Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 30, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 June 1925 — Page 12

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Chiokle (Helena), only daughter o£ Jonathan and Jennie Bryce, loves Barry IHuuie, a young lawyer with Tufts & Lennox. Wealthy Jack Munson, friend of Janina Knowles and Amy Heaton tell Chickie he considers Barry’s feeling only a boy's love and that ho will be waiting when Barry has jilted her. Ila Moore’s father expects to engage Barry to represent locally the Gulf Steamship Company of San Francisco, and Ila invites him to tour the world, with her party. When Chickie recuses him of loving Ila. a quarrel follows and he leaves on the. trip. In desperation she telegraphs him when she realizes she must endure the consequences of her love. Her parents, Ignorant of her plight, favor Jake as a suitor for Chickie. In Barry’s absence Jimmie Blake renews his attentions. Wnen Barry tells Chickie he has been married to Ila for two weeks. Chickie takes the name of Mrs. John Clayton, buys herself a wedding ring and goes to the country home of a widow, Mrs. Agnes Robbins, for a vacation. She writes that anew position will keep her away from home for a long time. Dorothy Wrenden, a hotel clerk at Lancaster, agrees to forward Chlckie’s mail under her assumed name. Chickie becomes the mother of a tiny girl. She receives a message that her mother Is dying and answers, “Coming." GO ON WITH THE STORY By Ellnore Meherin CHAPTER CII. The Fight r—yHE looked into the bahy’s S basket. It was the one dts- ___ tinct, quiet thing in a room grooving dim, swaying as with fogs. They rose In a heaving sea; they stole the breath from her. Hurry I In God’s name, hurry! But she didn’t think; she sawpictures flying through her mind. Jonathan shouting at the open ■window, and she, running and running. The window banged down and that awful shadow leaped against it. Jennie crying: “Chickie —oh, come!” But her hand touched the baby’s fingers—oh, such delicate, pointed things, and the nails were a work of art. It didn’t stir—little, unprotected creature. Suddenly Chickie saw Brtle Groom and the welt on the frightened, soft cheek. She shivered. No—oh no—a tiny thing to suffer so— She leaned down, whispering to it and to herself. “I won’t. No —I couldn't! I never could!” Her tears fell on baby’s blanket —she kept wiping them and trembling. She raised the baby. Ho! Jennie would be glad. Jennie was so warm; such a plump, kindly breast —lay the baby there —put it in her mother’s arms! Suddenly she saw Jennie’s elbow cradlb.g the child; heard Jennie’s high fait >tto crooning to it, A great softness like musk played In' her thoughts. Do go—take the baby with her —give It to them. She wiped the heat from her neck, but the throbbing at her throat quickened—it beat wildly. She began pulling things from drawei s, shoving them In her trunk--letters, clothes, books. She snappy 1 down the cover and locked it. She sa'J quietly, “Get there tonight.” Emily Faris came Into the room with the chicken. Even In the hallway she began to talk: “Now you’ll feel strong as a lion after this —melt in your mouth. When I was down with Clemency—she’s my fourth’'-* Chickie said: “Did Billie come back with the car?” “Land sakes, no! He’s gone on to see Ryerson about the bean money. He won’t be along till late.” Chickie said to her thought: “I’ll have to walk —not far.” She could scarcely breathe. She made a hasty shift in her plans. Now she would have to send Mrs. Faris away —the woman wouldn’t let her walk to the train. She said to her: “Didn’t you say you needed some clothes?” “Oh. there’s no great hurry, Mrs. Clayton. I can go over tomorrow and get them. Out here :n the wilderness we don’t fuss like city folks do. Os course’'— “T ut you might as well go now. I fool fine, and there's a little sun today. Go while it’s fair. “Well, if you don’t mind—it won’t take me long. Do you think you’ll be all right for an hour?" “Why, yes—l’m perfectly fine today, Take your time. You needn’t come till six.” From the window Chickie saw the ■tout short figure and the wind ballooning the wide skirts. Mrs. Faris seemed to be driven along, the wind was so stiff. • • • | HICKIE was alone. For a | I moment she was unable to ' move because of the excitement, of the hush and the fears. She wrote a note: “Dear Agnes Robbins: “My mother is dying. I Just got word from my father of a horrible automobile accident. She isn’t expected to live through the night. They were on their way here from the East to surprise me. I must go. I can’t wait here. Forgive me for thin haste, but you can under stand. “I intended asking Billie to drive me to the train, but he’s away. I was afraid Mrs, would, try to CORNS Lift Off-No Pain! Doesn’t hurt one bit! Drop a little “Freezone” on an aching corn, Instantly that com stops hurting, then shortly you lift it right off with fingers. Your druggist sells a tiny bottle of “Freezone” for a few cents, sufficient to remove every hard corn, soft com, or corn between the toes, i and the <bot calluses, without sore- * ness or irritation —Advertisement. _____

stop me from walking, so I sent her home. Dear Agnes Robbins, you’ve been an angel to me, and 1 shall never forget all your kindness. Don’t be angry with me now. What else can I do. I’m enclosing the money I owe you, also enough to cover the charges for telegrams I’ve sent. I’ll have a man call for my truni. I’m only taking a very few of the baby’s things with me. A thousand thanks to you, dear Agnes. ’’MERLE CLAYTON.” She pinned this envelope on the basket where the baby lay. She dressed—mumbling to herself, dropping her skirt, half sobbing all the time: “Hurry—oh, God—hurry” She kept seeing Jennie —panting— calling—and Jonathan limbering to the door, straining his eyes up and down the block —oh, wondering why she wouldn't come She took a blanket and wrapped the baby in it; laid It on her bed, staring mutely at Its quiet face, touching its hair. She fancied that It smiled at her. Then she raised It swiftly, its cheek against her neck, half hidden in the straggly fur of her coat. She crept down the stairs, then through the empty kitchen. And, lowering her head as one breasting a storm, she passed through the oaks to the river road. Going to them—taking the baby with -her. The wind drove; the leaves circled. And she hurried. A mile and a half to the train. The train due in an hour. Oh, she could walk that easily. In four hours she would kneel at Jennie’s bed. Jennie's sweet hand running over her hair again; Jennie’s dear, faded eyes brimming. Oh —her mother would know —know her the very moment. She went hurling along, her lips moving in fever—a frantic thing. • • • mT took so long to ge: from tree to tree. They seemed to move away. The wind tore at her hat. Hurry—quicker. But her feet were leaden —she drew short, hard breaths. And she sank down a moment, resting. She drew her coat tighter —oh, it was cold. She held thp baby close. \ As she did this there was a twisting in her mind—a chill voice that said: "Taking it to Jennie—lay It in Jennie’s arms!” She got to her feet —shaking. Every pulse was shaking with a stark -vision of herself, ringing the bell of the yellow cottage, smiling at Jonathan, walking into the halL And a baby In her arms! She sat down again on a mound of earth. She opened the collar of her coai—hot now. The wintry sun was hot—or her blood was fire. Insane—was she Insane? Imagine little Jennie and the horror In their hearts seeing their Chickie—and all this—and the hiding and the lies—and neighbors peeking tehlnd the shades—oh— She sat motionless and numb. The baby lying on her knees. She put her hand on its face. Its Ups were blue, chilly. Poor little thing—so quiet. Keep It warm. She opened her coat and laid Its face against her breast —a fainting weakness In her thoughts. She said: ”1 can’t do that—or kill them " Stealing away from them to keep it all so hushed—never letting Jonathan know—never. And now to rush back blindly, shout it to the world And idea flashed upon her. She wondered wiiy she hadn’t thought of this before. She* would go to Dorothy 'Wreden, Dorothy would tell her of some kind, efficient nurse, And she would pay her well to keep the baby, oh, Just for a little while—Just till she could think— Just till she could know the thing to do Yes, do that- then rush away, then rush to them. Make them smile. Oh, never crush their hearts. Her anguish this—bear it by herself—brave It alone She felt stronger. She began to hurry. She drew her coat, because the baby's face was cold, she ran. A faint shiver stirred the tiny form. She looked at It—lts lips twitched — a little, flickering movement. It Btartled her. And she stooped down with her cheek against Its mouth, Waiting for the warmth of Its breath. But the wind blew —ruffian gusts. She felt no warmth —no breath. She touohed the baby’s eyes—she rubbed the baby’s hands —she shook It—oh Its mouth ourving—parting. Then a stillness—stiller than before— Chickie stared at Its shut eyes— Its open mouth. A mortal fright crossed Into her heart —made It heavy like a stone. She laid the baby on the ground, knelt beside It, listened for Its breath. She raised It and whispered to It, She said wildly, “It’s all right—-weak—lt’s Just the same!” And she began to run with it. She kept running—afraid to look—afraid to stop. But she felt under the blanket for Its hands and they too were cold. Sho cried: “Oh—no—no—” And looked at it —and It was sti ll —utterly still— CHAPTER CnL Released | HICKIE closed her eyes, the I ( I little cold face pressed against her own. The wind swept them—it went Into her soul and laid It desolate. There was no sun—no light—no pallid hills upreachlng to the sky. Nothing but wind and death and this too-awful pain. She wound her arms about the tiny form. She said, Imploring: “It’s just the same—just the same— ’’ But, praying this, her thought shook with fear. • She listened for Its heart, fancied she heard a wavering pulse. She took a breath, warming It and blew this in the bahy’s mouth. She could be sure, then, that its eyelids quivered. But they did—did they? Oh, answer that, someone. And she put the phill face back against her own, on and on, s dying herself against the trees, stumbling, getting up. Hurry—keep It warm —keep the breath there. For she was afraid of th© little shut eyes—afraid of the coldness that stole through her veins. t She wasn’t going to T^n^ gp tl r now. nor to Jennie—not vet

She starts the trip home to see

was going to the town —get on the train—take it to the doctor —oh, make him smile and say, "It’s all right—weak, of course —” A far distant whistle. That was the train coming. Its whistle drew her up rigid and sharp; it shivered along her nerves; it made a thundering in her mind. Suddenly she began to cry. Suddenly she said, “Oh, it’s dead!” Holding it so close, she felt her feet sinking—a gentle sinking—going down and down, the trees wavering. slipping away; a darkness closing. No wind now, and no chill, nor any thought at all. A moment’s void, like an eterni .y. Then a warmth In her face; a cb.lding, triumphant whine. Wlldie was at her side licking her eyes. She caught hia neck: “Oh, dog—how did you come?” She pulled herself upward. She said: “Hurry, Wildie! Run!” And held to his neck—tumbling along like that. The train whistled closfr. Just around the turn. It was there—almost there. The dog cast a puzzled, searching glance to her face; he sniffed at the bundle In her arms; but he trotted close At her side, letting her hand pull roughly at his scruff. Oh—she bleased him —thanks for the dog—

Puzzle a Day

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Surrounding the center ball above are eight more. The problem Is to join the balls together with the fewest possible straight connecting lines. Last puzzle answer: I am a “rat” reversed I am “tar” transposed "art.”

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THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

Now the engine’s great black nose swept into view. She raised her purse, flagged the train. Someone lifted her on—some one helped to a seat, saying kindly: “Sick, ma'am? Baby sick?’’ She nodded. She raised the blanket gently, shielding the tiny, moveless face. On the train now—rushing. But Jennie, too, would be gone. Chickie thought with a broken despair: “She won’t live, either —I can’t get there now—” She fancied Jonathan, his head bowed in his arms— But she didn’t cry. She only can her fingers along the baby's neck. A faint moisture trickled from it| Ups. It brought a courage to her thoughts. Oh —she was a wild thing to suppose It dead—only sleeping—a stupor, perhaps, but alive. So she brought it to the doctor. Seeing her, sharp admonition sprang to his lips: “Out! What do you mean, Mrs. Clayton?” “The baby—look—” She opened the blanket. He glanced at the child soberly, took it and laid It on the table. He asked simply: “When did It die?” “Ho—dead! Ho—it's not dead?” “Yes.” (To Be Continued) fCopyright. King Feature Syndicate)

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