Indianapolis Times, Volume 39, Number 300, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 April 1928 — Page 16

PAGE 16

NOBODY'S GIRL AUyTIN autkor-oftfa PENNY PRINCE/Y ~

f THIS HAS HAPPENED SALLY FORD is “farmed out” to CLEM CARSON the* summer she is 10 and leaves the State orphaange, the only home sh/ has known from the lime she was four. There she meets DAVID NASH, athlete and student, working on the farm for the summer. When Carson makes insulting remarks about their innocent friendship, David strikes him a crushing blow. Sally and David rdun away and join carnival train. David as cook's helper and Sally in the sideshow disguised as “Princess Falla. ’’ crustal gazer. NITA. Hula dancer, becomes infatuated with David and threatens to expose Sally to the police for the Carson affair if she doesn’t keep “hands ofT” David. Sally tells David they must run awav again. David points out the obstacles to their love, but Sally says nothing can lessen her love for him and that she will wait. She tells him the crushing news she has learned that day about her mother, which MRS. BYBEE has uncovered for her in Stanton. The woman who had left her at the Home was not her mother, but a maid hired to take the baby from New York and disappear. As they sit there, they arc startled to hear Nila’s voice in the darkness near them, addressing a man whom she calls Steve. Once in Capital City, SSallv forgets her fear of detection and roams boldly about under the charming disguise of the crystal gazer. Late Thursday as she gazes into her crystal, she is aroused by a voice beside her. She raises her eves to see an Easterner of apparent culture, well-dressed, handsome, and in his wise, cynical eye Sally bee something that makes her shudder. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER XXV */~\UITE delicious, really!” the man with the cultured, eastern accent drawled, leaning more nonchantly on his cane and twinkling his too wise, too bold black yes at ‘‘Princess Lalla.” “But really now, I wouldn’t say you’re a freak, your highness. In fact, you’re quite the most delicious little morsel I’ve seen since I left New York. If I were a Ziegfeld scout I assure you I’d be burbling your praises in a ruinously verbose telegram, and the devil take the expense. Would you mind lifting that scrap of black lace that is tantalizing me most provokingly? I am tormented with the hope that your big eyes are really the purple pansies they appear to be through your veil. ‘‘No?” He shook his head with humorous resignation as Sally shook her head in violent negation. ‘ Well, well!” One can’t have everything, and really your arms and your adorable little hands and your Tanagra figurine body should be quite enough—as an appetizer. You don’t happen to ‘spell’ the Hula dancer—the ancient but still hopeful lady who has just been exercising her hips for my benefit —do you? But I suppose that is too much to ask of Providence. Life is full of these bitter disappointments, these nagging, unsatisfied desires —” ‘‘Please!” Sally gasped, forgetting her carefully acquired accent which had been bequeather her, by way of Mrs. Bybee, by the erstwhile “Princess Lalla." now in a hospital, minus her appendix, but still too weak to jeopardize Sally’s job. “I—l'm not

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permitted to talk to the audience—” “Child, child!” the New Yorker protested, raising a beautifully kept hand admonishingly. “Spare me! I’m always being met with signs like that in New York—in elevators, busses, whatnots— But since lam intrigued with the music of your voice—a very young and un-Turkish voice, if I may be permitted to say so—l shall be delighted to cross your little brown palm with silver, provided you will guai’antee that your make-up does not rub off. I’m deplorably finicky.” Sally, overwhelmed by his gift for monologue, uttered in a teasing, bantering, intimate voice of beautiful cadences, looked desperately about her for help. But she was temporarily deserted by both audience and barker. Gus was at the moment ballyhooing Jan, the Holland giant, the chief attraction of the Palace of Wonders. His recital of the vast quantities of food which the nine-foot-nine consumed daily never failed to hold the crowd enthralled. “You’ll have to wait till Gus,j the barker, starts my performance,” j she told him nervously, making no | effort to deceive the blase New i Yorker by a tardy resumption of | her “Turkish” accent. “But—oh,! please go away! Don’t tease me j you’ll spoil the show if you make , Smart-Aleck remarks on everything j I say and do.” “Smart-Aleck?” The easterner j raised his silky black brows, while j his humorous, but cruel mouth, be- J neath a small, exact black mustache, j twitched with a rather rueful smile. “Child, that is the unkindest cut | of all! If I had bees reared west of \ Fifth Avenue or a little farther i downtown I would undoubtedly I phrase it as a nasty crack! But we’ll j let it pass.” He walked nonchalantly up the steps leading to her platform and stood before her, only the small, black-velvet draped table with the crystal between them. When he spoke again, in his humorous drawl, with his bold black eyes twinkling and challenging her, his words could not have been heard by anyone ten feet away: “Will you permit me, your highness, to read the crystal for you? I’m really rather a wizard at it—a wow, as they say on Broadway, though I assure you, your highness, that I’m not a man to succumb to the insidiousness of slang. You must be rather tired of gazing, gazing, gazing into this intriguing, but slightly flawed ball of glass—” and he touched it with a long, delicate i finger, with a humorous contempt- j uousness that suggested an intimate j bond between the professional and i

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“ Please go away!” Sally pleaded breathlessly. “Why do you want to make fun of me? I have to earn my living somehow—” “Do you?” he smiled, his brows going higher, while deep laugh ! wrinkles appeared suddenly in the i clear olive of his lean cheeks. “Now I’m sure you should let me read the crystal for you, for it is obvious that you have not looked into the future at all!” He cupped his slim, beautiful hands about the crystal, his back bending in an arch as graceful as the arch of a cat’s back. The posture brought his face very near to hers, so that she saw the fine grain of his skin, caught a faint, indefinable, but enchanting odor from his sleek dark hair, almost as dark as her own. , He had dropped his hat upon the edge of the little table, and it too j fascinated and repelled her, for its dove-gray richness insolently suggested that its owner possessed boundless money and almost wickedly sure taste. But eve® item of his dress told the same story, so she really should j not have picked on the hat to hate ; particuraly. But she did; she j wanted to brush it off the table, to see his flash of anger at its being soiled with the dust from “rubes’ ” feet—- “ Marvelous!” His voice became i mockingly hushed and mysterious, j as he pretended to gaze into the | very heart of the crystal. “I see | your whole past boiling away in this | magic crystal slightly flawed,! though it is!” “My past!” she shivered, forget- i ting that he was faking just as she | did. “You’ve run away from home, | from poverty,” he went on in that: mockinug, too beautiful voice, his | black eyes shifting form the crystal j to play their insolent, confident fire ! upon her wide-eyed face. • “And j you’ve run away from —a man! Os course,” he added lightly, “you’ll j always be running away from a man j —men —every man that looks at! you. You're absolutely irresistible, j you know, child! But ah, at last you will find him—the man from whom you will not run away! Now, shall I read the future for you?” “Please go away. Gus is coming!” Sally pleaded through childishly quivering lips that would have showed ashen-pale if they had not j been thickly overlaid with carmine, , “Dear old Gus! I look -forward j to being pals with Gus, when I give j him the password. Now, the future j —ah, my dear, what a future! Broadway! Bright lights! Music! And Princess Lalla in the chorus first, the most adorable little ‘pony’

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of them all! I shall sit in the baldheaded row and toss roses to you, child, and whisper to the eggs next me that ‘I knew her when’—when she was a delicious little fake Turkish princess, escaped from the Sultan’s harem. And I see a man—let me look closely—a tall, dark man, rather handsome—” and he laughed insolently into her eyes. “La-dees and gen-tle-men! Right this way, please! I want you all to meet Princess Lalla, from Con-stan-ti-no-ple—” Gus, the barker, was approaching with long, swift strides, the crowd milling behind him, like sheep following a bell-wether. “I’ll finish your future in our next seance.” The New Yorker straightened, smiled into her eyes unhurriedly, bowed mockingly, lifted his hat, placed it on his sleek head, retireved his cane whiqh had been leaning against the crystal-stand, and vaulted lightly to the ground. Gus eyed him menacingly, suspiciously, but beamed when the easterner pressed a bill into his hands and withdrew to the outskirts of the crowd, where he evidently intended to listen to the spieler's introduction of Princess Lalla. Sally got through her performance somehow, burningly conscious of bold black eyes regarding her admiringly. When she pattered down the steps and along the flattened stubble of the earth floor of the Lnt on her way to the dress tent to rest between shows, a slim, immaculate figure detached itself from the crowd that was wandering reluctantly toward the exit. “Cook tent fare must grow rather monotonous,” his low, drawling voice stopped her. “I suggest relief —supper with me after the last performance tonight. I am stopping at the Governor’s mansion, and have the use of one of the official limousines. Credentials enough?” He raised his eyebrows whimsically, but his detaining grasp of her arm was not neatly so gentle as his voice. “No. no!” Sally cried. “I—l'm not that kind of girl! Please let me go—” “Oh. spirit of H. L. Mencken hear me!” the New Yorker prayed. “Do girls in the Middle West really say that still? I wouldn’t have believed it! ‘l’m not that kind of girl! ” he repeated, laughing delightedly. “Os course you aren't darling! No girl ever is! • And heaven forbid that I should be the sort of man—fellow, you say out here?—that you evidently believe I am! Now that we understand each other, I again suggest supper, a long, cooling drive in the Governor's choicest limousine—the old boy docs himself rather well in cars, at the expense of the State —and a continuation of my ex-

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tremely accurate reading of your future.” “No!” Sally flared, her timidity submerged in anger. “Let me go this minute! I don’t like you! I hate you! If you don’t turn loose my arm. I’ll—l’ll scream ‘Hey, rube’—” “What a dire threat!” the New Yorker laughed with genuine amusement. “Am I the rube? Is that your idea of a taunt so crushing that—” “It means,” Sally said with cold fury, "that every man connected with the carnival will rush into this tent and—and siipply tear you to pieces! It’s the SOS signal of the circus and carnival, and it always works! Now—will you let me go? I swear I’ll scream ‘Hey, rube!’ if you don’t—” “And I had planned such a delicious supper.” the New Yorker mourned mockingly as he slowly released her arm, as if reluctant to forego the pleasure that rounded slimness and smoothness gave his highly educated fingers. Sally cried a little in the dress tent, but she was too angry to give way utterly to tears. The thought which stung her pride most hurtingly was that the New Yorker had seen something bad in her eyes, something of the mother of whose shame she was a living witness. “But —I guess I shoewd him!” she told herself fiercely as she dabbed \ fresh brown powder on her tear- ; streaked face. "He won’t dare bother me again.” But he did dare. He was a non- j chalant, smiling, insolent figure, leaning on his cane, as she went i through the next performance. She ! pretended not to see him. but never for a moment, as she well knew, did ; his cold black eyes waver from their j ironic, but admiring, contemplation i of her enchanting little figure in! purple satin trousers and green i jacket. And at the late afternoon performance—4 o’clock—he was there again, his fine, cruel, humorous Don’t Squeeze Blackheads —Dissolve Them Squeezing out blackheads makes large, ] ugly pores. The safe and sane way to j get rid of these blemishes is to dissolve them. (Jet two ounces of ('alonite powder from your drug store, sprinkle a little on a hot. wet doth, rub over the blackheads, and every one, big or little, will disappear at once.—Advertisement. Have Your Glasses Charged!

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mouth smiling at his own folly. She thought of appealing to Gus, the barker, to forbid him admission to the tent, but she knew Gus was too good a business man to heed such a wasteful request. Besides, the barker seemed to like him, or at least to like immensely the bill which invariably passed hands when the showman and the glorified "rube” met. Then suddenly, at ten minutes after four, the New Yoiker ceased to have any significance at all to her, at least for the moment. He was

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