I have never seen her before,” I assured him. “Is that so?” he replied incredulously. “Didn’t you notice, her looking kind of fierce. "I thought she had probably mistaken me for someone else,” I said. I received a further shock about an hour later, when I found the same woman enseonsed in a corner of the tender which was to take us back to the steamer. She scowled at me sullenly when we came on board; and acting entirely on impulse, I w r alked straight across to her. “Have I offended you in any way?" I inquired. “It seems to me that we are strangers.” She looked at me steadfastly. Her face, u hieh normally must have been sofi and pret*y, had become hard and coin. “You are Janet Stanfield are you not?” she asked. “That Is certainly my name," I admitted, more puzzled than ever. She looked at me in doubting silence. “I have seen your picture,” she said gloomily. “Where?” “In New York. He carried it with him." • • • She turned deliberately away, as though determined not to enter into any further conversation. I found her unsoclabllity to some extent a relief, hut when I stepped on board again, my blessed peace of mind was gone. 1 relapsed into my former frame of mind endeavored to ke*p away from every one. Mr. Popple, however, refused to accept my plain hints. He dragged his chair over to my corner on deck. "Mrs. Louisa K. Martin —that lady e name." he informed me. "She comes from way out West, beyond Milwaukee. She is getting out at Marseilles.” “I had forgotten all about her," I replied mendaciously. “I’d give her a wide berth if I were you.” he advised. “Traveling about as much as I do, I've got kind of used to taking stock of people's expressions, and the way she looked at you was real mean.” I declined to continue the eonver- 1 sation and announced my intention cf going to bed. As T entered the music-room on The way to my cabin, there was a curious cessation of conversation. Mrs. Louisa K. Martin, who was seated in an easy-ehair. very becomingly dressed in black, with a long rope of pearls around her neck, looked at me with steady insolence. I walked straight up to her chair. I knew that she had been saying things about me. and I was furious. “Are you meeting my husband at ! Marseilles, Mrs. Martin?” I asked her. I was sorry for the question directly the words had left my lips—sorry for her too. in a way. She turned . deathly pale, and if looks could have ! killed. T should have been a dead ' woman. She made no answer at all. j 1 waited for a moment and then passed on to my stateroom. • * It must have been about 10 o’clock ! that night, when I heard a soft tapping at my door. I guessed at once who it was, and I guessed rightly. It was Mrs. Louisa Martin, wrapped in a dressing-gown and with slipers on her feet. She closed the door carefully, and she put her fingers to her lips. “We must he careful,” she whispered. “You were mad to speak of Michael openly.” “Os my husband?” She laughed contemptuously. “He married me years before you,” she replied, "and another before either of us." I turned away from her. that she , should not see the hate In my face. ! Some conviction of this sort had been | growing upon me of late. “■When two women love the same man," Louisa Martin continued "they should forget everything when he Is In danger. I don't see love in your face." she went on. “Then why are you here?” “I see no reason why I should discuss that or any other subject with you,” I answered. "But as a matter of fact I had no idea that Michael was In Marseilles.'’ I thought that she would have struck me. The fire of unbelief blazed | in her eyes. “What are you doing on this steam- • er then?" she demanded. "I came for a holiday trip,” I told her. She leaned a little toward me. In the unshaded light of the cabin her face seemed wan, almost aged. “Listen.” she said: “this is a matter !of life or death for Michael. You ! heard through some of his being in Marseilles. Tell me through whom." “I swear that T had no idea he was there,” I repeated. “You fool!” she exclaimed. “Can’t you see that you are probably followed —that the jiolice'hre making use of you” “You are in the same position your- | self.” I reminded her. “Indeed T ajn not,” she assured me ! earnestly “I was born in Marseilles. T hav" traveled there repeatedly. T i know every corner and stone of the place. It was I who taught Michael that it was the finest, hiding place in ■he world for the educated criminal. It was I who took him where he is now.” Our conversation was suddenly interrupted in a very unexpected fashion. My stewardess entered, with, a thin blue strip In her hand. “Wireless for you. Mrs. Soale,” she! anounoed. addressing me by the name under which T had booked my passage. “For me?" I repeated incredulously. “There must be some mistake. Nobody knows that I am on hoard.’’ “It's Mrs. Soale. right enough.” Hie stewardess assured me. “There’s no one else of that name among the passengers.” ' \

DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—

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TliJoAl days is GONE FOREVER

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SAY Tu" NO-MO-7MATsY— —id fc.IT FURIT\ •P OLD MACHINE R JUST THE V 7 til R (JA, r , '"W lroKnoC SOKBTHIHG, WENT WRONG WITH 77AE HANDLE WHILE HENRY APPLEGATE WAS V/WD/NG OP HIS PLEASURE CAR. : To DAY— NKA 3ERVI< AS|^ r : ■-jfijjMffiW- /

I tore open the envelope. My companion watched me with glittering eyes. She could scarcely wait until the stewardess had departed. “You liar!” she raged. You see what you have done! You have laid a trail for the police to follow from London to Marseilles.” She poured out abuse. I heard nothing. My whole attention was fixed upon these few words staring at me from the telegraph form: “Dombey 31st March Genesis

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

tut: OJA) HOME TOWN—By STAN.LEY

Louise.” I felt her wrist suddenly grip mine. 1 She read the message over my shoulder. “Get the Code,” she whispered hoarsely. ‘Quick!'' "What code?” X demanded. “I don’t know what you're talking about.” I suppose she must have been convinced at last, for she dropped my wrist and hurried to the door. (Continued in Our Next Issue)

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOY OF 9 PREFERS AUNTJO MOTHER CHICAGO, |say-' 21.—A 9 year-old boy here has renounced his mother In

A Story Without Words

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Broach This in the Beanery.

(V k\\t\\S HIAT) YOUR TAJAO . , *N fi SCHOOL REPORT FOR LkST fJJ HE A ; MOkiTU vexes iae greaYlV? \ ' HeaeacUe Oli, YVD iOscHool., - IT is vjrm PEEP pmU I ' GiUetJ Ue FIGURED - UErt s£& : VOTE VOUR SUoIUUg id FIFT/ FEkiCE POftfeU tDIYJwrYc - A IUDI/Hlr crCT TOO MAkIV AV UE \ LIKE A kJAL—’ uv V , D ?, K lL° \ToLT) MH- KID YO PUrW -THEY UAD To YV.I ns, Hn VIORD.-MIVD \IU TA’ aUsuJer / A Poiivl'D rs td!VOII.UJUEkI A MERE LAD AT -ATUaTTUeY COULD/ V J primary sciAool r asTooUded f goYuOcLEte yi be used for/ lr The faculty WITH my I got TUaT V repairs \y \ SOLUTION OFTRIGOVoMETRICAL mark IwJ'RnU- f ' PROBLEMS TUaT EYEkJ I METcFROMTU’ ILjJ \ l baffled professors of J J problem You l h l/ 0 \ ADVANCED MaAUEMAII cs. r / HELPED ME 00, \ JhJI abouT-w* FeOce ... —fjf K S>UOVJI)IG \kJ uj,

favor of an aunt with whom he had made his home. Running to the aunt, the boy said: ‘‘l want to be with you, not with my mother.” The boy is William McAvoy, son of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas McAvoy, 2527 W. Twenty-First St. The aunt. Mrs. Bridget N. Bransfield, 3300 S. Irving Ave., was granted custody of the lad a few weeks ago when she presented a document signed by the father, in which he agreed to William's adop-

FRECKLES AND IHS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

tion by the aunt on payment of $73. Subsequently to the court's ruling, after seeing the contract, Mrs. McAvoy kidnaped the child and fled to Cedar Rapids with him. She was returned here on a order When arraigned she expressed contrition for having defied the court and begged for clemency, because of her large family. Judge Walter Bretver pronounced her guilty of contempt cf court, but suspended sentence with the statement:

TUESDAY, MAY 22, 1923

-By ALLMAN

—By AL POSEN

“It you promise not to molest thlS child any longer you will not be sent to Jail.” Clean white paper, bearing no printed matter. Is to be compulsory in Paris shops for wrapping meat, cheese, or any’ other moist food. £eless people wandering In Lonreets on one night last Februumbered 137, as compared with t year.