Indianapolis Times, Volume 38, Number 66, Indianapolis, Marion County, 28 July 1926 — Page 10

PAGE 10

"Business Kisses” By BEATRICE BURTON Author of “Gloria, The Flapper Wise ,Ji

The names in this story are purely fictitious and are not be taken as refer rtiiK to any particular person. o r firm.

READ THIS FIRST FLOSSIE and MARY ROSE MIDDLETON are two pretty sinters, tha daughters of a widowed mother. They work for the Dexter Automobile Company. Mary Rose Is secretary to JOHN MANNERS, the sales manager, and is in love with him. He's engaged to DORIS HINIG. an heiress. Because of her feeling for him, Mary Rose repeatedly refu9es to malTy DR. yOM FITZFlossie, a born vamp does a very poor ipb of keeping the office files, Mary Rose discovers that alio is carrying on a flirtation with the president of the com pany. HILARY DEXTER, although she's engaged to his secretary. SAM JESSUP. The fact that Dexter is married doesn’t stop Flossie from joy-riding with him day and night, and her mother. MRS. M IDDLETON, can do nothing with her. John Manners falls in love with Mary Rose, and tells her he’d always care for her, although he s bound in all duty and honor to marry Doris. The sisters quarrel and to get even with Mary Rose, Flossie tells John that she is “Just stringing him along." pretending that she cares for him. and really Is in love with Tom Fitzroy. Manners , believes Flossie's convincing lie. and Mary Rose wonders at his sudden coldness toward her. MRS. DEXTER finds Flossie’s monogrammed vanity case in her husband’s oar. When she comes to his otfice to tell him she's going to divorce him, she finds Mary Rose there taking his dictation. Mistaking her for Flossie, she loudly accuses her of trying to steal her husband from her. The whole office force hears the undaserved tongue lashing that Mary Rose receives, and the girls snub her. Flossie, the real culprit, begs her net to tell that it was really she who was <in the car with Dexter, Jnecause she's afraid that if gam finds it out he won’t, marry her. And Mary Rose, who prayerfully hoofs that Sam will marry Flossie and get her out of Dexter s way, tal-u.-s the blame and the snubs. One nighs Dexter goes too far In his love making with Flossie and she finds out how a married man really feels about a srirl who'll go out with him. The next day she leaves home, bag and baggage And that night a special delivery letter comes for her. Mrs. Middleton gives it to Mary Rose to read. (Now Go On With the Story) CHAPTER XLVII The letter was a single short paragraph. badly typed. It was not signed. But the minute that Mary Rose started to read it she knew that Hilary Dexter had written it to Flossie. It sounded just like him —heavy and stiff. “My dear little girl,” he wrote. “You will learn as you grow that life is a constant struggle between right and wrong, between love and duty. I think you kfimv which you represent to me. And do I make myself clear when I say to you That you will not he annoyed again by me if you will come back to work? It is not pleasant for me to reflect that you have given up your job because of me. M.v only excuse for last night's blunder is that I lost my head, as any man could lose it over you.” Mary Rose could imagine the shout of scornful laughter with which Flossie would have greeted this stilted message. ‘jHe must have birds on his aerial to write a thing like that!” she would probably have said, giggling derisively. "You know who wrote that letter, don’t you, Mary Rose?” Mrs. Middleton asked her, so suddenly that she gave a start. > “Yes, mother, I do know,” she said, folding the paper and putting It back into its envelope. • • • She saw now that she should have told her mother about Flossie and Mr. Dexter long ago—aa long ago as the day last spring, when Flossie had come to hep to boast "the Big Boss is running arouna in circles about me!” And what Tom had said a while ago was the solemn truth. A mother has every right to know all about her family, its deeds and its misdeeds. Suppose that Mrs. Middleton, living her pure and shattered life, was PCZEMA La Relieve that itching, fwimlng torment and start the healing with Resmol

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old-fashioned! She was not too oldfashioned to understand about the sinfulness of Flossie’ love affair with a married man. For sin was oldfashioned, too. There was nothing on the face of the earth older than sin! Ever since the days of the Garden of Eden, when Eve came running to shoA Adam the apple, women mad held out the fruit of desire to men. And Flossie Middleton, with her uncorseted body, her rolled stockings and her tempting, pointed mouth, was only another daughter of Eve! • • • "Mr. Dexter wrote it,” Mary Rose said, tapping the letter with her forefinger. "HA’s been crazy about Flossie for perfect ages. I should have told you." Her mother’s face whitened and grew stern, as ivtary Rose never had seen it before in all her life. "You mean Mr. Hilary Dexter? The man you work for?” she asked, shaking her head with its coils of gray hair, as If she couldn’t believe it. Mary Rose nodded. Her lips framed the \yiord, "Yes.” She began to feel guilty and ashamed as she often had when she was a little girl, and her mother had scolded her for some baby naughtiness or other. "How long have you known about this?" Mrs. Middleton asked, severely. She was no longer the meek little mother whose daughters took charge of her bank account and ordered her to bed when she wanted to sit up and snooze in her chair. She had become in the twinkling of an eyo, the Head of her Family, once more. "I’ve know it for a long time," Mary Rose admitted. "I’ve wanted to tell you about it .time and time again. But I knew that if you scolded Flossie gjj out it, she’d leave home.”

" Nonsense!” her mother said shardply. "She never had any money to leave home on. You know, yourself, that she hardly ever paid her hoard! After she’d bought all the clothes she needed, she had barely enough for her lunches." What she said was true. Flossie never saved more than two or three dollars out of her weekly twenty. In the jargon of the day she “put everything she made on her back.” "I never stopped to think of that,” Mary Rose murmured faintly. "What’s probably happened is that she’s run off with the nincompoop of a Sam Jessup!” Mrs. Middleton went on shrewdly. She came, down the stairs and took Dexter’s letter away from Masy Rose. "You can see from this letter that she's quarreled with thlA man, and she’s probably getting even with him. by eloping with Sam! Biting off her nos© to spite her face, in other words!” \ She moved toward the telephone tablo as she spoke. ✓ "We did phone Sam, mother,” Tom told her. “And his landlady said he was out for the evening. So, it’s not likely that he's run off with Flossie.” “And this Dexter— You called him, too, I suppose?” asked Mrs. Middleton, and he nodded. "Then, there’s just one place where she could have gone—and that's to Alice James’," she decided.* 'Til call up and find out." ‘Wouldn’t it be better to go around and see if she’s there?" asked Mary Rose. “If she's decided to leave home it must be because she’s peeve,! at me. We had a little spat this morning. I'll go with Tom, and If she’s there, I’ll bring her home." When she and Tom reached the little "four-family" apartment where Alice James had her tiny flat, he ran up the- steps of the porch and rang the hell, while Mary Rose waited for him in the car. “Hello, you big pill and plaster man?" she heard Alice greet him. “I thought you’d be dropping around to see me one of these days. If I waited long enough—” ' Tom interrupted her gruffly: “I came to see if Flossie Middleton’s here!” he said, and Alice laughed shrilly. “Well, 1 should say ftfie isn’t! She knows better than to show her face around here!” she declared in her thin little ■tfoice. “Got me fired down at Dexter’s because I knew too much about her an’ the boss! She’s dumb, but not so dumb that she’d ever come around here! You better ask Dexter wheer she Is—!” And she slammed the door 1n Tom’s face. “I wonder if she could be with Dexter —” Mary Rose wondered, as they turned toward home. At 12 o’clock when she telephoned Dexter’s house he was still out. But to her enormous relief when she rang up again at 1, the man servant informed her that he had come in and gone to bed. Mrs. Middleton broke down then. "There’s nothing to do but let the police know and ask them to find her," she cried Into her handkerchief. “I know my girl’s been murdered —” She rocked to and fro in her little old rocking chaij-, the tears rolling down her small,'wrinkled face. “Don’t he foolish. Mother!" Tom sooted her, patting her shoulders as he spoke. "Who’d murder Flossie?” “How do we know?” Mrs. Middleton asked him wildly. "Here’s, she’s been leading this double life of hers—with Sam Jessup on one side and this Dexter on the other! How do we know whom she knows, or what she does? We don’t know anything about her! To think that a child

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of mine could He to me the way Flossie has!” It was too much for her. She cried and cried, and neither Tom nor Mary Rose could stop her. Finally Tom went out to his car for his bag and after a long argument, persuaded her to take a sleeping powder. Mary Rose put her to bed, and then went downstairs to say good night to Tom. “Whatever you do, don’t let her call up the police,” were his last words to her, as he stood on the porch, with his hat in his hand. “There’s no use in letting this story get into the papers. The thing to do Is to sit pretty and say nothing. We’ll hear from Flossie pretty soon.” • • • But they heard nothing. “Let's take Tom’s advice and keep perfectly still about the whole thing for a while,” Mary Rose said to her mother, as they set at the breakfast table, unable to touch the toast and coffee they had made for themselves. "And whatever you do, don’t let on to Aunt HBnny Blair when she comes in fori her daily gossip fest.” Mrs. Middleton promised that she wouldn't. \ “I’ll call you as soon as I go down to the office and look around,” Mary Rose added. “Maybe some of the girls down there know something about her.” But apparently no one did. Mary Rose went up into the files department before she tooq off her coat and hat. hoping against hope that she would find Flossie there, at her usual place behind the long table. How-

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evor, Miss Mlnnick was there alone, looking over old clippings with angry, resentful eyes. “I wish your sister had had more sense than to quit her Job in the middle of the week like this!” she added to Mary Rose. “I hate doing her work and if Dexter doesn’t hire somebody else to do it pretty darned quick, I’m going to start reading the ‘Help Wanted’ ads, and get me a new little job of work!” “Is Dexter dwn at the office, yet?” Mary Rose asked. Miss Minnlck nodded. “Sure, he’s always here! He’s so afraid he might lose a cent if he missed a day!” She threw her clippings into an envelope and . tMßjned a steel drawer on them viciously. “My stars, but you're in a sweet mood, Min!” Mary Rose femarked and went down to Dexter's office. On the way she reflected that, somehow or other, the office had lost all its charm tpr her. It was not that Miss .Minnick was cross, or that Flossie and Dexter had spoiled the place for her. The closed door of John Manners’ oiffce seemed to be the center of the dullness and the loneliness that had settled down over it. He never left it open any more, so that he could see Mary Rose as she bent over her desk in the outer oiffce. He never greeted her cheerfully as he once had, or asked her to drive home with him to see his mother. Something that Flossie had once said popped into Mary Rose’s mind, as she looked at that closed door —“No girl enjoys her job or loves it unless she loves the man she

SALESMAN SAM—By SWAN

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES—By MARTIN

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

works for!” “She certainly had that right, anyhow!” thought Mary Rose, as she passed on to Mr. Dexter’s private office. She found him alone, sitting staring at the wall above his big glass-topped desk. He swung around in his chair when she came in and his eyes lighted up. "Good morning, good morning!" he said, and stood. “What pan I do for you today. Miss Middleton?” Mary Rose looked at him for a full minute, studying him from under her level black brows. She saw that he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “Mr. Dexter,” she asked, “do you know where my sister, IHossle, is?” (To Be Continued) What excuse does Dexter make to Mary Rose for his attention to Flossie?—Read tomorrow’s installment. LEADS IN MAPLE WARSAW, N. Y—New York State produced more maple sugar and syrup this year than Vermont. Os the large producing counties in the State, Wyoming County stands at the head with a production of 86,000 pounds. GAS HIGH IN FRANCE It amounts to onls 37 cents a gallon, but to the tourish in France it's 14 U francs for a can of five liters, about a gallon and a half. A jump of almost 2 francs was made recently.

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WATER OF CAMPS IS FOUND BAD \ - State Food and. Drug Commission Issues Warning to Motorists. If reports from the State food and drug commission are to be believed, it will be safer this summer when out on a week-end tour with the family to quench one’s thirst from a bottle—soda, of course—than with water from camp wells. Investigations of department have shown that the water supply in practically half of the tourist camps of the State is of doubtful purity. The commission is checking water supply in camps as fast as possible and wheiever the water is considered good a certificate is posted in a conspicuous 'place to inform the tourist of the fact. L. S Finph, water and sewage department director, said that another danger that confronts the tourist in this State is the contaminated spring. Ordinarily, he said, the average person considers spring water pure, whereas the opposite generally is true. Finch also jaid that almost HO per cent of the wells

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dug in this State show contamination in a dangerous degree. The dangers of the tourist are not confined to the country, howfever, for it was pointed out by Finch that there are seven towns in Indiana which make no pretense of purifying their water supply and unless the traveler is careful, typhoid might result from drinking such water. Typhoid at the present time is far be low the normal expectancy. Finch said. ' PLEADS FOR IKK) $ PASSIAC, N. J.—“ Send me to jail, but don’t shoot my dog.” That was the jSfca of 18-year-old Josephine Grabouise when a judge offered the choice between jail and a fine of $6.80 for failing to obtain a license for her dog. She was escorted to jail, but released later in the day jvhen a friend paid the fine. ACCREDITED POULTRY A program that puts a premium on quality in the poultry flock has been adopted by five mid western States with the cooperation of the Govomment. A flock is specified as' accredited when it contains only hens which have been inspected and coßNsinn Quickrelieffrompainful V■ corns, tender toes and pressure of tight shoes. ■ Dl Scholl's Xkno-pads

JULy . 1926

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