Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 237, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 February 1926 — Page 8

PAGE 8

SANDY

THE STORY SO FAR Sandy McNeil, after stolen meeting* —'th her sehoolnay sweetheart. Timmy, marries Ben Murillo, a wealthy Italian, who has been forced upon her by her parents. She has a farewell meeting wiin Timmy In the garden of her Santa Barbara home. Her cousin, Judith 'Moore, a San Francisco stenographer, deeply in love with Douglas Keith, a student, is Sandy's maid of hfinor. Found bv Judith in the garden as site leaves Timmy. Sandy tells her cousin that she cannot go with Murillo. GO ON WITH THE STORY , CHAPTER VII | ■\r]OU can’t go!” Judith reI1 I P ea, t- e< l * n awed slowness. L—J She moved nervously to the door. “Shall I lock It—shall I tell them?” Then Sally began to laugh. She laughed and laughed. She leaned on

Today’s Cross-Word Puzzle

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HORIZONTAL 1. Commanding officer on a vessel. 7. Person under surgical care. 14. Or; a ship. 16. One who cures hides. 16. Exclamation used to startle. 17. To pare. 19. Made curved. • 20. Grief (variant). 21. Unoccupied. 22. Reverential fear. 24. Opposite of odd. 25. A point of compass. 26. Portion of the month. 29. 2,000 lbs. 31. Sun god. 32. Image. 33. Stronghold. 34. Mars. ,38. Man serving food. 42. Relieves. 43. Deity. 45. Not securely fastened. 46. One in cards (pi.). 47. Fish. 49. Fastidious. 50. Inlet. 51. Portuguese money. 52. Unit of energy. 54. Loose. Point of compass. 56. Hops kiln. 57. To tip. 59. Dad. 60. ,Opposite of cash payment. 62. A Type of crown. 64. Badge of valor. 66. Musical compositions. 67. Behold. * 65. Hair of a caterpillar. 70. Social Insects. 71. Variant of “a.,” . 72. Sea e^gle. 78. Leaves. 74. Rock containing metal. VERTICAL *l. Hut. 2. -Dwelling. 3. Italian river. 4. Measuring lines. 5. Part of verb to be. 6. Small European fish. 8. Devoured. 9. Light yellow. 10. Aim. 11. Half an em. 18. More recent. 18. Grayish white mineral 18. Sixth note in seals. 19. To exist. 23. You and I. 27. Desserts. 28. Cooking utensil. 29. To pull along.

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the bureau, hiding her face in her hands, cpnvulsed with hysterical mirth. * Judith there holding Sandy’s little ha*:. And presently Sandy looked up with a trembling, halfshamed grin: ’’Frighten you, Judy, ole dear?” She took the hat quietly, very carefully arranged the hair over her forehead. Then she went up and kissed Judith, but didn’t look in Juith’s face. She said softly: “Don’t worry, ole thing. I’m all right now." It semed so gay to toss the beautiful flowers over the old black banister, to come running down’, excited and laughing.

30. Verbal. 34. San Jose’s scale. 35. More lace-like. 36. On the sea. 37. Also. 39. To work. 40. To break away. 41. To retest. 43. Gravel. 44. Composition for two performers 47. Having left a will. 48. Three-pronged spear. / 51. Invaded by, the police. 53. Gleams. 56. Poems suitable for hymns. 58. Afake lace. 61. Printer's measure. 63. To accomplish. 65. To drink dog fashion. 66. Automobile. 68. Correlative of either. 71. Measure of area.

Hoosier Briefs

| , "rT'l TEVK GRIFFIN wrote one I I of the prize essays on how 1- I to make Alexandria a bet* ter town. It reads: “To make a town better, close down the Saturday night dances and let every man stay home with his family and go to Sunday school and church. ‘Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled’.” January's cold weather and slippery streets caused the death of twenty-five horses at Evansville, the city rendering plant reports. Harry N. Stafford, formerly of Miami County has been declared legally dead by Judge Hurst at Peru. He was a son of John W. Swafford, wealthy farmer, who died a year ago, leaving a large estate. He has been missing for several years. •Walter A. Huffman has been elected president of the Elkhart Izaak Walton League. |L.T“IN his second day at school. Isl I Robert Scandrett, 6. of Greenwood, fell from a slide, landing head first. He" was not seriously Injured. • Charles Feagler, switchman at Garertt, was seriously injured when a twelve-pound chunk of coal rolled from a gondola car and struck him on the head.

A NEW STORY OF A MODERN GIRL

She felt tears on her mothr's face and wished t cling to her mother’s warm, plump hands. She wanted to say: “Why. I thought you were glad, Isabella!” ' But the rice find petals came at them in a shower. Murillo caught her arm. She waved a kiss backward. .He was helping her into the car. He stooped down. She felt the heat of his breath and suddenly as he had in the church, ho pressed his lips full on her mouth. “We’re off!” he whispered exultatnly. Sandy gave a little catchy laugh and trembled. • • • risl HE road before them was i | I dark. Low trees thronged toJ gether in forlorn, shadowy concourse. They drove swiftly. And Sandy, sitting low in the deep cushions, held her hands tightly clasped. She felt her eyes burning and wide open, her breath hard to draw. She was married now, Ben Murillo was her husband. She was driving away with him. They would be alone a long while. She said thi3. Her heart began to pound. Married —she was married—going away alone. Thgy sped onward. The trees blacker. They were gaunt and lonely loooking. Sandy stared at them. She wanted to cry out: wanted to tell someone she was frightened. She felt cold and forsaken. It seemed incredible, this quick, wild ride she was taking. She wanted to talk, but her lips were so

Answer to Tuesday’s cross-word putik*:

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES—By Martin

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THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES _

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Sandy and her husband disagree on their honeymoon. He wants her to iiss him. She says no. Sandy posed by Kathryn Ray, Ben Murillo by M. De Jari, both of the Earl Carroll “Vanities.”

stiff. She felt as though she were alone In the car and it were dashing into an unknown sunless region—away from the earth; from laughter and warmth. If sne oniy were back in the garden—hiding In Timmy's arms. Oh, if it only were Timmy she had chosen, she could reach out her hand now and lay: “Gee. Timmy, I’m scared—l feel the queerest—" and he would look down at her in his sweet boy’s way and answer: “Lord, kid, so’m I!” And they would laugh gaily and kiss each other. She shut her eyes. No. she wasn't

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

going to cry. Brazen things out—that was the way. • * mN the darkness she could see Murillo’s hands on the wheel. She could see the white cuffs. They showed inches below his coat sleeves. She stared at them. Tears rushed down her cheeks—oh, at least, he could have kept his cuffs up! __ She felt terribly wronged by the sight of those cuffs. She said with a gulp, ”iyhy are you driving so quickly?”

by Elenore AUTHOR OF

He turned. She could see his eyes, dark, possessive. He laughed, a soft, questioning laugh, “Why am I hurrying. Sandy? Ten minutes more, darling!" "* “Ten minutes? Aren’t we driving to Riverside 2 That's where you said.” <■ “Yes. but not tonight. Did you think we'd drive five or six hours on this night?” She couldn’t speak. A dry. searing flush that seemed to pulse from her heart outward, went over her

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—Bj BLOSSEK

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whole body—made her weak. They drove deeper Into the foothills. They were in a drove of oak trees. Before them, set on a little eminence, was a long, rambling structure built around a garden. In the driveway were palms aftd a fountain that looked very chilly in the moonlight. Murillo said: “Here, Sandy; you’ve never been here. It’s quite the place.” She looked very slim and tall in that dove colored outfit, with the soft fur against her bright hair. And he smiled like a courtier as he helped her out. But her feet were leaden. She watched him sign the register —“B. Murillo and wife.” She felt like shrieking with laughter—like running away. But she followed him to a broad staircase. They were shown to a big, colory room furnished In wicker. Flowers were everywhere. • • * SHERE was a basket of roses—tall—a mass of white. Long buds with white, gleaming petals. There must have been a hundred of those pearl-like buds. Sandy touched them. She said: "Aren’t they lovely?” It was an effort for her to say a simple thing like this. Murillo laughed f.oftly. “ You like them. I had them put here for my wife.” He kept smiling. He was coming toward her, his arms extended, his languid eyes half closed. Sandy pressed her nose against the buds. She watched him, fascinated. The walls of the room seemed merging together, closing In on her and this stranger, who was so slight and narrow, and who now came toward her with dreaming eyes and parted lips. His hands touched hers. “Sandy, come here! Take off your hat. Sandy —you haven’t kissed me yet—now—” She gave him a little shove. She began to laugh hysterically. "Don’t be so silly, Benny—Benny Venuto! Open your eyes! What do you think you are—a sleep walker?” He steadied himself on the arm of a chair—a sudden Dashing of white drained the the color even from his lips.

OTTR BOARDTNG HOUSE~Bv AHETtN

FEB. 3, 1926

But Sandy werit on In a high, strained voice: “What has my hat got to do with kissing? I’ll keep on my hat as long as I like! Did. you send all these flowers? Itiat r very nice In you. But where’s thv suite? I told you to get a suit* for us—” He surveyed her In silence—noticed her hands—that she had them clinched hard, but they were shaking. Slowly a flicker of amusement came to his eyes. He took' out a cigarette: “Do you mind if I smoke, Sandy?” • • * S r— “1 HE walked abod! the room touching the flowers - straightening the cushion on a chair. In one corner next to long French doors was a writing desk. She said as breezily as she could, "Smoke—of course. I suppose you don’t mind either if I write a few letters?” “I guess your letters can wait till the morning, can’t they?” He sauntered after her. “It’s past midnight.” But* she was already seated, the pen poised at her lips. He leaned over her, pressed his hands on hers. "Let the letters wait. Sandy." The dark brows, so curved and so long, the moist Ups came very near to her face. i’Sandy, the* letters can wait!” She felt limp and overpowered. But she said bluffly: “I promised my mother to write at once! I'm an awfully prompt correspondent. One thing I never delay Is writing a lotterl” . She could scarcely breathe. Her lips were drawn and white. Murillo said: “Do you want a drink, Sandy? I’ve brought some fine old stuff—" “No,” she said faintly. "I don’t want a thing—nothing.” “This won't hurt you.” He went over to the closet, began opening his suitcase. Sandy looked at the French doors. She felt 111 —a little mad. She thought wildly: ’tLord I can’t get away—l can’t—” She got up suddenly and gave the door a Bush. It opened on a balcony. She sfepped out. The next moment she was running down a shallow terrace. The night air blew gently in her face. (To Be Continued)