Indianapolis Times, Volume 36, Number 287, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 April 1925 — Page 14

14

p<T Wears Jake’s pin when she goes Vjni\jJ\li-i ou t with Barry Dunne.

SYNOPSIS Chlcktc, beloved and only daughter of an old-fashlonPd couple. Jonathan rnd Jennie Bryce, teela a bit lonesome since Mary her chum, has married Edward McPlke, and she refuses Jimmy Blake's marriage proposal only because he is poor. Chiclde attends a party given especially for her by wealthy Jake Munson. Unbeknown to the athers, she and Barry Dunne steal away before the party is over. Later Chickie apologizes to Munson and reveals to him her hope for big returns from her father's oil investment. Munson discoul.iges her. begs her to accept the luxury he can give and to be a guest on a trip he is planning. Though she now loves Barry, she is interested in Munson and calls on sophisticated Janina Knowles her co-worker and friend of Munson, to learn more about him. He sends her a costly pin with a love note. GO ON WITH THE STORY By Elenore Meherin CHAPTER XXV Love's Handicap mT made no difference between them. It seemed only to heighten the half smiling gallantry 'of his manner. Often his eyes dwelt on hers with a sudden look of startled eagerness, like Jimmy’s. Then an amused glint would pass Into them, like a shade pulled down. Yet for a long time Chickie didn’t wear Jake’s sapphires. She kept them in her drawer, hidden. She tried them on at night. One Sunday morning when she and Barry Dunne were going for a walk, she wore a tweed suit with a white waist that had a little frilled collar. And impulsively she took out th< pin and set it at the neck. She was so delighted with the effect, that sh° stuck it in, saying to herself with an impatient trembling: ‘‘Oh, keep still! Why shouldn’t I?” It was morning, a soft wind blowing. Chickie was remembering with a Wistful smile that Sunday so long ago when she and Arthur Sontag had come out here and she had been so tremulous and brave with young emotion. She felt like that now—only then it had been as though gentle, distant hands played lightly over the keys of her heart, raising a faint music, poignant in its sweetness. Now the hands were quick and vital, as though they would sweep into tremendous chords. By a strange coincidence Barry turned to her and, as he often did, pushed a few blown hairs from her forehead. He said, laughingly; “Ah —hasn’t she the pretty eyes?” and noticed the pin: “Hey—what’s this!’’ He fingered It, turned her so that the sun caught In the soft blue fires. “What a beauty. I never saw that before. Had It a long time?” Her throat felt dry and tight—- “ Got it yesterday. Pretty nifty, isn't it? Three seventy-five over the counter of the Novelty Shop.” "That so? Humph—they make those things pretty good, don't they? Its own mother of glass wouldn’t know it in that setting from the real thing.” After a moment he said absently: "You love stunning things, don’t you?” “Who doesn't?” “But yet you say money doesn’t make much difference to you.’’ “That’s never what I said. It would make a heap of difference to me. I only said I wouldn't marry a man just because he was rich and could give me all the things I'd like. I wouldn't marry a man unless I loved him so much that I couldn’t be happy a moment without him.” He nodded, winking: “Wouldn’t be very hard to love a fellow who could toss you a limousine for breakfast, a country estate for lunch and a diamond necklace for dinner, would it?" She sighed, hut all her pulses grew warm and quickened. She said flippantly: "May I take this as a proposal, Red, you wistful thing?" "Vou may not, fair' one. This is a mere question—sounding the depths of the crystal spring, as It were.” “Then I can afford to be truthful. I suppose, though poor, proud goils like me find lies much better economy. Well, I’ll say that one Helena Bryce could much enjoy country estates, limousines and diamonds. As for marriage, however, I'd just as lief dispense with it for four or five years.” "You would? Why?” “Marriage is the beginning of the end. No more adventure, no more ffayety- It always seems to me that a girl just goes down into a tunnel to live out her days in darkness.” "Optimistic, aren’t you? But if he brings enough love with her, : sn't that supposed to light up the ■’un arson?”

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“So they say. But I think the love light only blinds her, so that she doesn’t know she’s going into the dungeon— ’’ He laughed and took the words from her: ‘‘Until she strikes foot against a cold, rough stone and stumbles and the light goes out. Theft she knows what she’s got into! Humph! lots of ways out of that tunnel today. People enter it as they do a gambling place—to win. If they lose, they quit.” "That’s terrible, I think." “Well, gues3 your plan is right. Ir you’ve got to go into a dungeon, be sure you bring the wherewithal to make it darn comfortable. If the light goes out, at least there’ll be cushions and chairs and grub around, and perhaps diamonds to give a sparkle.” • • t rr| ITHIN Iter an excitement yy I that she couldn’t understand J made her answer breathless: “I never said anything of the kind! I never once said I wouldn't marry a poor man." “You did, too! Humph, a girl has a right to expect a few things when she signs up for life. Fellow’d have a nerve to expect her to sacrifice for him." “Then, say when you love, you ache to sacrifice—that you even want to suffer. ’ "Would you, Chickie?” "I don’t know—-I’d be afraid to think much about it.” He had hold of her hand and they faced each other, their eyes mingling in a long, startled glance and she felt going down like -t silver blade into her heart. With a frightened bewilderment she found herself trembling, starting at his eyes, his mouth—waiting breathless and hoping. Shn said, abruptly, with a little nervous laugh: "Well, take a good look, my dear!” ”1 did! A pippin of a look. So it goes.” They started walking down the path. She wanted to run away, to get hold of the thing that quivered and stormed within her. Tears were at her eyes. He went on quietly, swinging her hand. Abruptly, he said: “There’s something cruel in the present economic order, isn’t there?” “A great deal, I’d say—for instance that one so young and beautiful as I should have to work; and one so strong and brave as thou should have to pinch. . . “Yes—well, that’s just It. Five or six years at least before I’ll even begin to make a go of it. There’s my mother, too. No matter what I might wish to do—l have to put it out of my thoughts. That's not right. There ought to be some new arrangement." “Like what? Do you mean that old stuff about dividing the money all over again?” lie shook his head back, laugh'ing, rubbing his hands: "No, ma’am!” “Then what?” “This dungeon question should be rearranged. "Marriage?” "How bright!” "How would you have it?” She asked it softly and stole a hasty flushed look into his eyes. "Well, as it is now—most fellows who make . their own way can't afford to marry until they’re about thirty. A fellf*" - -an’t throw' up his whole future even if he might wish to. But because he can’t marry Is no sign he won't love before that old age descends on him. “Why shouldn’t there he some scheme so that he’d have a right to this love? It’s a part of life. Why should this everlasting postponement of living be demanded of us. A red stain spread slowly upward over her face. But she said valorously: “You mean there should be some substitute for marriage?” He shrugged: “Well—they’ll have that in fifty years at most. Lots of people you and I know today aren't waiting for the conventions to catch up with the little old nature, are they? But what I meant was more some adjustment between economics and emotions. “For instance, some Edison ought to find a way of putting us in a state of suspended animation until our pile is made. Then we would have the capacity and the means to enjoy it at once. As it is now, when we’ve made enough money to be able to live, we’re ready to die.” “Ah—twee-twee —tombstones at our head and feet,” she said blithely [ enough, but feeling suddenly a forlorn, chill desolation. She said sadly: "Don’t the emotions ever wait or last until the economics catch up with them?” “I guess they do--that’s the only hope, Isn’t It ” He laughed merrily and added. “But suppose the economics and the emotions wait, but the girl doesn’t!"

CHAPTER XXVI The Brighter Road HICKIE combed her hair a I long while—dreaming. IV I “Five years at least I'll even begin to make a go of it. There’s my mother, too.” She wondered why she was dwelling on these words of Barry Dunne’s. And she felt as though a luminous searchlight had suddenly been flung across her path. She saw herself going along now with Jake; now with Barry; her days made bright—full of a sparkling Interest because of them. She laughed. But the weight that was loneliness or fear kept pressing like something bleay and heavy on her heart. Five or six years at least—“Pooh—What about it?” Just what she wanted! She should go into the dungeon like Mary did! Any old time! Made it fine. They’d have all these years of freedom—walks on the beach—long rides — dancing— But all the next day she didn’t once look across the alley. She had a forlorn, empty feeling that the window over there was closed, the shade drawn down. On her way home she got off ai Mary’s. She said to herself flip pantly, “Take a look at the dungeon.” She was suddenly consumed with Interest in Mary. Was it so bad? Was Mary glad for all her sacrifices? Or in her secret thoughts was she envious of Chickie and her freedom? Would she he delighted if

someone said: “Well, here’s five or six years—just do as you merrily lease with them. Take a holiday from your life.” Mary began at once to talk of Jake. “Have you come to tell me, Chickie? Jimmy says the machine is always at the door. You know, I always fancied you sweeping grandly along, a bird of paradise in your hair, an ermine train at your feet. What about it?” “Nothing. Why should you wish these things on me, Mary? You didn't wait for them,” “They’d never have come to me. Besides, if you had them you’d send a limo when I wished po go shopping, and a maid to look after my progeny. And I can do without tilings- better than you could.” “That sounds regretful, Mary. Remember when you said Lucy would do the very same things over again?” ”1 say it still, Chickie. Os course, once in a while I’d like to have a purse full of money—l’d like two or three hats I’d love to go to all the good shows, but I wouldn’t give up what I've got if I could stand on top of all the dollars in the world." “It’s worth as much as that—honestly, is it, Mary?" ‘lt's inevitable- —and that's about all there’s to it —at least for me. A girl that’s cold and calculating can arrange her life to suit her mind, hut I had to let mine run along after my heart. It’s the richest way, but the hardest, perhaps.” “Well—suppose Edward couldn't have married you for years and years?” She began to talk rapidly, with a little catch in her voice. "What do you think you would have done, then? Put your heart in cold storage, or take someone else?” • • • M' ARY put down the vegetable knife and wheeled about sacing Chickie, staring at her for a long moment. "Don’t you tell me, Chickie, that after all you’ve shouted from the housetops, you're going to let yourself fall for the hard things like poor Lucy r did! And that poor dub of a Mary! Do you mean to say you'll turn down Jake Munson?” "Don’t he alarmed. Mary; Jake isn’t at my feet. He's not the marrying kind. I was only wondering about it. It seems to me that's about all a girl does, even you. Mary—wondering about love. Awfully Independent, aren’t we? I was thinking about that today." Chickie was hurriedly running to cover—fearful that Mary would see her thoughts. "You know that new girl in the office—that Stella Wilson I told you about? She says nhe wouldn’t give up her job for the best man on earth, and you know she just falls on the neck of any little shrimp that stops to talk to her. Thirty and beautiful and sour —poor ole Stella! And all because no man got the notion to marry her. We don’t amount to much, do we?” “Alone—humph—l guess not. Women are horn for love, Chickie. It's the cord that weaves them Into the chain of life.” Mary laughed. "Mother used to say we re a handful of beautiful heads thrown onto a bare floor. Then a little kid "comes along with a big darning needle and picks the heads onto a bright red string that brings out their colors, gives them meaning. ....picks them out any old way, leaving out some of the prettiest. And all the heads want like everything to lie a part of that chain. Because otherwise what are they? Transparent, meaningless. “I suppose the red string is love, then’ The heads that get left may be the luckiest. They’re free —thoy can roll wherever they choose. “Yes—on a bare floor—remember that!"

The baby began to cry. Mary ran in and took him from his crib. She stood at the door, holding him on her hip as she hade goodby to Ohickie. She said: “You didn’t tell me the truth, rhickle. I'd like to bet that Jake has asked you to marry him and you wanted to find out if money was worth enough, is that It?" "He hasn’t asked me. Mary—and T don t believe he has the remotest Intentions of it.” “Oh, yee -well, his type always does marry. And I wouldn’t put too much stock In that gossip we used to hear. He looks good enough.” Chickle laughed. "Mary, you look just like poor mother, standing there with the baby.” “For pity sakes, don’t wish that on me!” "You love children—you want to suffer—” “Well—yes—little Eddie here has to have a brother and a sister or so, but I hope that Fate will be kind and grant me pause for breath between times.” "Leave it to fate, Mary, old dear, and you know what’ll happen—” • • • I mI HE walked the few blocks I homewanl slowly- Inevitable L—_| —that’s the way Mary explained It. Nothing wildly exultant about Mary. Beads on a red string —why Mary hoped ardently that she might care for Jake. Jake came to see her that night unexpectedly. He laughed when she opened the door. He stepped aside hastily and a sleek Belgian police

Puzzle a Day

Find the number from which you can take away five, multiply your answer by two, find the square root of the product, and subtract eight from the square root. You should have nothing for an answer. What should we start with? Last puzzle answer:

ROSES OPERA SEDAN ERASE SANER

That was easy

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

dog leaped into the narrow hallway, "Like him?” She was speechless—wild-eyed with delight. A week previous, as they drove through the park early one evening, she happened to see a girl walking with one. She said she wished it was hers. She’d feel like a princess out walking witn a noble canine like that. “Feel like a princess? Come here. Wildie, and make a bow to your | mistress.” “Is he mine for keeps? Do you mean to let me have him all the time?” She kneeled on the floor, taking the beautiful, long head in her hands. And suddenly, with a Joyous laugh, she stooped dow’n and kissed * the dog's head. He licked f her face. Jake touched her shoulder, his red lips drawn together. He said quiet, ly, “Chickie—well!" Then he laughed, but he gripped both her hands and stared at her. “Don’t you do that agaift! Don’t do it while I’m around.” She couldn’t sleep that night because of her excitement. She got up several times and went into the kitchen and put her arms around Wiidie's neck and laughed. Sunday Rhe took him for a walk. Barry Dunne went with her. When he saw the dog he said suddenly: "Yours? Jake gave it to you? Say, do you realize that a dog like that might cost as much as an automobile?" She stood stock still and stared. "No?” "They and of them. Humph. What's a thousand to Jake if he wants to lose a little gift to a girl?” “You think I shouldn* take It? Can’t give it back now—l love it—" “Why shouldn’t you give It back? No—well keep it. Nice company for him. Come here, Wildie —take a good look at your dad—new one—” The end of the week Jake said to her suddenly: "Well, it’s all ar ranged, Chickie. We’ll have the finest kind of weather.” "The yachting trip upon Lake Michigan—haven't forgotten, have you? There'll be ten of us—jolliest kind of a crowd.” “Why, I couldn’t go, I can't really.” “Yes, you can! You're the main sail, my dear. There'll be no trip without you. So—you’re coming.” CHAPTER XXVIII THE CHOICE <4l are you going to throw me down like this?" ___"l never took you up, so I don’t see how I am throwing you down.” "You let me think you were com ing.” “No—l didn't You wanted to think that. I'm sorry. I don't see what I can do. It’s just as I wrote you.” She kept her face averted, her cheeks burning. Jake looked at her for a long while In silence. He said quietly: “You've let me In for a ghastly two weeks of It. Chickie. I can't call it off now. I’ve asked everybody—aranged It ail. I've got to go.” Ho slumped down in the automobile, letting his arm rest behind her. They were parked among the trees in the park. "We would have had nights like this. Chickie—night so beautiful you’d begin to hear that grand old wind you're waiting for. .Are you going to let it pass? Going to send me off alone, Chickie?” “Perhaps you think it’s easy for me to refuse pleasures like this, Mr. Munson?” “Jake —if you please—l thank you for putting It in the note. Do you mean you want to go? You’d really like the fun of It?” "Well —you ask yourself that— Jake, theh. I’ve never had a chance like this before. Os course, I wanted to go.” “Then why, Chickie? Why? You want these things. I want to give them to you." "No—l can't. I explained." “Yes—you explained. Jennie, indeed. Do you think I’m a boy, Chickie dear, to swallow your pretty Jenny stuff? I'd like to know what happened to set you thinking. And you come back and throw me down.” She gave no answer. His hand covered hers. “Will you say 'yes’ now and come, Chickie?” She shook her head, watched the still trees. His eyes speculative, in-' tent, dwelt on the chaste sweetness of her profile. “Chickie, I won't see you for two weeks, maybe much longer. You’re sending me away. Kiss me before I go?” She drew a long, hard breath, trembling. (To Be Continued) (Copyright, King Feature Syndicate) Back chapters of “Chickie” can be secured at The Times office free of charge.

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