Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 178, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 December 1928 — Page 11

DEC. 15, 1928

OQhe Jtorif of a Modern Moon Goddess r ~Q'lfC > 'teaTwr RCHID mk.

THIS HAS HAPPENED ASHTORETH ASHE, beautiful stenographer, appears to have made a decided impression upon HOLLIS HART, her wealthy employer, when in breezes little SADDIE MORTON, known to Mr. Hart as. MAE DE MARR. Sadie, frivolous and twadry, has ac cepted ar. extraordinary gift of SIO,OOO from the rather quixotic millionaire. He is astonished when he discovers that she and Ashtoreth are old friends. And Ashtoreth is afraid that he will be no longer interested in her. She goes with Sadie to the grand apartment rented and furnished through V.e benevolence of Mr. Hart. And there Yadle airs a gold-digger’s view on men and morals. Ashtoreth secures from her partial promise that she will not attempt to blackmial ner benefactor and veiurn to the office, greatly relieved. Perhaps, after all, she will remain in the good graces of the famous Mr. Hart. At the end of the day she goes home In great good humor, bearing gifts to MAIZE, her good-hearted and rather commonplace mother. Maizie tells her that MONTY ENGLISH is coming to call. Ashtoreth throws up her hands. ‘‘You’re just naturally bound to marry of Mrs. Ashe’s daughter, aren’t you, Ma?” she teases. But beneath her banter tjiere is a shade of annoyance. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

CHAPTER VIII AT 8 o’clock Monty English arrived. “Gauche,” Ashtoreth called him. Maizie was not at all sure what that meant. But Monte, to her way of thinking, was a fine, upstanding young man. He was young and tall and blond. “Nordic,” Ashtoreth said. But then Maizie wasn’t sure about that either. His hair was crisp. Bleached by the sun on top and sort of coppery down near the roots. He had brown eyes with flecks in them, and a big, good-humored mouth. When he smiled it began with a crinkle at the corners of his eyes and ended in a quirk at the corners of his mouth. And he had extraordinarily good-looking teeth. White as snow, or clouds, or a clean white shroud. So white they really shone. Monty English sold radios and played a ukelele. He danced like a professional, or a dream come true. And he made love the way every girl wonders why men don’t. It was strange, then, that he did not register with Ashtoreth. Maybe he talked too much about radios. And radios bored Ashtoreth. She wondered why he never discovered it. He brought a box of glace fruits for Mazie. When Mazie expressed a preference, Monty never forget. “You girls want to go to the movies?” he invited. But Mazie protested coyly,” Oh, you young folks want to talk.” .At 9 o’clock she made toast in the gas oven and cooked cheese With eggs and tomato, in the chafing dish. Then she made coffee and cut huge pieces of fudge cake known as Wellesley. At 10 she had a headache and went to bed, with sly backward glances and playful admonitions. tt tt a “ A SH,” said Monty English, when Maizie had closed her bedroom door, “we’ve known each other for three years now. That’s a long time for a man to adore a girl who doesn’t know he’s living.” Ashtoreth began, absently, to gather the coffee cups. “Oh, please, Monty!” she protested. “Put that stuff down,” he ordered, “and listen.” “But we’ve been over it so often!” she objected. •No, we haven’t,” he told her. “This is something new, Ash. I’m just through being a doormat—that’s all. I'm signing off tonight, Mttle girl. John Sap speaking. Signing off for good and all.” He spoke lightly, but there was an air of finality in the things he said. So that Ashtoreth felt a queer little tightening around her heart. Dear old Monty! Why, he was almost as inevitable as Maizie. Not that she loved him. But she was so used to him! And he "/as such fun—when he wasn’t trying to make love. They.danced very well together. And she had grown to depend upon

THE NEW Saint'SiraiGr ByJlnneJlustin •1928 4yN£fcsama.wc

The next morning, after four almost sleepless hours, Bob Hathaway sketched his plans for attempting to trace his missing cousin, Crystal. Faith and Tony, who had spent Vfhat remained of the night in Crystal’s room, faced him with feigned hopefulness. Faith’s eyes were shadowed by sleeplessness and tears, but Tony was too vital to show physical evidences of her very real distress. -“Now this is what I’ve decided to do,” Bob began. “I’m going to check up on the railroad stations first, then I’m going to telephone to every county clerk Within a, radius of a hundred miles, to see if a manage license has been issued to Crystal Hathaway and Pablo Mendoza. ■ “I don’t know which will hurt worst—finding that they are or ;aren’t married. Alan Beardsley’s coming over from his hotel to help me with the telephoning while I interview the station masters and Jacket sellers. I don’t want you to have to do it, honey,” he added to Raith. “You won’t mind if I tell Sandy Ross, pry aviator friend, all about it, will you, Bob?” Tony asked forlornly. “I always tell Sandy everything. And he’s got more brains in one bump on his cranium* than any other man I know has in his whole skull —begging your pardon, Bob.” > “All right,” Bob grinned. “Maybe his plane will come in handy, if we find that Crystal and this Pablo Jest together and didn’t bother to get married first. • “Sandy Ross could hop off and catch the train before it reached its destination, which, more than likely, would Mexico.” ** w’ent so white at that that Jjony quickly refilled her cup with eeffee and made her drink it. Then: “Bob, I think Sandy and I ought to go out to Grayson’s farm and check tip on the foreman’s story. I’d like {ia know just what those farm hands

Marty for an occasinoal evening at the theater or the movies. In the summertime they went riding every night—or almost every night. Maizie usually went along, too. If she didn’t, Monty always wanted to park somewhere. They went often to roadhouses, and patronized all the lobster shacks along the shore. The previous winter they had taken an evening course together at Harvard, and another at Boston Uniand the Classics. It was fun talking to Monty, too. He had such a humorous way of looking at things. Cynical, of course. But that was such a relief after Maizie’s Pollyanna philosophy. Why, she’d miss him fearfully! “Could it be,” he was demanding plaintively, “when I was young, someone dropped me on my head? What’s the matter with me, Ash? You can’t see me at all, can you?” “There’s nothing the matter with you, Monty,” she assured him. “I —I just don’t love you.” • “That’s the answer!” he triumphed. “If I was all right, I could make you love me, Ash.” He ground a cigaret in Maizie’s begonia pot. “I love you so dam’ much,” he complained, “that it seems like you’d have to love me just a little. Only things don’t work out that way.” He came then and stood in front of her and laughed a little, whimsically. “Have you any specifications in mind?” he asked- “Maybe if I knew just what it is goes best I’d get myself made over, darlin’. tt tt tt A SHTORETH smiled. “Light of my life,” she said, it’s mighty things I want.” “What,” he begged. “Oh, a nice little place on the Riviera,” she parried. And a diamond tiara—what is a tiara, Monty? And a Rolls-Royce, maybe. And a box at the opera and a house on the hill. And then just a few little fixtures—you know—maids and gowns, and jewels in a safe deposit vault, and paste for for every day.” Monty lit another cigaret. “You know,” he remarked evenly, “I think there's more truth than poetry in that, Ash. You wouldn’t let yourself love a radio salesman in a city full of rich guys, would you?” “Oh, I don’t know,” she laughed. “If he had a heart of gold I might. By the way—speaking of gold-dig-gers—l saw Sadie Morton today.” “Sadie Morton?” he repeated. “Oh, yes, I remember. The riproaring little ‘it’ girl. Simply bubbling over with animal spirits I suppose?” “No,” Ashtoreth told him. “She was quite subdued. She grabbed SIO,OOO a little while ago and she’s gone completely through it. Now she’s beginning to be worried.” Monty whistled. “Ten thousand berries! And the girl’s dumb as an oyster!” Ashtoreth was silent. “Well,” he said, “she must have been a great inspiration for you, Ash. Ten thousand dollars for a moron like Sadie! And then I got the nerve to ask you to tie up with a guy like me. A high-class model like you. If Sadie’s charms are worth ten thou on the hoof, yours are worth a million, sweetheart.” “Monty!” she cried. “You’re absolutely insulting.” “Maybe,” he acknowledged gracelessly. “But I’m through anyhow. And I know you’re not shedding any tears over that. There’s no sense, sweetheart, hanging around and scaring good bets off.” “Oh, Monty,” she cried, “you’re vulgar as Sadie! Don’t talk like that.” “I was only kidding,” he apologized, and added, hatefully, “There’s many a true word spoken in jest.” “Monty,” she commanded, “tell

claim to know about Pablo Mendoza’s American sweetheart.” “Good idea!” Bob approved. “And Faith, you hold the fort here. We may get a telegram from her any minute. “Cherry will be in to spend the day with you, if I know my beloved sister-in-law. She knows Beardley’s going to be here, too,” he added significantly. “Oh, I can’t bear to have anything else happen to this family,” Faith moaned. “Cherry has got to give Beardsley up. I thought when she married Nils Jonson I’d never have to worry about her any more—” “Cherry can never reform, except temporarily,” Bob interrupted. “She’s a born flirt and she'll flirt till she dies. But don’t jake Cherry’s affair with Alan Beardsley too seriously. “She’s really in love with Nils, and even if Cherry’s a vain little idiot, Beardsley’s nobody’s fool. . . . Well, I’m off! Try and get some rest* sweet. Let Beulah take care of Robin—give him his bath, feed him, and everything.” "Don’t talk silly, Bob!” Faith smiled at him wanly. “My only hope of getting through this day lies in devoting myself to Robin. You’ll telephone if you get any news at all—no matter whether it’s good or bad?’’ she pleaded. “Promise!” Bob kissed her. “You and Sandy Ross will report hereby telephone', too, Tony.” “Os course,” Tony replied. “I’m going to quiz the motormen and conductors of the interurban, too. “There is just a chance they saw Crystal and Pablo together, waiting for the interurban in that dingy little station near the Grayson’s, you know. “Lord! I’ll never forgive myself for not having wraneled a better time for her out of these Stanton boys that trail me around.” (To Be Continued.)

me the truth. You don’t think I’m a gold-digger? You couldn’t think that! Why, Monty, I simply abominate them Girls like Sadie —they make me sick!” tt tt tt SHE glanced nervously at the closed door of Maizie’s room and lowered her voice. “Listen, Monty—l wouldn’t talk this way to any one but you. You know how much I love mother. That’s why I couldn’t say this to any one else: They might think I didn’t, love her. “But —you know her, Monty. And you know how sweet and good, and self-sacrificing she is. That’s why I feel like a perfect snake, saying such a thing.” Monty stood up. “Don’t say it, then,” he advised. “Putting your mother on the pan doesn’t rate a thing with me, Ash.” Ashtoreth’s face turned scarlet. “You deliberately misunderstood me!” she flared angrily. “I simply worship the ground my mother walks on—and you know it! I was only going" to say ” “No, you weren’t,” cut in sharply. “You. weren’t going to say a thing. “I was merely remarking,” she insisted, “that, much as I adore my mother, I can't help realizing ’ Monty clapped his hand over her mouth. And then, folding her in the hollow of his arm, drew her head back and kissed her eyelids. She leaned against him and held his arms about her shoulders. "Don’t let’s quarrel,” she murmured. “You know,” he said irrelevantly, “you’ve the most beautiful eyelids in the world. Did you ever notice how few women have lovely eyelids? Yours are like a Madonna’s, Ashtoreth. So delicately white. Did you know they’ve little blue tendrils in them? Don’t ever cry, and spoil them, will you, sweetheart?” He kissed them again, very tenderly. But he did not touch her lips, even when she raised her mouth and pouted provocatively. “I’m going to New York,” he told her, holding her against him. “And it might as well be China. Because I’m not coming around any more, Ashtoreth. I’ll be selling from the home office, and traveling west, out of New York.” “A temporary transfer?” she asked. “No. I asked for it,” he told her. “I tell you, Ash, there’s no sense in my ruining all your prospects. I haven’t a Chinaman’s chance myself. “Not until I crash through and make a million. And since you can’t love me you might just as well love somebody else. Somebody who’ll make you happier maybe than I could ever make you—though God knows he wouldn’t try any harder. “But he’ll have to be a prince, Ash, or I’ll come back and finish him. I’m not stepping aside for any flat tire, little girl. “You pick him pretty now, or I’ll be doing tipie for manslaughter. Because I’m going to pop off any egg that isn’t what you might call worthy of being my successor. “No kidding. Ash. The best is none too good for you. I’ll tell the world, honey, that you can call your own. And don’t forget it.” a st tt "Jtif'ONTY lit another cigaret. ITJ. “with those few words,” he announced, “the hero withdraws.” But Ashtoreth. womanlike, could not dismiss, in a moment, a renunciation that dramatically might be prolonged. “You’ll write me,” she pleaded. “And I’ll be your very best friend —forever and forever. And if you get dreadfully lonely, you’ll come home again? It isn’t like saying goodby, Monty—not really, I mean.” But Monty shrugged his broad shoulders. “It strikes me,” he declared, “that Tosti and I sang our little swan songs in the same key” and, striking a tragedian’s attitude, proclaimed the immortal words of that sad farewell: “ ‘Good-by to hope! Good-by to pain! Good-by forever! Good-by!” He laughed shortly, embarrassed, perhaps, because the scene savored of heroics. He held her tightly and her hair caught on a button of his coat. “Good-by, little sweetheart.” His lips were close against her neck, so that his breath made little shivers ripple along her flesh. “I love you —love you!” But Ashtoreth, holding her head so that the hair did not pull, scarcely heard him. She was thinking of Hollis Hart. (To Be Continued) Thinking of Hollis Hart didn’t really do Ashtoreth much good. Read the next chapter and discover why. ASKS MERGER APPROVAL Decatur Telephone Company Plans Purchase of New Point Exchange. Decatur County Telephone Company, Greensburg, has petitioned the public service commission for permission to purchase the eighty-two-subscriber exchange, owned by Miss Mary E. Crosby at New Point. Miss Crosby petitioned to sell to the Decatur county -company for $1,500. The Decatur county company petition asks approval to raise the present business rate from $2 to $4.50 and residence rate from $1.50 to $3 for single lines, $1.25 to $2 for five-party service and $1.25 to $1.75 for ten-party lines. Slayer Enters “Death Row” Bn United Prvttn MICHIGAN CITY, Ind., Dec. 15. —Dreyfus Rhoades, sentenced to die in the electric chair at the Indiana state prison March 6, for the murder of Simon Carie, Vincennes policeman, is in “death row” here today, having been brought to the state prison from Evansville.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

Scrooge obeyed the strange voice, turned the knob and entered his own room. He was confronted by the second spirit that old Marley’s ghost had said would visit him that night—the Ghost of Christmas Present. Suddenly Scrooge's bleak room was transformed, with walls and ceiling hung with living green and berries. \ s ByJfEA, Through Special Permtsstow of the Punishers of The book of Unowfrdgt. Copyright. f9232y

By Ahern

v M> Heaped on the floor to form a kind of throne were turkeys, geese, mince pies, plum puddings, apples, chestnuts and seething bowls of punch.

OUT OUR WAY

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sasy state upon that throne sat the jolly giant of Christmas Present, holding a glowing torch not unlike Plenty’s Horn, sheddipg a warm

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BKAUCHEK

The jolly gho.t took shivering old Scrooge on the • wings of the wind through Christmas streets and showed him the home of poor Bob Cratchit, Scrooge’s clerk. With all their poverty, Cratchit and his family were beaming around the Christmas goose and steaming plum pudding that Mrs. Cratchit had saved for so long and cooked so carefully. (To Be Continued)

PAGE 11

—By Williams

—By Marta

By r?1o‘ >ior

Fy Crane

By Small

By Cowan