Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 242, Indianapolis, Marion County, 9 February 1926 — Page 8

PAGE 8

SANDY

THE STORY SO FAR Sandy MoNell weds Ban Murillo, a foreimer with lariro wealth, to please her parent*. She leave* the altar for a farewell meeting with Timmy, an old sweetheart, in the garden of her home in Santa Barbara. She tells Judith Moore, a San Francisco cousin, who find* her there, that she cannot go with Murillo. But she does go on the honeymoon. At Tahoe she meeis two Santa Barbara boy friends, who Invite the couple to a dinner dance. Murillo locks her in their room. Angered by this and other Indignities. Sandy flees to her

Today’s Cross-Word Puzzle

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HORIZONTAL 1. Long-pointed weapon. 6. Strip of wood fastened to the shoe used ns a snow glide. 9. To Implore. 14. To follow tracks of others. 15. Metal. I#. Passages In a theater. 37. Corrodes. 18. Collection of facts. 39. Amber, copal, etc. 20. Small European flsh. 21. Native faculties. 24. Social Insects. 25. Nuisance. ?T. To become exhausted. 28. Organs of sight. —■ 29. Rodent. 31. Sweet potato. 33. Pulpit block. 36. To cut off from entrance. 40. Perusing. 41. The safe keeping of goods In a warehouse. 42. Insulates. • 44. Valued. 46. To soak flax. 47. Bnake-llke flsh. 48. Paper sacks. 51. To permit. 64. To let fall. 68. Possessive pronoun. 69. Cooked by direct exposure to the flames. 63. Reverential fear. 62. Angry. 64. Married. 65. To suppose. 67. Net trimmings. 68. Evening. 69. Saner. 70. Fine Icy driving particles. 71. L*lr. 72. Requires.

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AFTER TEN YEARS OF STOMACH AGONY HE FINDS RELIEF AND HAPPINESS

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home, and Murillo In a rage, plans lo tuke forceful possession of her. GO ON WITH THF STORY CHAPTER 13 mHET were speechless. Sandy reached for the old percolator, poured herself some coffee. They waited for her to speak, staring fixedly. They bad a stiff, vacant air as though their minds had suddenly lost the power to func-

VERTICAL 1. Narrow and relatively long piece. 2. An over-particular person. 8. Relieves. 4. To perform. 5. To sleep. 8. Trite. 7. Os, pertaining to or due to, motion. 8. SiUy. 9. flakes a golf hole at estimated perfect score. 10. Falsehood. 11. Theme. 12. To put In a row. 13. Small depressions. 22. Fit. 23. To attempt. 26. Dealers. 28. Green Jewel. 30. To get out of bed. 32. To love exceedingly. 33. Work of genius. 84. Field. 35. To knock lightly. 37. Baseball wooden club. 38. Tears of life. 39. Scarlet. • 43. To ease.-,. 46. Sailor. 47. Female sheep. 48. Cooks until bubbles of vapor form. 49. Pertaining to the ear. 50. Charm aa of movement. 52. Mooed. 63. Ancient. 65. To lift up. 56. Possessed. 57. Gazes. 59. Most beneficent. 60. Softest and finest feathers. 63. Tiny golf mound. 65. Poetry.,

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A NEW STORY OF A MODERN GIRL

I tlon. The mother said blankly: ! “What madness is this, Sandy?” “It’s not madness. It’s happened, i 1 couldn’t help it. I’ve left Ben. ! That’s all there Is to It, except that i we've parted for good—lt's all over—” “Parted for good? Nonsense — what nonsense! Did you quarrel, Sandy? Tell your mother. Did you. quarrel and run away?” Sandy answered quietly, but keeping her eyes down: ’’l've told you. That's all there is to tell. It's just ended." Mrs. McNeill seemed able only to run the palm of her hand back and forth across the table. She started several times to speak, but the soft, double chin moved uncontrollably. Finally she raised her face, the shallow eyes swimming with tears: ("What Is the meaning of this, Sandy? You know you can't put aside your marriage. For what trifling? matter have you quarreled? Is this the womanly thing to do? Is this any way for a daughter of mine to act?" • * • mHE white lines deepened from Sandy's nose to her lips. She looked transparent. She felt that her heart was breaking—it was sick and breaking. "It wasn’t a trifle. It was everything. I’m not going to talk about It. It’s done now. You can’t undo It. Nobody can!” “Tour husband permitted you to return home like this—alone? He sent back to your parents, Sandy?' \

Answer to Monday’s crossword puzzle:

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES—By Martin

f ,?U?PY-A W°WoArt WHEftH BOOTS OEM\

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THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

i "Oh, no! There was nothing else jto do, of course. There was n- ■ place | rise for me to go. We never should I have married. He sees this as plainly as I do.” She broke off abruptly,, seeing Alice push the table and an aghast fright leaping in her mother’s eyes. They were staring at the open door. Murillo and Angus McNeil were there. They had come noiselessly. Murillo’s clothes were covered with I dust, his eyes bloodshot. But Angus i had a shrewd, bluff air—his face a j little grim, but twinkling. “So he knew you were leaving. | did he? He gave you the fifty dollars to get yourself here? Come, now, Sandy, you’ve had your fun. I guess you're glad enough to see your husband again.” The blood pelted to Sandy's face. 'She turned on Mvrillo, her eyes burning with hatred She said softly: “You got my note? I meant what I wrote then. I mean it doubly now!" • • • M 1 URILLO was exhausted with his long, frantic ride. But he had mastered himself. He had formed his plan with a scheming coldness. Sandy was his wifebeautiful. admired, young—the type of woman he desired. He exulted In the comments Ker loveliness evoked. He loved that pale, vivid face of hers; loved those soft, appealing hands. She was his, and he meant to have her. She would be his wife again if only long enough to be punished; to be subdued; to be hurt for the violence she had done his pride, the outrage of his velvety self-esteem. He would have her again—bend her in two; break her to his will. He was suave now as in the days of their engagement. He glanced gently toward Sandy as she stood there, her stricken face blazing with hatred. He shrugged. "Don't be hard oh her." he said wearily. “She's excited. She can't be very well. We had two very happy months. Every thing was beautiful. I did everything to please her. I took hei everywhere. We never quarreled, j ButXwithout saying a single word, she stole from the hotel In the middle of the night.

OUT OUii WAY—By WILULAMS

- —— %• " „ - . 1 . VjcBSRUs yagjlf ■ |

Sandy tells Murillo she 11 never go back to him. Sandy posed by Kathryn Ray, Murillo by M. De Jari, both of the Earl Carroll Vanities.

“I don’t know why. I can’t think of the slightest cause. I’m not to blame. I don't know what it all means." He looked with quiet appeal to the mother and father: “I don’t understand. Os course she'll get over It. She left a note. She says she wants the marriage ended.” • • • —~~l ANDY leaned on her hands. such a drawn, pinched 16ok L__J about her young mouth that her mother Instinctively whispered: “Don't., dear! Calm yourself—sit down!" "I am calm' I know just what I’m doing—just what I mean to do! I'm

by Elenore Meherln, AUTHOR OF “CHICKIE”

not excited or crazy or ill! I’ve Just finished with mai-riage, that's all!” She flung her head back, confronting her father’s eyes. They were black now. She said hysterically: "That’s what I said—l’m finished with marriage. Oh, ho—you can’t glare me down —no one can." She backed to the door, her hands clasped against her chin.” “Come back here,” Angus roared. "You think you’ll do as you please and we'll all pay the piper? What do you propose, I wonder.” “You don't need to pay,” saio Sandy. “I’ve paid! You made me marry him!” "Made you! You ought to get down

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FRECKLES AND BIS FRIENDS—Bj BIOSSEK

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op your knees and thank any man who married you after the mess you made of things!" Her hands flew out In a little gesture of appeal. The mother was urging softly, “Hush. .Angus, hush —the poor child —” But Sandy began to laugh, high, sobbing laughter: "I ought to be glad—ho—that’s what my husband told me—l should be' glad. But I’m not glad You can’t frighten me with that talk —oh, no, you can’t I know what I am! I don’t need to thank men for marrying me—l don’t NEED to!" She glanced at Murillo, who was now biting his pale lips. She pushed off her mother's, restraining han't! and went running from the room. 4 • * mSABEL knocked nt Sandy’s door: “It’s your mother. Let me In, dear.” And she spoke winnlngly. It was nohtlng—just a little hysteria. Sandy would feel better now that she was home again. They wouldn’t try to force her. But she must remember that marriage was a sacred thing. “You stood before the alter of God, dear. You mustn’t talk of breaking your vows." Sandy said, despairingly: “Don't blame God for it, mother. That’s such an easy out! God had nothing to do with it! Oh, If I’d only known!” “You’re not a child, Sandy. You won t want to hurt your whole family. You must meet life bravely. I had to. You have a good husband. Few r men would race after a woman who treated them as you treated him. He is downstairs now. He will take you to his sister’s house. She’s away. You are to stay there till your own home Is ready.” Sandy fastened her hands in the rungs at the foot of the bed. She said wildly: “No! I’m NOT going with him. Don’t try to make me. I won’t! I won’t!” • • • SHUT left her alone. The afternoon sun bathed the house—fragrance of honeysuckle and sweet peas drifted through the windows. It was home —just as It had been a few months ago, yet v.dth this funeral hush about it Sandy felt as though she were abandoned in some

OUR BOARDING HOUSE-By AHERN

FEB. 9. 1926

forgotten cloister. She heard moving about In a stealthy way— * pn tiptoe as though someone had died. Her married sisters came. They were in the dining-room. A loud tone, a shocked exclamation, R cup flounced down on the saucer—they W'ere talking about this new disgrace she had brought on them, Sandy walked to the window. Her mind was ou fire. She didn't deserve this! She'd not stand it! Have her life ended at 19? She would NOT! Strike out —be free again— Alice pushed her way Into the room, gave, a significant twist to her shoulder. Alice, too, had been a beauty at 19. But she wa* 80 now—unclaimed. Her married ala ters acted as though this made Alice a person to be snubbed. Bbe detested them. “The old hens are at it,” she said maliciously. She looked a Mttle like Sandy, her chin was somewhat square, her nose a little pinched at the nostrils; the auburn hair streaked. She was now eaten with curiosity. “Give- us the lowdown. kkl. What did he do to you?” “Nothing—just what I told you. I don’t love him —” Alice made a chutting sound with her tongue against the roof of her mouth—a sound of supreme, impatient disdain: "I know you’re not such a fool os that I” “That’s all!” “Keep It to yourself, then! People like you that are eo almighty perfect In their own oplnlona!” A She was about to flounce frorrS the room. Sandy called her back: “AJly—-do mo a favor? Mall thlz? Tonight—be SURE!” It was a letter to Judith. It would take care of Handy** future. Judith wouldn't fail her! Late that evening Sandy was going through the hall. She saw suitcases—three of them. They had Murillo’s initials. She went to her mother: “Are thoee my clothes Did he bring them to me?” “They are your clothes and your husband’s." “What do you mean?” “Just w hat I said. You refuse to go to him. Ho is coming here to you." (To Be Continued)