Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 114, Indianapolis, Marion County, 2 October 1928 — Page 11

OCT. 2, 1928.

CHAPTER XXXIII (Continued) “Craig may be nothing but a compromise to you. But, there are suffering sisters who’d give their eyeteeth for a worse bargain. And Craig won’t go begging long. You can bet your bottom dollar on that. Personally, I think you don’t deserve him. I’ve wasted my last bit of sympathy on YOU. "A ‘phantom in khaki,’ is it! You’re an antiquated Laura Jean Libby model—that’s what you are! ‘Dandruff on his shoulders’! Dear Lord, has the girl gone crazy? “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’xa late anyhow. I had an appointment with a real estate agent at four. Pretty gold hair, baby blue eyes. You’d like him. Heaven’s little gift to women.” - a AT the elevator they met Dolly Weston. A breathless Dolly, with a dash of carelss rouge on either cheek. , “Sybil!” she cried. “Oh, how do you do, Mrs. Moore!” Dolly was always garrulous. “My dear, I'm glad I found you! I’m simply worried to death. Mrs. Thorne said you might be here—l just phoned her. Then I grabbed a taxi and simply flew down. I’m a perfect wreck!” Dolly cast a backward glance into the mirror. “My goodness!” she squealed. “I didn’t even powder my nose!” t And then suddenly serious with the import of her errand “It’s about Valerie Sybil. Something dreadful. I simply hate to tell you my dear.' I’m absolutely all broken up about it.” CHAPTER XXXIV “T’LL rim along,” offered Mabel A tactfully. “I really mustn't keep that man waiting. Valerie isn’t sick is she, Mrs. Weston?” “Oh, no—it’s not that.” Dolly floundered. “It’s much worse than being sick.” “What is it, Dolly?” asked Sybil. “Don’t mind Mab.” "Oh, it’s perfectly dreadful! My dear, you could have knocked me over with a featehr. I’m ’.nply stricken. I’ll never,get over it as long as I live.” “Dolly! What is it?” "Look!” Mrs. Weston delved into a pocket of her big coon coat, and extended a letv: triumphantly. Her eyes were sparkling, and her color burned high “I was on my way to Dot Faxon’s bridge this afternoon, when ’ this came. The letter carrier arrived just as I was leaving. And when I opened it My dear! I’m speechless.” The handwriting was Valerie’s, and the post mark, New Haven. , “She’s been visiting the Ramseys,” explained Dolly, in an aside to Mabel. Sybil was reading the letter sii ently. I “Well?” she queried, and slipping I he pages into the envelope, handed r lem back to Dolly. % Mrs. Weston flushed angrily. “Well!” she retorted. “Anybody’d ink you didn’t care.” fl don’t believe I do.” a tt a SYBIL’S voice was even. “Valerie, you see, has such a | flair for the dramatic. It would really be a shame to spoil her act. I believe, if you don’t mind, I’ll wire her congratulations, and tell her to run right along.” Dolly collapsed on the umbrella stand. “Well, of all the hardboiled women!” She turned appealing to Mabel. “Did you ever hear of such a thing in all your life?” Mabel was blandly indifferent. “I don’t know. What’s it all about?” Mrs. Weston shrugged. They were too much for her—Valerie enigmatic sister-in-law and this blase social worker. “You’re perfect idiots!” she told them shrilly. With infuriating calm Mabel patted her on the back. “Don’t get excited, Mrs. Westton,” she admonished in her best professional manner. "What’s the dirt, Sib?” “Oh, Val has found herself a lover. And she's written Dolly that she’s going to elope with him.” “And I come and tell you, because I thing I ought—and you treat me like a burglar!” Hysterically Dolly turned on them. “As Valerie’s best friend I come to you—to ask you to save her from herself. You —her husband’s sister! You . . . You . . .” Dolly’s emotional vocabulary was inadequate. “Haven’t you any heart?” she demanded. “Haven’t you any pride? If you dont’ care about Valerie, think of Tad.” “I am,” interrupted Sybil dryly. “Think of your mother! And the newspapers! And the scandal!” D6lly warmed to her subject. “You could knock me over with a feather. I’m simply stricken. I’ll never get over it. Poor Val—she’s in with a fast crowd. That gang from New Haven. “You knew it. Everybody does. It’s Tad’s fault, anyway. What can a man expect when he doesn’t pay attention to a girl? You know how it is, yourself.” n a a SHE was ccncilitary now. “I always say we women ought to stick together. You may be sore with Val, and all that. But you can’t let her do this, Sib. If she and Tad can’t hit it off, let them get a divorce. There’s nothing wrong about that. But if Val elopes with this man, she might as well cut off her right hand. "I know Val. She’s a great little excitement eater, but she couldn’t get along without people around—lots of them. She’s no one-man model—not by a long shot. Social ostracism would hurt her worse than amputation. \ “I tell you, Sib, it would be suicidal for Val to do this thing. She’d be eating her heart out in a month. You know how people would turn their backs on her she wouldn’t have a friend left. And that would kill Val. I know it would.” “Well,” Sybil was grim. “That would help.” “Oh, Sib,” Mabel interrupted sagely, “after all, Val and Tad are about as compatible as a stray dog and an alley cat. You can’t blame the poor little fool for clutching

happiness. We all do that—according to our lights. And Val hasn’t many lights—that’s all.” “I’m not blaming her, am I?” interrupted Sybil hotly. “Let her go ahead. Live her own life—work out her own salvation. Im not. stopping her. Tad will be a darn sight better off.” “How about your mother?" “She’ll have to face it—that’s all.” "But you haven’t any right to make Tad’s decisions for him. He wouldnt want to lose Valerie this way. it’s an awful blow to a man’s pride to have his wife walk out on him, and off with another man. “Don’t you worry about Tad.” “But, Sib, I’m thinking about you. You dont want this disgraceful thing to happen. It involves every one in your family.” “I suppose you think the family’s been disgraced enough as it is?” “Now, darling, you know I meant nothing of the sort. Be reasonable. What did Val say?” “Oh, it's an inspiring effusion. She loves the ground he walks on. She wants Dolly to get her watch at Bigelow’s. She left it there to be repaired. And her pearls. They are

Byjtom&/lustJn fnMMWBK

“I—l want to apologize, Miss Hathaway,” Crystal heard Dick Talbot say stiffly and formally, his face flushed very darkly in the moonlight, one cheek a little redder than the other—the cheek which she had slapped. He had been calling her Crystal., with insolent, negligent familiarity and now—it was “Miss Hathaway.” Crystal’s trembling hands were raising Harry Blaine’s handkerchief to her eyes, which were brimming again, when a sudden, poignantly sweet thought stayed with them. He was calling her “Miss Hathaway” because, for the first time since he had met her, he respected her! And he respected her because she’d slapped him! Crystal wanted to laugh, the hysterical laugh that is twin sister to a sob. What would he think of her if he knew that she had slapped him, not for kissing her, but foxmaking a pretense of kissing her. with his eyes upon Tony Tarver, because he wanted to make Tony jealous? Dick Talbot had been saying other things which Crystal had only half heard. She put her hand to her throat, without consciously reflecting that it was a charming gesture and listened now: "... I can’t hope that you'll forgive me, Crys—Miss Hathaway but I hope you’ll try. I—l was a cad, and I’m sorry. If you’ll accept my apology and—and—be friends—” His voice trailed off with odd humility. Crystal glanced at Tony, received a slight nod of encouragement, then thrust out her right hand impulsively, making a prettier gesture than she could have perfected if she had practiced it for hours before

The Jackson steam roller is described In this chapter of the Presidential Parade series, which reviews politics and statesmanship connected with the presidency from Washington’s day to our own. BY RODNEY DUTCHER NEA Service Writer

(Copyright, 1928, by NEA Service. Inc.! ASHINGTON, Oct. 2.—ln 1836 it was considered smart politics to nominate several sectional candidates for election so that the election might be thrown into the House, which would have rejected Martin Van Buren. It was smart, but it didn’t quite work. This was the battle of the succession. President Andrew Jackson, refusing a third term he might have had, demanded and barely won the election of his dear friend and master politician, Van Buren, over the Whig candidacies of Gen. William Henry Harrison of Ohio, Senator Hugh White of Tennessee and Senator Daniel Webster of Massachusetts.

1834. It contained Adams and Clay Republicans with a sprinkling of The Whig party had been formed, under Henry Clay’s leadership, in Southern nulliflers, States’ righters and anti-Masons. Jackson had wrecked the national bank, Clay’s pet issue of 1832, by withdrawing Government deposits. He had a majority in the House, but a minority in the Senate, where he was publicly condemned by resolution. His enemies called him a demagogue, but he was a demi-god to the people.

Strong opposition to Van Buren arose. In Jackson’s own Tennessee, the Legislature almost unanimously presented Judge White to succeed him, though Jackson had sent a bale of hot anti-White literature to it under his own White House frank. Alabama followed Tennessee. Wife Spurs White Jackson and White had been warm friends, but Whig strategists had planted seeds of ambition in the heart of his second wife, a boarding-house lady, who spurred White into the race. Jackson hastily called a national convention to be “fresh from the people.” It met in Baltimore and 422 of its 626 delegates, mostly office-holders, were from Maryland, Virginia, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. The two-thirds rule was at first dumped overboard, 231 to 210, but was reconsidered next morning and adopted again. A rule was adopted barring all speeches at the convention, it was explained, "to prevent” any violent, angry and unnecessary discussion. Denounce Convention Van Buren was nominated unanimously and the Jackson steam roller then nominated Col. Richard M. Johnson for vice president over W. C. Rivers of Virginia. Pennsylvania Anti-Masons nominated Harrison, with Francis Granger of New York for vice president. Massachusetts Whigs nominated

being restrung somewhere. “She says he’s like a Viking king, and rolling in money. They’re going to Hollywood. And Tad’s nothing but a mama’s baby boy, and a grouchy old thing. “Dari has a friend—she calls him ‘Dari’—don’t you love it?—who knows a man in the movies, who says she’d screen just wonderfully. And she wonders if Dolly could get some of her clothes from the house. That’s about all, wasn’t it, Dolly?” “But does she say when she's planning to go away?” “She’s going to wait for a wire from uolly. I suppose sr.e s worried about the pearls'—she tells some yarn about them that sounds like a hysterical press agent raving about the crown jewels.” a a a Suddenly Sybil turned on Dolly. “See here, Dolly, how long have you been in on this? How long has Val been making a fool of Tad? Who’s this Dari, anyhow?” “Honest, Sybil, I don’t know any more about it than you do. I never met the man. I don’t even know his name. If I ever heard it, I’ve forgotten. (To Be Continued)

her mirror. For the gesture was frank and genuine. “It’s all right, Dick. I’d like to be friends,’ Crystal said simply. “Then that’s that,” Tony cut in brickly. “You’re to spend the night with me, Crystal. I want to give you a double dose of aspirin, a hot mustard footbath, and other reliable remedies dear to Myrtle Street. “It’s not every night my girl friend nearly drowns and gives me a swell chance to show off as a nurse, and I’m going to make the most of It.” “Tony—please!” Dick cried huskily. “Just a minute—” "I’ve got to put Crystal to bed.” Tony denied him implacably. “I’m not mad at you any more, if that’s what you want to know—” "I’ll carry Crystal into the house, if you’ll Jve me your latchkey,” Harry Blaine offered surprisingly. “The house is dark. I suppose your parents are out?” “Bridging, the poor lambs,” Tony admitted. “They’re so bad at it that I often wonder why they torture themselves.” Crystal, being helped from the roadster by Harry Blaine, was amazed to see that Tony was hesitating, as if drawn irresistibly by the magnet that was Dick Talbot, “I think you ought to hear what Dick has to say, ‘Tony,” she suggested —and forever renounced Richard Warrington Talbot. Not that she’d ever had him, but it was bitter-sweet to renounce the very hope of him, on this surge of love for Tony Tarver. “We-e-ell,” Tony reluctantly conceded, as she fished in her tiny evening handbag for her latchkey. “I’ll be there in just a minute.” (To Be Continued)

Webster, also accepting Granger as his running mate. John Tyler of Virginia went on the ticket with Judge White. Congressman Davy Crockett, the frontier hero, wrote a scurrilous biography of Van Buren. “He struts and swaggers like a crow in a gutter,” Crockett said. “He is laced up in corsets such as women in town wear and if possible tighter than the best of them. . . . It’s difficult to tell from his personal appearance whether he is a man or a woman.” Van Buren Barely Wins The platforms were meaningless and the only issue was opposition to Jackson and Crown Prince Van Buren. Nominations having been made in 1835, the campaign was waged mostly in Congress early in 1836. Early State contests scared the Democrats, but they hastened to retrieve themselves. They came through with a greatly reduced majority, proving that Jackson couldn’t transfer his landslides. Twenty-six States voted. A switch of 2,200 votes to Harrison in Pennsylvania would have thrown the election into the House as the enemy had planned. Harrison won seven States, Ohio and Kentucky the largest; White, Tennessee and Georgia, and Webster Massachusetts. The count was: Popular Electoral Van Buren 7 3,000 170 Whig* 736,000 113 NEX TANARUS: The Wildest Campaign in Ameri< ' n History.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUT OUR WAY

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FKKGKLES AND IDS FRIENDS

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THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

Roosevelt’s activity as Secretary of the Navy did much to prepare our sea forces for the war with Spain which he believed was coming. As it drew nearer he resigned from the Navy Department and became lieutenant colonel of the First Volunteer Cavalry, soon nicknamed ‘‘the Rough Riders.” With him were men who could ride and shoot, cowboys, ranchers and hunters. lO ' J By NEA. Through Special Permission of tho Publishers ol The Book of Knowledge. Copyright. 192)-?*-

—By Williams

One of Roosevelt’s close friends and a colonel with him was the late General Leonard Wood, who was to become Cuba’s idol and savior.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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Roosevelt's Rough Riders saw some sharp fighting in Cuba. The reputation “Teddy” won during the war led to his nomination for governor of New York in 1898.>0-y

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRAIICIIER

soon :tM party leaders in his state who determined to nominate him for vice president in 1900. He was too popular to drop, they reasoned, but in the vice presidency he would be “out t?f the way.” Rather against his will Governor Roosevelt “ vice president, and on the death of President fe£ai>y in 1901 became president. (To Be Continued )io-1l f

PAGE 11

By Ahern

—By Martin

Bv Blosser

By Crane

By Small

By Cowan