Indianapolis Times, Volume 39, Number 97, Indianapolis, Marion County, 31 August 1927 — Page 16

PAGE 16

@nne Austin

BEGIN HERE TODAY VERA CAMERON, plain business girl, allows herself to be transformed Into a beauty by JERRY MACKLYN, her boss, advertising manager for Beach Bloom Cosmetics Cos. Jerry falls In love with Vera, also called Vee-Vee, and his love persists even after he learns Vera consents to the transformation only because the man she falls In love with SCHUYLER BMYIHE, Ignores her. Vera spends her vacation at Lake Minnetonka because Smythe Is there. He and other guests mistake her for VIVIAN CRANDALL, ex-prlncesa. who after a Paris divorce Is In hiding. Vera tries to convince everyone of her true Identity but when she realizes Smythe Is In love with the girl he thinks she Is. she finds further confession difficult Hotel guests returning to the city notify the Crandalls of their supposed daughter's whereabouts. Bchuyler, who still thinks she Is Princess Vivian, steals a car and they flee. He confesses his love for her and proposes they be married at once. Believing he loves her for herself alone, Vera tells him the truth, substantiating her Identity with Jerry s letter. Smythe Is furious, revealing himself as a fortune-hunter. After his anger subsides he Is terrified by the thought that perhaps she is the Princess after all and Is trying to outsmart him. He attempts to retrieve but Vera has seen his true character. Two masked men stop them and Vera is whisked away by them In an airplane. She is taken to a shack In the mountains’whew PRINCE IVAN Vivian’s exhusband awaits them. Vera and the prince are horrified when the men announce they will hold them for a ran?om from tSe Crandalls. Vera convinces the prlnca that they must play otherwise the men. angered at flntUng her poor and unabfe to draw a ransom, will murder them. Meantime Jerry Macklyn in New York. read*“JL reaches of what has happened. When he reacnes his office, he is greeted by ROSEMARY PITCH, who stuns him with tno an nouncement she has seen Vera that ve y m °NOs' 00 ON WITH THE BTORY CHAPTER XXXVI mERRY MACKLYN knew then how a condemned man feels when he is reprieved. He literally collapsed ino his chair. “Say that over again and say it slowly. Remember I’m a weak man, Rosemary,” he begged, grinning wanly at her. “I said,” Rosemary laughed, that I saw Vee-Vee Cameron this morning. I was in the Bronx subway. We were just pulling into the Seventy-second street station when the train stalled in the tunnel for a minute. You know how it is—to let another train pass,” she explained breathlessly. “Yes, yes, go on,” Jerry urged her Impatiently. His brain was whirling. So Vee-Vee had escaped somehow, God bless her! She was in the city, would be .here any minute —But that, on the face of it, was ridiculous, unless the kidnapers had returned her to New York. All of his hideous worry for nothing! But oh, the relief! "I saw a girl pushing her way to the doors to get out at Seventysecond. She had on glasses, Mr. Macklyn, like she used to wear, but I saw right away it was Vee-Vee. I had Just been reading in the paper where this Vivian Crandall had been kidnaped and that she’d been using Vera’s name and I didn’t know what in the world to make of it. You know, for a minute I had the wild idea that it was our VeeVee that had been kidnaped, and I tell you I was scared—” "That was a wild idea!” Jerry agreed weakly, mopping his forehead with his handkerchief. “What did you say to her?” “I didn’t have time to say much,” Rosemary rushed on. “It was a funny thing, Mr. Macklyn, but I had one of those booklets In my hand—you know, “The Modem Story of an Ugly Duckling,’ and I’d been comparing Vee-Vee’s picture with that Vivian Crandall's, in the paper." *T thought I told you not to let anyone at all see those booklets, that they were not to go out of this office!” "I know, Mr. Macklyn,” Rosemary flashed. “But I’d just taken it home for mother to see. Surely mother doesn’t matter. And anyway what harm can it do for VeeVee to have one of them? The ■tory’s about her—” •You gave Vee-Vee one of those booklets?” Jerry demanded. "Yes, I did.” Rosemary burst Into tears. "I don’t see what you’re so sore about! I was just saying to her, ‘Vee-Vee,’ I said, ‘l’ve Just been reading in the papers about Vivian Crandall and I was scared to death it was you. I never was so glad to see anyone in my life,’ I said". “And what did she say?” Jerry Urged her, weakly collapsing again and closing his eyes. "She didn’t answer me. She was Just looking at the booklet I held In my hand, open to her picture. She said, ‘Let me see that, please,’ as If she was startled. I remembered what you’d said about VeeVee’s not wanting the booklets to be sent ..out, because she didn’t want everyone to be calling her "The Peach Bloom Girl’ and I said, ‘Oh, we’re not sending them out! Says Stomach Fine; Eats Anything Now Found How to End His Gas and Indigestion. Backache Gone, Too. Friends of Victor Blanchette, 2036 Erie St., Bradley, 111., were recently surprised by his rapid recovery of health. In explaining the matter, Mr .Blanchette says: “For a long time I suffered Intensely from stomach trouble, backache and constipation. Food would not digest, and the gas and bloating and pains were almost unbearable. I was nervous, tired and worn-out all the time. Night brought very little sleep. My back ached severely, and often my joints were stiff. I was losing weight and badly discouraged, when I read about Viuna and started taking it. I was never more surprised in my life than I was by the quick improvement in my condition. Today my digestion is perfect, without gas or pains. My backache is gone, joints are all right again, and I am sleeping soundly and gaining weight. Viuna gave me back my health after many other medicines had failed.” Yluna sets promptly bn eluirgtsfc bowels, lssy liver and weak kidneys. It purifies the blood, clears the skin, restores appetite and digestion, and brings new strength and energy to tbe whole body. Take a bottle on trial. 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Vee-Vee, until you come back from your vacation. I just took this one home to show mother. Here, you can have It,’ I said, and she took it, and just then the train jerked Into the Seventy-second street station and Vee-Vee pushed her way on out of the car. "I didn’t have a chance to say anything else and neither did she, but she turned at the door and smiled at me and waved. Gee, I was glad to see her. But what I can’t figure out is why that Vivian Crandall used Vera’s name, unless they were friends or something and —why, Jerry, is that why Vee-Vee had herself fixed up to look just like Vivian Crandall? We gi.ls have all been talking about it—how much our Vee-Vee looks like Vivian Crandall. Do you suppose she did it on purpose, so that heiress could use her name, and pretend to be Vee-Vee, Just to fool people and get a rest from the reporters and everything?” "I Imagine you are right, Rosemary,” Jerry pounced upon her explanation. “I bet those two girls have been having a lark,” he chuckled. “But the lark hasn’t turned out so well for the poor little rich girl who wanted to be just common folks, has It? She couldn’t put It over, poor kid! And now she’s God knows where, at the mercy of kidnapers. But I suppose the Crandall millions will get her out of It, all right.” When they had talked a few minuates longer, Rosemary suddenly developed an urgent necessity to communicate her news to anew audience. Jerry watched her trip out of the 'office on a pretext, knew exactly what she would do and wished that he could help her do It. Within half an hour every employe of the Peach Bloom Company would be told that Rosemary Fitch had seen Vera Cameron, had talked with her and knew to a certainty that it was the real Vivian Crandall who had been staying at the Minnetonka, using Vee-Vee’s name and getting herself kidnaped. Jerry Macklyn held himself rigidly to his desk all that day, not even leaving his office for lunch

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lest a telephone call which he was more than half expecting and ardently praying for would come and find him gone. It came at four o’clock, when he had almost given up hope. Rosemary was out of the office, as she had been most of the day, gossiping with other employes about the sensational kidnaping of Vivian Crandall, who had so strangely used Vera Cameron’s name, so Jerry answered the phone himself. “Mr. Macklyn?” a low, pleasant voice—the voice of cultured woman—came clearly over the wire. “Yes, this is Mr. Macklyn,” Jerry answered, his heart knocking against his ribs. “I am calling in reference to an advertising booklet, published by your firm. I was given your name by your switchboard operator as the advertising manager of the Peach Bloom Company,” the low voice went on firmly, without a quiver. “Good girl! A thoroughbred!” Jerry applauded her silently. Then aloud he said, “That is correct. I am the advertising manager of the Peach Bloom Company. Is there anything I can do for you, Miss—?” “I am going to make a rather extraordinary request of you, Mr. Macklyn,” the cool, musical voice went on. “If you are the author of the booklet, ‘The Modem Story of an Ugly Duckling,’ I feel sure you will understand without any further explanation on my part. My request is that you meet me as quickly as possible In my apartment, No. East 181st street, the Bronx. Apartment No. 4-B. Ring the bell three short rings. Do you understand?” “Perfectly,” Jerry assured her, and a click of the receiver at the other end of the line was his answer. “Whew!” Jerry sank back in his chair. “Jerry, my boy. you’ve got the biggest Job of your life ahead of you! And I don’t even know whether it’s etlquet to kiss a princess’ hand or to smack her on both cheeks, like that Frog general did when he pinned a medal on me In France.” Jerry knew his Bronx. He had

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been bom on Rivmgton street, on the lower East Side, had fought his way uptown with fists and brain, bringing his mother with him and establishing her in a decent home in the Bronx, which had seemed like Paradise to him after the pushcart district in which he had passed the first thirteen years of his very active life. His mother was dead now, and Jerry’s $25,000 a year as one of New York’s cleverest advertising men, could not buy her any of the luxuries he had promised her when he was a boastful, fighting, ambition-ridden little red-headed “Irisher.” The address which Vivian Crandall—he had not the slightest doubt that it was she—had given him was only two blocks from the flat building in which his mother had died six years ago. It was like coming home to get out of the familiar subway station, to pass the same old cigar store and “sea food” restaurant. But why wa3 Vivian Crandall lhing in a neighborhood like this? Decent enough, but peopled by the big families of lowsalaried men. The sidewalks were crowded with perambulators pushed by stout, placid-looking women of all ages, ambling from shop to shop, buying provisions for dinner. In spite of the heat and the noise and the overcrowdedness of it, Jerry loved It all, for it had been home to him for ten years—the happiest ten years of his life. He sniffed the mingled odors of overripe fruit, wilting vegetables, freshbaked bread, and fish—tons of fish, offered for Friday’s dinner—and found them sweet in his nostrils. The building which he sought was a four-story “walk-up” flat house; that is to say there was no elevator and no doorman.' Certainly a most amazing place for a Crandall to live, if she did live here! He scanned the four-row battery of bells and mall boxes, found the “A-B” easily enough, and read the card in the little slot below the number, as he pressed the bell three times. "Craig” was the one word on the card, neatly lettered in ink. So she was Miss Craig here! Odd how those assuming an alias instinctively retain their initials. Crandall—Craig! “Now. if she’d Just called herself Callahan, I know I’d like that woman, princess or no princess,”

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Jerry grinned to himself, as the automatic “clicker” in the inside door of the vestibule told him that his ring was being answered. He bounded up the first flight of stairs. By the time he had reached' the fourth floor he was not bounding, but walking rather slowly, dragging a little at the handrail. “Too many elevators in your life, Jerry, my boy!” he told himself ruefully. “Maybe the princess came here to reduce.” He pressed the bell on the door of apartment 4-B. (To be continued) Jerry wu rl*ht. He la face to face with Vivian Crandall. And Vivian baa a plan. Read the next chapter. Colored Clubs Incorporate Articles of Incorporation were filed with the secretary of State

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