Indianapolis Times, Volume 37, Number 284, Indianapolis, Marion County, 30 March 1926 — Page 10

PAGE 10

Sa fkgfffW'BF b y elenore meherin, AilU I Author of “CHICKIE”

THE STORY SO EAR SANDY McNEIIj. in lovo with life, marries BEN MURILLO. a rich Italian, to please her impoverished family. Tyranny by Murillo and Irequent quarrels follow, A son dies at birth. Bob McNeil her uncle, aids in plans for .Sandy and her mother to lake a trip to Honolulu. There she meets RAMON WORTH, who saves her life, in the surf. On the same steamer home he declares his love. Murillo says ho will never release her. JUDITH MOORE, a cousin, telis Sandy love ;s everything. Murillo overtakes hr r as she foes for a tryst with Ramon, lie appears, unexpectedly, at a party she is fivmir lor her friends. After the -part/ he strikes her. She leaves his House and accepts the kinaiy attritions'-' of Ramon, whose home ehe shares. She receives a tdesraui from ltamon. M> ON WITH THE STORY FROM HERE CHAPTER LVII Sandy took the telegram to the table she had set so prettily near the fireplace. The poppies were closed in long, golden buds. She read: “Can’t get away. Greatly disappointed. Letter explains. Sending packages parcel post.” She swallowed, took a long, rasping breath with the shaky feeling of one who has passed some desperate crisis. She sat at the table, her heart going quickly and began to eat. She thought: “This is good. I needed this. Now, I'll begin to work, i’ll work hard.” And she went about with a cold r>recision, refusing to notice the quiet; ignoring the tightness and heat at her throat. For three days she worked relentlessly, taking a pleasure in punishing herself.

Then Ramon’s letter came. An unexpected reorganization of the firm where he was working called for an examination of the books. He would be kept at it a week or ten days. He was distracted because she might get too lonely. He was sending books and new records for the phonograph and he’d ordered provisions to be sent twice a week. “There’s another bundle, darling girl, that I hope meets with your approval. They have shoppers in the. stores here and she picked out these togs, for, of course, not being in the Garden of Eden, you’ve got to have food and raiment. I hope the shoes are right. I noticed the ones you were wearing were very thin and high heeled. But I made a pattern from them and pray the size fits.. I’m working day and night in the hope of seeing yon next* Saturday. Will you look forward to this one-tenth as eagerly as 1 do? I love you more than ever — I think of you, I long for you. I’m tortured with the ache of your lone--1 ness, you dear, brave darling. You are that —I love you. You need me a little —how glad I am to serve you.” In the "box was a golf skirt with silk blouses, neckties and expensive sport-hose. There was a long, stunning knitted coat and a trig, closefitting felt hat. Sandy shook them out, examining them minutely.. Her hands were cold and trembled violently. She said quietly: “I have to have them. I can’t go about nuked! I can pay for them when I get a job.” She felt grateful to Ramon and suddenly she began to cry. But she ■wouldn’t pity herself. She said in a business-like way: “I’ll jtave to borrow to get started. I cm borrow from Ramon. I can pay it back.” And she hammered at the typewriter. Every night she washed out her underwear, set it before the fire to dry. Sometimes she put it on damp, thinking somberly: “It doesn’t matter nothing matters.” These despondent moods came only when she was excessisvly tired —when she had punished herself with long, relentless hours practicing shorthand or typing. Usually, there ran through all her thoughts a young, robust confidence. Things would turn out! Hit the ceiling again! Oh, wait a few months and

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Murillo would grow weary, finding their bond only a burden. He would agree—even demand a separation. Then she could dash about on all the wild adventures ha wished. No one would have the right to He would even find some to justify him. She would he released; all the sweet, breezy gaiety of here girlhood returned. Well—of course, this would happen! Twenty-one and all of blitheness and youth before her— Toward the end of the second week the hope for this solution received a final blow. It came in the usual acrimonious letter from Alice. Your husband called today and went up to mamma’s room. 1 followed. I sat myself there. He tried to stare me out of countenance and, failing, said: "Mother McNeil”—in that of his—“l’d like to talk with you alone. May I?” Ma gives me the dignified nod to bow myself out. It made me pretty furious, so I told him: “Mother’s not well. Kindly don’t excite her!” Ma was horrified and came back with: “Alice, I'm surprised!” and to him: “The poor girl’s tired. Don’t be offended, Ben, dear.” They spoke in whispers. The doors were closed. So, sharpens my ears are, I heard almost nil.

When he came out I said cordially: “Has your wife fuiiy recovered from the smash-up?” For a minute it appeared like my turn for a. crack in the jaw had arrived. He came right up to me with a crouching, animal look. He snarled in my teeth: “My sister is entirely recovered, thank you!” I found ma in tears. She says, “Alice, where is Sandy? She’s not with Judith. Ben has learned this. Now I want you to tell me the truth.” I got huffy and said I’d not be drawn into the Murillo mess. Plentious weeps from ma. “Ben thinks Sandy has left him for good, Alice. He thinks she means to get a divorce.” Why shouldn’t she. You saw that picture. You know what it means.” “Alice! A single girl to entertain such ideas! It Avas Ben’s sister. I’m ashamed of you. Now I want you to write to Sandy end tell her that her husband will fight any effort on her part to put aside her vows. Divorce will not permit him to remarry. He is not going to release Sandy. Tell her that her mother and father, deeply as they are grieved, cannot countenance her defiance. They wiil be forced to take sides against her.” This got my goat. I said: “Who’d want her to come back and he’s chasing all over the country with another woman?” Ma’s lips tight: “That’s not the truth. And if it were your sister drove him to it!”

As Sandy read£this she saw the curls falling on her mother's plump, warm neck. How often she had loved teasing and kissing Isabel. But Isabel turning against her! Sitting with compressed lips—stern and cold in judgment. “I don't care!” she said quickly, Tinging her head back. But she did care. She let the dog strain at the leash, let him race her along, the wind and salt in her mouth, the hair Tying about her face. “It’s the spray!” she told herself angrily when her eyes wore wet and stinging. She tugged at the dog pulling him to her side with a resentful “Quit yanking! Can’t you I walk along like a decent dog?” He I sniffed at her feet, looked up in- * quiringly and began glibly and generously licking her hand. Tears rushed down her cheeks. She came to the dunes —white, rippling hills hidden by the murmuring trees. Quiet here—so quiet

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OUT OrR WAY—Bv WILLIAMS

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that one’s step sank noiseless, leaving no footprint. She let her feet go down ankle-deep, imagined herself disappearing in the gleaming, quiet sands. Isabel would cast her off —• would take Murillo’s part, thinking it right that Sandy's life should be ironed-out, blanched and joyless. "Ironed out. that's your fate,” jtr voice whispered. "Lucky to stay on here, a -lonely prisoner all the days of your life. Bound to him. You had your chance. You think you’ll get another? That a great, beautiful love is waiting for you? It’s not! Your finished!” She considered this, blazing and mutinous. Her mother’s words as saulted her. They would take Murrillo's part—stand against her. * * • She could no longer work, so furious was her resentment. She now went about with a feeling of beat ing against closing walls—She was in a pit—the cliffs drawing together, meeting over her head. When she looked at the ocean she whispered: "I can’t get away. I’ll never he free.” And she sat hours watching the waves billowing so far out there, coming in immense, rolling contours to the shore—water, unlimited, except for the jutting of Point Lohos, and there, at Pebble Beach, like an etching, a tree, in wistful grace against the turquoise sky. She fancied herself lost on a raft on the measureless sea. No one w'ould- care. Her mother’s repudiation was crushing and incredible 1 - It n’l t’- cV\ ■’ • ’!-. \

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

She would never go hack. No— I stay here—what did they care—throw her to Murillo. She caught the dog's neck, whispering, ”God, it’s lonely here!” When she returned to the house and found provisiorv? waiting she thought of Ramon with a storm of gratitude. The only friend in the' wide world! She had a wish to dash away, lose her self In crowds, flirt, dance, drink, go roaring wild. Why not? She came to dread the darkness — the long quiet evenings with the room throwing echoes at her —with the silence whispering, "You’ll never get free! Swallow it!” The tapping of the tree at the window set her walking nervously. She said words out loud In the sheer longing to hear a voice. When another week passed and then another, with Ramon writing, “It will t>e five days more at least before I can leave here,” she grew frantic because of the quiet and the waves dashing so relentlessly against the rocks—the boom and the roar and the vast, ceasless monotony. Then the weather changed. For days the sky was overcast, the waters gray. A wind howled through the trees. Sandy lay awake at night, listening to that tree tapping and tapping; to the wind hurling pebbles against the door. All night the wind wondered about the houso. The dog took to running with his nose along the ground. She put her hands over her eyes and cried softly. "I’ll leave in ~o T ——

SALESMAN SAM—By SWAN

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES—By MARTIN

FRECKLES AND lIIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

another night.” The dog crouched at the door, giving unearthly, protesting moans when the windows rattled. "Lord, isn’t this awful,” Sandy whispered, "awful.” She lay there planning wild, brilliant revenge against the wind —the tapping tree, Murilla. She awakened feverish, ready to cry with alarm at the slightest sound At 10 o’clock she put on her sweater. She was running down the walk. Ramon came. (To Be Continued) Hoosier Briefs Ralph Markley of Bluffton doesn’t agree with the tradition that a dog is man’s best friend. Stray canines killed eight of his prize chickens. Lee Drawhon of Elwood is minus a S6OO check which he gave to a friend to cash. Police are searching for the friend. Enraged because her husband loaned the family automobile to his brother, Mrs. Cheerful Decker, 30, mother of three children, swallowed poison in a suicide attempt at Mt. Vernon. Her condition is serious. A “nut” program was staged by the Fail-mount Kiwanis Club. No one wearing a collar and tie ■vS’as admitted. Glenn Fisher, touring the world Q-J T- Q. Ck

OUR BOARDING IIOUSE—By ATIERN

to his parents In Marlon telling of his visit to Rome. He expressed the wish that Marion might win the State basketball tourney. "Peck’s Bad Boy was an angel compared to several of my pupils," testified William Tilley, director of the Lodge Ave. school at Evansville. The boys are said to have stolen the school bell, taken a Christ-

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mas tree out of the window and performed several other pranks. Daniel Brink, 19, of Evansville, accidentally shot off his big toe while cleaning his gun. Farmers near New Ross are organizing a fire department. James D. Saunders, 72, former Evansville city engineer, has filed

MARCH m

for county surveyor on the iJfmoeratlc ticket. He was elected tie the office fifty years ago. f A youth sentenced to tho lfnfUuna State Reformatory, piercell the hard, professional heart off Marion Police Chief Lew LlndenmAith, by playing "Home, Sweet Hom," on an old French h"rp en rnuto t Pendleton. The officer wept. J