Indianapolis Times, Volume 36, Number 106, Indianapolis, Marion County, 10 September 1924 — Page 8

NEVER SHOT GUN BEFORE, BUT KILLS U.SM BANDIT Congratulated by President and Given $2,000 Reward. Times Washington Bureau, 1322 New Tork Ave. WASHINGTON, Sept. 10.— V Slender, lean-faced youth of 23 with his blond hair roached back In a big pompadour sat on the side of the bed at his hotel across the street from the Post Office Department, smoking a cigaret. “I don’t think," he said, "I had ever fired a gun before in my life except in and shooting gallery. I knew as much about fire-arms as a cow knows about astronomy.” It was midway in his story before Eugene L. Stack, summoned here by Postmaster General New to receive the first citation for heroism in the postal service, reached this point. He also got a $2,000 cash reward from the Government and was personally complimented by President Coolidge at the White House. Bandit Was Crack Shot Stack, a postal clerk at East Orange. N. J., was hit by four bullets in a battle with a mall bandit, but finally killed his man. The latter was Identified as John Manion, a former trooper in the New Jersey State police and one of the crack shots of that organization. With his big .45 pgstoffiee auto matic strapped at his side. Stack had gone to the depot shortly before daylight to receive the morning mail from New York. Two men stepped from, the rear end of the train as it pulled out. "First thing I knew,” Stack narrated, “one of these birds started shooting—and without saying a word, either. I guess he was going to murder me in cold blood. 1 jumped back into the elevator and started shooting, too. He fired six shots and I fired five. His companion ran, and then he turned and dashed after him.” Smiles at Bravery With the bandit's shot, Stack felt his right thumb go dead. Another bullet furrowed across his thigh. Two more cut holes in his coat. Manion was shooting close. "When he ran I beat it down to the baggage room and phoned for the police," Stack continued. “At the hospital they told me Manion had been found dead on the depot steps. His empty pistol and some cartridges were in his hands as if he had been trying to reload. There was a bullet close to his heart.” The first officially recognized hero of the postal service and the first to be personally complimented by a President smiled modestly at the mention of his bravery. "Pshaw,” he countered, “what would you do If a bjrd started popping at you with his gun—what else was there for me to doT”

FRENCHWOMEN ADMIREFLIRTINQ Boston Policewoman Gives Prefect a Jolt, Du Timet Special PARIS, Sept. 10.—Policewoman Irene McAuliffe of the Boston (Mass.) police department has given the prefect of police here an awful jolt and changed his views concerning the supposed freedom of folks in America. Miss McAuliffe is in Paris to learn something of how police work is done here and is studying methods In a chat with the prefect Miss McAuliffe said her work was rounding up mashers. The prefect has been puzzling over her statements ever since her call. . He cannot understand how mashing would come under police regulations. He views flirting as a deserved tribute to femininity, ans far from being e crime: looks upon it as one of* the privileges of the male. French women look upon a flirtation as a compliment. "~ After Miss McAuliffe had departed the prefect sent for an American reporter and asked if the Boston police really sought to check flirling. He hopes to come over 4nJ see for himself next vacatftn time. Miss McAuliffe having extended a cordial Invitation In the name of Commissioner Wilson.

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SAWDUST CAN BE USED WHEN BOSS MOOS FOR FOOD / Agriculture Department Experiment With New Product. WASHINGTON. Sept. 10.—The old vaudeville joke about painting sawdust green to make the family cow believe it was grass has become a reality. The joke was sprung; so often that an enterprising stock food company finally decided to give sawdust a trial. The first official use of the new product, called hydrolized Sawdust, has just been completed by the United States Department of Agriculture at its experiment farm at Beltsviile, Md. Cows will eat it, but extensive use is not advocated because the experiments* showed that the maximum value that can be assigned to the new food is 14.5 per cent of that of corn meal. Seven other new feeds for dairy cows were given a thorough test during the experiments. Compared With Standards In everj’ case the feed tried ouj. was compared with |ome standard *.eed as similar in composition as possible and one that might be replaced by the new feed if found satisfactory. The best results were obtained with sweet potato meal. This proved to almost as valuable as cornmeal. Fishmeal, though not so palatable as cottonseed tfneal, was found to be worth In food value from 20 to 25 per cent more pound for pound than prime cottonseed meal. Contrary to expectations, this meal had no effect on the milk. Peanut meal containing 27 per cent crude protein, was found to possess a value not exceeding 74 per cent of .prime cottoryeed meal. Potato meal was found to be worth nt more than 78 per cent as much as cornmeal. Molasses Recommended Velvet-bean meal was found to have a maximum value of not more than 65 per cent that of cottonseed meal. Potato silage and corn silage were found to possess about the same feeding value. Apple-pectin pulp compared with pulp was found to be less palatable and less efficient as a feed. The practice that some farmers have of supplementing a ration with cane molasses was found not to be economical, provided khe ration was already suitable. In cases where the food was of poor quality the use of molasses Is recommended, as It renders the feed more palatable, and induces a greater consumption of nutrients, a matter of importance in feeding exceptionally high-producing cows.

U.l DEPORTATION OT RUSSIANS IS DIFFICULT TASK Cannot Be Made to Leave— Soviet Government Not Recognized, ■WASHINGTON, Sept. 10.—More han 500 Russians ordered deported by the Department of Labor cannot be made to leave the country because the Russian soviet government is not recognized by the United States This situation was brought *to light when the American Civil Lib erties Union filed charges with Secretary of Labor Davis that “fake passports’* had been used to deport Russian nationals who cannot b legaUy deported in the absence of diplomatic relations. The Union's letter, signed by John Haynes Holmes, acting chairman, as serts that the department has been securing passports from a so-called "Ukranlan Diplomatic Mission,” an agency not recognized by either the Hnited States or by the Ukranlan government. Passports Not Honored Holmes also charged that Ukranlan passports have been used to deport alien radicals to Switzer land. Roumanla and Austria instead of to Russia, as called for in the orders of deportation. Commissioner Geiferal W. W. Hus band, mead of the bureau of immigration. admitted that the Labor De partment had formerly used passports Issued by the Ukranlan diplomatic mission, but said that none had been used since last Oetober.when European nations refused to honor them. The hundreds of Russians ordered deported are all at liberty under bond and cannot be deported until diplo matlc relations with Russia are re established. Returned at Government Expense The Civil Liberties Union charged that one of the deportees sent out on A so-called "fake” passport has just been returned to the United States on the Leviathan at Government expense because the German government had refused to honor the passport, even after it had been vised by the Swiss government. “Another, Michael Bilokunsky, who was deported to Switzerland on ; May 24, Is now 'stranded and starv- | ing’ in Vienna.” Holmes charged In his letter to, Secretary of Labor Davis. Commissioner Husband said that records in both of these cases show that the Swiss government had properly vised the passports, and promised an investigation to determine the truth of the charge that Bilckunsky was starving.

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BEGIN HERE TODAY The “Nervous Wreck,” an eccentric young easterner, is driving Sally Morgan from her father's ranch to the station when they run out of gasoline. At the point of a gun the Wreck takes five gallons from a passirig>u.r. Vhey are neld captive at a ranch owned by Mr. Underwood, who was in the ear which they held up. Tj*cy finally .escape from the ranch, run into a camp of real bandits, and then '•scape again. Fleeing from the bandit ••amp. they suddenly are confronted by Sheriff Bob Wells. Sally's fiance, wno 's at the head of a posse searching for the bandits. Angry, Sally breaks off her engagement with the sheriff ands married lo the Wreck by a justice of the peac4 who Is In the sheriffs posse. The marriage license is written o.i the back of an old road map. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY ii|A EE. Here's where we are,” he explained, putting a forefinger on the map. “You just follow the main road from here, going left, until you com© to this road. Wait; I’ll mark It for you. Then you follow the other road. It's**-® little twisty, but you can’t miss It. Keep right on the way I’m showing you until you come to this turn. You keep bearing to the right. That fetches you to another pike, and you follow that to the left. And there's the Bar-M right In there.” The Week nodded and the Judge folded the document again. “It ain’t over seventy miles at the outside,” he added. ‘And most of the road is fair. Just hang onto that paper and you’re all right. If you Want to know whether you’re married, read o: a side of it. If you want to know which way to go on your honeymoon, turn it over. That’s what I call a modern and improved public document, useful in more ways that one. Ain’t that so, Bob?” But the sheriff w?yt striding down the trail in the direction of the horses. “Well, good luck, folks,” said the judge, as he shook hands. "The posses's got official business on its hands. I reckon it ought to be easici than rolling flivvers.” Sally and the Wreck were left alone. They stood silently until the last member of the posse disappeared Then the Wreck looked at her awkwardly, coughed, reddened and kicked a stone

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

THE OLD4IOME TOWN—By STANLEY

rail. Suddenly ne walked over to the flivver and cranked it. "Get In,” he said. She got in, settled herself In the .seat and stared ahead of her. They followed the pike for nearly an hour, until they came to a road that crossed it. Not a word was spoken. He fumbled with the dogeared document, unfolded It and found the license uppermost. Hastily reversing it, he studied the map. “This is where we turn off.” he said. Sally merely shrugged. He turned the flivver Into the new road and drove on for awhile. “AND I DO LOVE YOU,” HE WAS s SAYING. The Wreck shut off the engine and jammed the brakes. He began to gesticulate. He became abruptly voluble, without any clear Idea of what he was saying. “Now, don’t you worry a particle. It's n>y fault, every bit of it. Os course, I hadn’t any business to. But —but—I just couldn’t help it, that’s all. I was dreaming, I guess. I got crazy notions. I thought maybe—well, anyffow, it’s my fault. And T ’m sorry: that, is If you're sorry. If

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you’re not— But what’s the use of talking about that? I'll do my best, you just see. I'll work my head off for you. I’ll do anything. Who wouldn't? You give me a chance, that’s all. I'll go back to Pittsburgh and I’ll make a million dollars for you. I'll give you anything in the world you want. All I want is a chance. I tell you. You just watch me. And I’ll make good, too. I've got to make good. You're the finest —Well, anyhow, I'm going to make you happy, if it breaks my neck. And maybe, after awhile—-Just try me. that's all. I’ll make good, as sure ks your name's Sally Morgan.” She turned to him with a faint smile on her lips. “But my name isn’t Sally Morgan,” she said. "Huh? Why—that’s right. I forgot.” His speech became lame again.” “Well that’s how I feel, anyway.” She studied him for several seconds, then laid a firm, warm hand over one of his, where it rested on the wheel. "Old-timer," she said gently, “you don't need all those words to say It in.” "But I wanted you to understand—” Perhaps I do.” “But you don’t. What I wanted you to understand was—was— It's foolish, but—” His voice suddenly rose to a shout. “Well, anyhow, 1 love you.” Sally’s fingers closed around his. “Now you’re talking, Henry Williams.” she said, contentedly. The Wreck swooped on her. It was minutes afterward when Sally freed herself, half laughing, half crying. There was a strange, wonderful lock In her eyes as she urveyed him —a look of proud, absurdly happy, possession. There he was, with his horn-rimmed spectacles, his squint, his old challenging air of defiance —Henry Williams, of Pittsburgh, Pa., Nervous Wreck—but all hers. “And I do love you,” he was saying; belligerently. “Os course,” said Sally. “But It took you so long—” He swooped again, expertly, for •lie Wreck was a quick student. “There.” exclaimed Sally. “Now you'd better get out and crank the flivver, or we’ll never make the Ba,r M tonight.” “But I want you to understand—” “You dear idiot, I understood long ago.” The Bar-M lay before them, almost at their feet. The ranch build ings huddled close to the ridge on the eastern side of the wide coulee, and the flivver was poised at the

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

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top of the ridge. Into the hills beyound the sun was dipping. To the north lay the summit of Black Top. Nearly home. “I'm afraid we ought to have stuck to the road,” said Sally. The Wreck had insisted on cut ting across the range, when they reached a point opposite the Bar-M coulee. “Miles around the other way,” he said. “And here we are, almost there.” “But it’s pretty steep, Henry.” She looked down the long green slope with a calculating eye. “It’s nothing,” said the Wreck. “Just watch.” The flivver dipped into the grade, slowly at first, then with growing speed. It was traveling like a wild thing. The Wreck had the service brake Jammed down as far as it would go. He hauled back on the emergency brake. The flivver plunged onward, her brake bands screaming and smoking. “Were going to hit something:” cried the Wreck. Sally opened her eyes. “Don’t hit the kitchen!" she cried. ‘Ma s in there! Hit the corral!” He could at least steer, and he did. They hit the corral. A section of fence flew into kindlings and the flivver charged onward. The sorrel horse, directly In its path, lifted his head, snorted, wheeled, lashed out with his heels and missed by inches The fence on the farther side loomed. There was a second crash, a lurch, a splintering of various things. The flivver stopped. Dad Morgan, who was leaning against the fence a few yards distant, removed his pipe from his mouth and examined the situation with interest. “I see you made good time gettln’ back.” he remarked. “Dad!” cried Sally. “Howdy. Sally? Howdy, Wreck?” He strojled near for a better look at the flivver. One of the wheels was crumpled, both mudguards were curled up, the windshield was gone and there was a rivulet of steaming brown water dripping from the radiator. "I reckop,” said Dad, “that her nervous system is kind of shot up.” “Oh, Dad!” Sally leaped clear of the wreckage and had her arms around his neck. “Git the trousseau?” he asked, when she let go of him. “Trousseau!” cried Sally. “Why, I —l’m married!” “Well, I’ll be durned!” “Where’s Ma? I want to tell her.”

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

“Well, I’ll be durned,” repeated Dad. "Your Ma's over to the house, 1 reckon. Where’s Bob?” Sally began to laugh. “I’m not married to Bob. I’m married to Henry Williams!” Dad Morgan's glance wandered to the Wreck, who was still sitting In the flivver, gloomily surveying his work. “Now I will be durned,” he said thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, I reckon I'll be damned.” “You’d better* be nice to him,” warned Sally, in a whisper. “Uo’3 the dearest thing in the world.” She raced away in the direction of the house, where the slight figure of Ma Morgan stood framed in the kitchen doorway.’ Dad wutched her go. Well, women were queer folks. But if Salty said it was all right, that settled ir. Married, eh? The Wreck was his son-in-law! Fair enough, he mused- Sally always insisted the Wreck Wife game. His own course of conduct was clear. “Wreck,” he said, “providin’ it ain’t necessary for you to sit there watchin’ the remains, there’s a bottle up at the house.” “Sure,” said the Wreck .as he climbed down. “Only don’t grin at me. Hear me? Don’t grin! Jt makes me nervous.” THE END. NIGHT CLASSES BEGIN Catholic Community fen tier Commences Courses Thursday. Naturalization classes of the Catholic Community Center, 1004 N. Pennsylvania St., will start at 7:80 p. m. Thursday. Classes are open to all persona regardless of race or creed. \ . Free textbooks in fourteen languages are provided. Leo X. Smith, Daniel T. Doyle and Thomas D. McGee have charge of the English classes. Vincent H. Mercurio will have charge of the Italian classes, which meets at 510 E. Merrill St. During the past year assistance was furnished 860 applicants In ninety-six classes. The time required for sound to pass to the ocean bottom and back can be measured by a newly Invented device. Second Mortgage Loans City Property Only Columbia Securities Cos. Circle 7977. 124 E. Markot

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