Indianapolis Times, Volume 38, Number 143, Indianapolis, Marion County, 21 September 1926 — Page 8

PAGE 8

“The VANITY CASE” A Tale of Mystery and Love By CAROLYN WELLS

BEGIN HERE TODAY r Mysterious lights flssh from the Heath bungalow one night and the next day Harbor Gardena. Long Island, is agog over the murder of MYRA HEATH I’ERRY l ** sappearance °* * ier husband. __ House guests of the Heaths are LAWRENCE INMAN, heir to Myra's fortune, and beautiful BUNNY MOORE, to whom suspicion points because of her tueer actions. HcaJh neve.r used cosmetics, yet when ncr body was found she was heavily rouged. A rare pid bottla from ner collection of glass h£td been used to hill her. Candles were burning at her head and feet. At the country club the murder is discussed by SAM ANDERSON. Heath’s rival for the club CUNNINGHAM. who is trying to solve the crime, and others. Bunny is amazed to get if phone call from Perry Heath, saying Inman is tho murderer. Cunningham goes to Ander- ’ son’s house and there, while waiting for Ills host, is confronted by Perry Heath, who then slips away in the darkness. Anderson arrives soon after and upbraids Cunningham for letting Heath lfe BUCK, who is in love with Bunny, is witness to a nocturnal meeting between tho girl and Heath He tries to get Bunny to explain, and when she refuses he calls in his friend. STEVE TRUITT, a famous detective. Bunny tells Truitt she had gone downstairs ths night of the murder and seen Myra Heath not yet could in death and Inman peeping from behind a curtain. Truitt'questions Inman and then, inspecting the Heath home, discovers something peculiar about a window. He then ..rejoins Buck and tho latter’s aunt. THE STORY CHAPTER XL,IX "I found practically nothing of importance,*’ Truitt said, then, seeing Tod's blank look of disappointment, he added, “except Mr, Inman himself. He wouldn't admit he had seen you that night, Miss Runny, until I told him that you had told me of it yourself. Then he loosened up a little, but he still feared a irap. However, he did admit that he went downstairs almost immediately after you came up, and said he went down to see what scared you so.” “H’m,” said Mrs. Prentiss, “a little fishy. But, see here, Mr. Truittt, that checks up the lights. You know the place was dark as a pocket at 1 o'clock. Then, Bunny comes down at half past one, snaps on a bright light, and in about fifteen minutes turns it out and goes upstairs. Then, 'long about two, Mr. Inman comes clown. Big light again, afid soon he snaps it off and goes upstairs. Then, no more lights all night.” Except the two small sparks— ’’ “Yes—those the murderer put there —” "The murderer being?” "Inman!” exclaimed Tod. “You must have seen, Steve,s, how queer he was, how, you know —furtive, and that sort of thing. Sly, uncommunicative, until he concluded to say something, then his words came out in a perfect sluice.” ‘Not much of a psychologist, are you, Tod?” and Truitt smiled at him. “Oh, get out. I know what I know. I know the thing rests between Bunny and Inman. I know —you know, Bunny didn't do it. therefore, arid wherefore, it was Inman.” “Going to take me over to the club tonight. Tod?” And as Toddy agreed, the whole subject was dropped by common consent, and one of Mrs. Prentiss' justly famed dinners was enjoyed with no accompanying talk of horrors. But after dinner, Cunningham telephoned that they were to come over to Sam Anderson’s house instead of to the club, as he had invited a few chums there for billards, /nd didn't want to go out. ' ' Sq over they went, Truitt admiring as they walked briskly along, the bridge, the brook it crossed and the delightful, though different landscape on either side. Sam Anderson was polite, even cordial, hut it was plain to be seen that, as he was expecting gu,ests, he must want them to make their visit brie* v Cunningham was the embarrassed one, for he had brought about this interview with no reason hut a hope that it might be helpful to himself, and It was a little difficult to explain. “I—l wanted you men to meet Mr. Truitt,” he ]>egan a little lamely, hut Tod Buck threw himself into the breach. "It’s all wght, Mr. Anderson," he smiled: “wo won't stay hut a few minutes. I know you’ve got a party on. But to come down to brass tacks. I’m told that you Park people suspect Miss ’Moore, of the Heath crime, and I’m asking you, if you have any real, any definite evidence against her. And, if you haven’t, if you won’t—you, Mr. Anderson, as one of the most influential Park men—if you wqn’t do what you car. to squash that rumor—or suspicion, or whatever you call it.” “My dear boy,” Sam Anderson at him, “you’re barking up the wrong tree! I haven’t the slightest suspicion that Miss Moore did or could cpmmlt that terrible chime! Why, the mere idea is inconceivable.

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And I’ve said so every time I have been where the thing was discussed.” "Gool for yqu, Anderson? and Tod wrung \js hand. "I suppose not all tho P&rk people think alike, then.” “Whom do you suspect, Mr. Anderson?” Truitt asked, feeling that the time might be short, and he must learn all he could quickly. "Why, I’m not sure I ought to voice a suspicion, and yet, if it's to help save the name and fame of a fair lady—of a young girl, I suppose I need not hesitate. lam quite willing to put it on record that such evidence as has been rehearsed in my hearing, leads me to think that the criminal was Mr. Inman. I may be wrong. I can only say he seems to me'the most likely suspect, as far as I can see.” “You don’t think, then,” Truitt went on, “it could have been the injured husband? You don't think Perry Heath did it?” “Ho.w did .he make a getaway afterward? I understand the house was locked up like a hank.” Anderson seemed willing to talk, at least, until his guests arrived, so Truitt kept him at it. “Yes, I hear it was. But why would Mr. Inman kill the woman he lotted?” "Do you remember a line of a famous poem, Mr. Truitt? It runs: " ‘For each man kills the thing he loves.’ Not entirely true, of course, but a man might do that from jealousy, or unrequited Hove. And, too, Mr. Inman is the heir. Oh, I don't know, of course, but he seems to me a far more likely suspect than Heath. I've heard the Heaths were married for several years,, and though as a bachelor such things are outside of my line, I don’t think the average man is jealous enough to murder his wife tfter they have lived together as long as that.” • “That’s- so,” Truitt agreed, and then Sam Anderson’s guests began to arrive and the callers left. From Tod, from Bunny, from Mrs. Prentiss, and even calling in one or two of the servants, it Neemed Steve Truitt would never cease his endless firing of queries. On all sorts of subjects, seemingly with all sorts of objects, but all more or less connected with the Heaths or with other of the Harbor people. At last, he went off by himself and smoked a cigar in silence and solitude. He returned, smiling and debonair. And made himself so entertaining and agreeable, that he seemed no more a prosaic detective, but a gay and joUy chum of Tod’s. But after Mrs. Prentiss and Bunny had gone to bed, Truitt turned to Tod with a serious face. “Old man," he said, “that woman was killed either by her husband or her cousin.” “Right, oh, oracle! I’m glad you see it that way.” “Heath, you know, is still in the neighborhood.” "Was last night.” “Is still. And tonight, my laddie, he will visit the house next door.” “Important, if true." “Yes, that’s just it. Maybe he won’t. But I think —I strongly believe he will.” , “Do you happen to know what he will come for?” “I do.” He will come to get a book out of the—- i.-s there a library?” “No, books are in the studio.” “All right, then. He’ll come to- get a book out of the studio. Shall we conceal ourselves behind the arras, and nab him when he arrives?” “T was awake most of last night— ’’ “Oh, puddingheud! Stay at home, then, *l’ll go alone, or, better yet, I'll get your aunt to go with me. I must have a witness.” “Os course I’ll go. If I fall asleep, you can punch me when he comes.” Admitting to himself, but not to Tod, that it might be a wild goose chase, Truitt led the way and followed by his friend, went silently across the lawn to the Heath house. “Sit there," he whispered, pointing to a lawn settee, “and don't move till I tell you.” 1 - Tod did so, and ten minuteis later, Truitt came to him and jogged his elbow. “All set.” he whispered. To Tod's amazement, one of the French windows in the studio was open. / "HowM you do that?” he exclaimed, but Steve only said, "Hush”! and pushed him inside. (To Be Continued.) MONKEY "Spec" O’Donnell, the kid with the squint eyes and a million freckles, is playing a powder monkey aboard the frigate "Constitution,” in James Craze's “Old Ironsides,’’ a Paramount picture.

OUT OUR WAY—By WILLIAMS

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Saimit aid Simmer By ANNE AUSTIN

WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE Both CHERRY LANE, 18, an unscrupulous flirt, and FAITH LANE, 20, stay-at-home drudsre lor the family of six. are attracted to 808 HATHAWAY, who. oil his first visit to the houe-. shows plainly that he is immensely Intrigued witli Cherry’s beauty. That night, after Hathaway has left, Cherry slips nut for a rendezvous with CHRIS WILEY, to whom her father, JIM LANE, has forbidden the hupse. He tries to atduet her, she screams, arousing her father and Faith, but tells hbr father she does not know who her To Faith she confesses, and begs Faith not to tell her father and mother. In an effort to make up with B’aith. Cherry promises to buy her material for a dress, when she buys herself one. She brings homo a pattern that she well knows Faith cannot wear, expecting to get it herself. Faith starts to tell her mother the truth about the adventure of the night before, but Cherry's frightened pleading stops her. Faith gets a telephone can from JUNIOR. 21. who has been arrested for speeding. She pawns every trinket she has to get limi out of trouble without telling her father, and he promises to pay her back. Cherry tells Faith she has Invited CHESTER HART. Faith’s iormer ’ ’steady. ’’ whom Cherry has vamped away from her sister, to dinner. He. in turn, lias invited GEORGE PRUITT to go to a movie with them, and Pruitt, when introduced to Faith, remarks. Incredulously: "Good Lord! I didn’t know they grew them like you any more. Miss Lane.” CHAPTER YIII “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Pruitt!” Faith blushed with painful confusion. George Pruitt did not answer immediately. His eyes were traveling with greedy Interest over the fine column of her throat, along the splendid sweep of her shoulders, down the rounded, bare forearms, along her perfectly proportioned tall body to her long, slender feet in their Cuban-heeled- white canvas shoes. i “Oh, Faith’s a corn fed!” Cherry’s tinkling laugh rang out. "I tell her she ought to reduce ten pounds. Why, she weighs a hundred and thirty-five!” She told the amateur artist this in naive horror. “I only weigh ninety-ftn’e!” .‘‘Reduce! My Lord, would you want to make a flapper out of the Venus de Milo?” George Pruitt de manded. “If you only knew how we fellows have scoured New York for Just your type of models, Miss Lane,” and he brushed Cherry aside as if she had been a kitten frolicking a!""his feet, “you'd be able to imagine my surprise at finding you here.” "Oh, George, you old rascal!” Chester Hari slapped his thigh and chortled with glee. “Some line, that!

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Gosh, you artist guys can get away with murder! When I want to tell a dame I've fell for her hard, all I can say Is, ’Gee, kid, you're some baby!” but old George tells ’em they’re the Venus bag-o-meelo and he’s sittin’ pretty! Oh, to an artist! Faith, you better watch this Dird! He's the swift one, all right, all right!” "Oh, take a tuck In your mouth!" George Pruitt turned on him wrathfully. “I’m going to paint Miss Lane’s picture, if she’ll let me. I may have to sell wholesale groceries to make a living, but by golly, I’m not going to pass up a chance to get a model like you. Will you pose for me, Miss Lane?” Faith glanced at Chercy, saw that the lovely little face was white and pinched with anger and jealously. "I’m afraid,” she said slowly, as if the words came hard, “that I won't have time, Mr. Pruitt. But—thank you—just the same.” Cherry's face bloomed again. With a deep curtsey, she presented herself to George Pruitt’s admiration. "How would you like me for a model, Mr. Pruitt?” “Thanks, sometime, perhaps," George Pruitt turned away from her almost rudely, and addressed himself to Faith. “I suggested to Chester that we all go to the movies. Would you enjoy that?” “We’re regular movie fans. Mr. Pruitt,” Cherry cut in before Faith could answer. “Os course we’ll be delighted.” “You’re coming In my car, aren’t you, Miss Lane?" George Pruitt took Faith’s elbow as they walked toward the two cars parked at the eurb. “Chester‘ll be jealous. Faith,” Cherry called out gaily. “I hardly think so, since he came to call on you,” Faith answered quietly, as she stepped into George Pruitt’s racy looking roadster. • • • The next morning Cherry was sulking like a bad child. She had not spoken to Faith since *George Pruitt and Chester Hart had taken their leave at eleven-thirty the night before. “Hello, Folks! Here’s your old Aunt Hattie, come to spend the day!” The - JfxWMg^^uakfastlng,

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES—By MARTIN

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER

chorused feeble, unenthusiastic greetings to the thin, elderly, tightmouthed- little spinster, Mr. Lane's sister, who lived away over on the South Side with “Grandpa and Grandma” Lane. “How are you, Hattie? How's ma and Pa?” Mrs. Lane asked in her complaining, sighing voice. “Pretty well, considering." Hattie Lane took the chair which her brother gave up hastily, as if glad to escape. “I declare, Jim, you’re lookin’ real old. Square up them shouldres o’ yourn! You ain’t dead yet! -Martha, you’ve put on ten pounds if you've put on an ounce since I seen you last. You’re scandaloug fat. But you look better’n you have in a coon’s age. Been taking that Indian Herb medicine I brought you?” “I ain’t better, Hattie.” Mrs. Lane’s face flushed darkly and her brown eyes snapped angrily. “I don’t sleep an hour a night, and the pain in my legs and shoulders Is somethin’ fierce. Easy for you to talk, Hattie, you strong as a mule. Nobody knows what I go through—” "Well, if we don’t. It ain't because you don't tel! us!” Hattie Lane brushed her sister-in-law’s complaints asicto^'briskly. “Faith, pour me a cup of coffee! And If you’ve got a wee mite o’ toast left, you might pop It in the oven and wapn it up for me/ But don’t go to no trouble for me. I had my breakfast hours ago—Cherry Lane, you march right to the bathroom and scrub that paint off your checks and lips! The idee! All smeared up like a Indian! I should think you’d be ashamed of yourself. What you’re thinkin' of, Martha Lane, to let her poke her head out o’ the house lookin’ like a chorus girl, with them short ballet skirts on showin’ her garters—” - “Aune Hattie, I wish you’d mind your own business!” Cherry scraped her chair back from the table and flung her napkin violently into the center of the table. “Cherry! Remember your Aunt ’ Hattie's a lot older than you! Don’t make Mama ashamed of you!” Mrs. I*me raided the girl half-heartedly. “If she was a child o’ mine—” Hattie Lane began heatedly, but Cherry had fled from the room, her cheeks flaming beneath the light dusting of mandarin rouge. Hattie turned her steely bright eyes upon Junior, who ducked, shielding his face with an arm, in mock terror. The lively spinster's face softened, as it always did whyn her eyes rested upon Jim, Junior. “Ain’t no call to act as if I wAs

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goln’ to slap you, Junior,” she grinned wryly at him. “Where in the name of tarnation did you get that necktie? Looks like a egg broke up in a bowl o’ beet juice!” “It's a batik, Aunt Hattie! Joy giggled. “That Fay Allen that Loyg's runnin’ uround with made it for him. You do it with parrafine ’n’ paints ’n’ —-” “That will do, Joy!” her mother reached over and thumped the tow head with her thumb and middle finger. “Go to the bathroom and wash your knees this minute! I declare to goodness, you always look like you’d been crawlin’ through the alley! And wash the egg off your mouth!” “I already washed!” Joy 'scuffed her brown leather sandals sulkily as she walked slowly out of the room. “Do as I tell you, and no back talk frojn you. young lady!" her mother told her sternly. “Here's a coddled egg for you. Aunt Hattie, and nice fresh pieces of toast,” said Faith, hurrying in from the kitchen, her face flushed and anxious. Aunt Hattie for a whole day! “Umm! Only- one of the family that’s worth the powder and lead it’d take to blow their brains out,” and Aunt Hattie looked up at Faith with twinkling eyes. "I come over to, get you to help me cut out my new black and white voile. Faith. I brought you a piece o goofis, too. I was doin’ a little tradin’ at the Banner Store yesterday, when Cherry was buyin’ up that flowered stuff for herself. Heard her tell the clerk that you wanted some maize colored chiffon, but she thought you'd like that bigfiggered stuff better. Hunh! I’m up to her tricks! Open that bundle on the sideboard, and see how you like it. That blondined young snip that waited on me said it was maize color all right—” “Oh. Aunt Hattie!” Tears furred Faith's voice, as she lifted the lovely, soft, yellow material from the wrappings. “It’s exactly what I wanted. You’re a darling to give it to me!”' She flung her arms around the stiff, scrawny little figure and kissed her on a withered cheek. v “Hunh! Guess somebody’s got to think of you once in a while! Got a beau to spring it on? Hear that young Hathaway’s found out where the Lane family lives. Don’t let Cherry walk off with him! I’ve had my eye on him for you for a month o’ Sundays! Now, if you lazy folks have set around this breakfast table long enough, scoot —all of you! Me and Faith's got a pile o’ Sfork. to do todayl

OUR BOARDING HOUSE—By AHERN

“Let’s tackle these dishes first, Faith, ’n then I'll red up the bedrooms while you stick the shears In this mess o’ yellow stuff o’ yours. No hurry about my black and white voile. What you hangin’ around for, Junior? I declare, I believe the big baby wants a kiss! There, now! Clear out and let us women folks git busy!” “What’s Cherry got her dander up about this time?” Aunt Hattie asked, as she wie'ded a vigorous dish cloth over an eggy plate. “Chester Hart and George Pruitt were over her last night,” Faith answered hesitatingly. She loathed gossiping against Cherry, but It was very hard to hoodwink Aunt Hattie. “Chester had come to see Cherry—” “Your beau!” Aunt Hattie demanded. “Well, if that don't beat all! And who's this George Pruitt? Not kin to them rich Lincoln Pruitts, is he?” “Their only son,” Faith smiled. “Chester invited him to come and go to the movies with us. I suppose Chester was feeling pretty mean —about me, you know —and wanted to make it np to me—” "And George Pruitt fell for you, and Cherry’s mad enough to bite nails in two,” Aunt Hattie chuckled

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SEPT. 21, 192 G

triumphantly. “Well, land o’ livln’l I’d a-givc a farm to a-seen her face! 1 •And here I was grinnin’ to myself because I seen you blush when 1 1 mentioned Bob Hathaway’s name! 1 There you go again! Well! Oh, drat it! There's the doorbell! I’ll an- 1 swer It.” When Aunt Hattie returne4 1* the | kitchen, she was carrying in her| arms an enormous florist's box, and i her eyes were snapping with excite-] ment. "More flowers for Charry?” Faith | asked, drying her hands. “From Bob Hathaway, I suppose.” "Guess again, young lady!” Aunt Hattie crowed delightedly. "They’re j for Miss Faith Lane! And from thM size of the box, I bet they’re theriß long-stemmed American beauties!” (To Be Continued) HUSBAND DID THE WASHING Hit Wife Confined to Her Bed by 111 Health Because of his wife’s frequett 111 health. Mr. ,T. F. Gage was obliged

'to do the washing and cooking for. the family. One day when Mrs. Gage was confined to her bed, he brought her the newspaper to read. Among the advertisements she noticed a letter from another sick womgji tell-

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lng of the help she had received from Lydia E. Plnkham’s Vegetable Compound. “I’ll try It," Che decided. Her husband brought home a bottle and only a few days after she had begun to take It she felt well enough to be up around the house. Gradually her general health improved until she Is now able to do her own work. In a letter which Mrs. Gage recently wrote, she said, “I have takers twelve bottles and feel like a ne£ woman.” She has told many *about Lydia E. Plnkham’s Vegetable Compound and one of her friends is now taking it. Her address is Mrs. J. F. Gage, Route 5, JBrowawood, Texas. Ask your uolghbo* 1 i , .. r-jMncpwMik i