Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 188, Indianapolis, Marion County, 27 December 1928 — Page 11

DEC. 27, 1928.

OQSieJtorif of a Modern Moon Goddess r ~7sy'C*teanvr n CHID fat

CHAPTER XVll—(Continued) Ashtoreth turned on her heel. “You’re the rudest person I ever knew I” she told him. “And you,” he retorted, “you're a gold-digger!” nun SHE left him standing there and went to join Mona. But their deck chairs were empty, and Mona’s book, with a box of chocolates, lay on her steamer rug. Ashtoreth threw herself down. She was furiously angry with Jack Smythe. He wa? the most preposterous person, she assured herself, that she had ever known How could he think such utterly unspeakable things of her. She fondled Mona’s jade tenderly. It was cold as ice in her hands. She knew that real jade is always cold, and she thought, fantastically, that if she had millions and millions of dollars she would live in the tropics, where it was always warm. And she would have jade to keep her cool. A couch, like Cleopatra’s, to sleep on. And jade things all about, to put her warm hands on. Medal 'ions to wear on her breast. Andi bracelets to reach from her wrists j ,o her shoulders. ... Oh! wouldn’t it be wonderful to be rich! And have just everything you wanted! The thought of Sadie. Trivial, inconsequential little Sadie. Sadie had everything she wanted—or almost everything. Sadie was awfully generous, too. She had, for instance, given Ash-tox-eth a perfectly marvelous negligee, and a nightgown, and those darling little mules. And then -she had loaned her that stunning camel’s hair coat, and the suede hat to match. Ashtoreth’s face grew suddenly hot. She held Mona’s jade to her cheeks to cool them. And all the time she was thinking, “Jack Smythe told the truth! I’m like the old woman he said. I sell my friendship . . . Sadie. And Mona. I’ve taken everything they’ve given me—both of them. I’ve given nothing in return. . . . And in my heart I despise them both. Why, I’m just as bad as he said!” Retrospection may be salutary. But Ashtoreth seldom found it pleasant. Dismissing the hateful motion, she picked up Mona’s book. There was something on the fly leaf in Mona’s writing. She wrote a broad, untidy hand, and Ashto- \ reth recognized it immediately. A j bit of doggerel. A whimsical little thing. It sounded exactly like Mona. This was it: "Talk to me tenderly, tell me lies; X am a woman, and time flies. I am a woman, and out of the door Beauty goes to come no more. Talk to me tenderly, take my hand; I am a woman, an c. understand. I am a woman, and must be told Lies to warm me when I am old." 8 8 8 \ SHTORETH smiled. She wonl\. dered how old Mona was. And j if she really felt that way. Twentyeight, perhaps. Or 30. It must be awful to know that you were gi-ow- ) iixg old. .Everybody was, of course, j But 30—why, that was sort of get- . ting middle-aged. Mazie always j said if a girl wasn’t married by the ■ time she was 30 she never would ; be. Well, probably Mona didn’t want to get married, anyhow. Why should she? She had everything in the world . . . And love, besides ... if lack Smythe—and all the wretched xld cats —knew what they were talking about. Ashtoreth turned the pages of Mona’s book. Swinburne. She tried to remember what sort of a poet he was supposed to be. Was it Swinburne and Keats that everybody thought about together? Or was it Shelley and Keats? “Some day,” vowed Ashtoreth, “I’m going to read a lot of poetry, and the biographies of all the great poets. One really should.” She had heard something about Swinburne. But she simply couldn’t place him. That was too bad. She’d have liked to say something casually about him, to sort of impress Mona. You wouldn’t think now that Mona was the sort of girl who’d read poetry. Well, you couldn’t ever tell. Ashtoreth turned the pages. Here was something penciled. Something probably that Mona liked. She read it slowly: • *j*!*ri

THENEW Saint-Sinner

jSx/TimeJJustin C&H&iy ff&SOKKXMC.

Three o’clock. Alan Beardsley' left his post at the window and a gray-faced, frightened Bob Hatha(way took his place. ' Pour o’clock. Cherry was asleep, her childish-looking body curled ■ against Alan Beardsley's side, his arm apologetically holding her close. “I’ll try not to wake her,” the older man whispered as Bob beckoned him to take Ips place at the window. “The poor darling! Look how white her face is! She must have been very fond of Crystal. Tony sprang to her feet from the big chair in which she had been frying, for half an hour, to read a tew novel. “She wasn’t fond of Crystal! No one was, but Faith and sj&ne!'‘ Five o’clock. Bob, who had been n dozing on the couch, with his chestu nut head in Faith’s lap, roused himself guiltily as Alan Beardsley called the hour. He rose, stretched, then went very pale as he took in the words. “Five o’clock. And no sign of their damned ‘messenger’ yet! They don’t seem to be in a hurry to pick up their five thousand! Listen! What’s that?’’ “The milkman's truck,” Faith enlightened him. her white lips tryto smile. “It’s a noise I’m quite HHamiliar with, owing to Robin’s to greet the dawn. go see how he is now . . . look like that, Bob, please! done all you can ... If ■i’d notified the police and scared off, you’d have something with to reproach yourself.” isn’t daylight yet,” Tony re-

"From too much love of living. From hope and fear set free, We thank with brief thanksgiving Whatever gods may be. That no man lives forever. That dead men rise up never; That even the weariest river Winds somewhere safe to sea." Ashtoreth closed the book, and shivered. . . . “From too much love of living. . . .” St. Thomas, the first of the Virgin Islands, lay ahead. Its feet in the sea. And mists hanging over its mountains. The passengers were flocking to the rail. Where was Mona? CHAPTER XVIII MONA, when she came on deck, had changed her white dress for a complete outfit of green. She had dressed, as usual, with complete disregard of the conventions. There were large single pearls in her ears, and a triple string of them about her throat. She sank gracefully in her deck chair, and crossed her slim ankles. Mona seldom wore stockings. Her legs were brown and very slender. She smiled luminously at Ashtoreth, and, leaning forward, kissed her swiftly. “I have seen Meester Smythe,” she said, “and he told me what he had already told you. He say, also” —Mona wrinkled her brows perplexedly—“Oh, yes—he say you are my trumpery little triumph. But, ma cherie, that is not so. “He tell me I flaunt you in the faces of the fat ladies. That I have embarrassed you, because now they will not speak to you when I go to Guadeloupe. And you will be all alone.” Ashtoreth laid her hands on Mona’s knees. “I am sorry,” she said, “that he distressed you, because, honestly, Mona, I don’t give a dam about these woman. I like you heaps better. “I’m sorry you’re leaving at Guadeloupe, because it’s been lovely having you for a roommate. Mona dear—truly—if all these cats came crawling on their knees, I wouldn’t speak to them. I shan’t mind a bitbeing alone.” A suspicion of tears dimmed Mona's eyes. She jumped quickly to her feet. “Then,” she cried, “we shall gc ashore together. There is a Chinese shop here, and I shall buy my little friend a Mandarin’s coat, because she is a good girl, and I love her. And a little trinket of jade, for good luck. Then you may say, ‘I knew Mona de Musset, and she brought me good luck.’ ” She was excited as a child. “Come quickly.” she begged, “and you shall wear a dress to give the fat ladies pains. One I have not ever worn. It was made for you, ma cherie.” a a 8 THAT evening Mona stayed ashore. Ashtoreth had dinner brought on deck. And there Jack Smythe joined her. “I hope you’re not angry with pie,” he began. “But I am,” Ashtoreth told him. He took the chair by her side, and began, leisurely, to fill his pipe. “That’s too bad,” he remarked, “because I’ve only one more night on board. And you know you haven’t kissed me yet.” “Kissed you!” she cried. “Why. I wouldn’t kiss you if you were the last man on earth.” He lit his pipe before replying. “Oh yes, you would,” he assured her. “Mona won’t be bac ktill late. She has lots of friends in port. She didn’t ask you to stay ashore with her, I notice.” “She did. tco!” lied Ashtoreth. Smythe looked at her sharply. “I don’t believe it,” he retorted. “But that’s all right. You can’t blame the girl. It makes it very much nicer for us, besides. I’ll have you all to myself now, up on the top deck. The moon is absolutely full tonight, and the sky will be simply brimming over with stars. A perfect night for romance.” Ashtoreth poured another oup of tea, and dropped a slice of lime in it. She weuld be just as casual about it as he was. “A pei-fect night,” she agreed. “But not for yau and me. Don’t you know I don’t like you?” “Well, I noticed that I hadn’t exactly slain you,” he admitted. “But you couldn’t help loving me a little tonight—the moon, you know, and the stars. The tropics begin to get in your blood. This sultry cli-

minded them, sharply. “Maybe the crook waited until the last possible minute, counting on our being asleep through sheer exhaustion. “I haven’t given up hope—yet.” But she began to sob, violently, and made a vehement gesture of refusal as Alan Beards-ley tried to press a cup of coffee upon her. But at 5:30 it was so light—a gray, leaden sort of light, as if the sky grieved for Crystal Hathaway—that not even Tony could hope any longer that the “messenger” would come for the $5,000 ransom, still on the sidewalk in the garbage can. Alan Beardsleye had reararranged Cherry’s limp, sleeping body without awakening her, so that now she lay with her head on a small cushion on his knees. Occasionally, as both Faith and Tony noted apathetically, but filing the observation for future reference, his wellkept, long fingers touched one of her red-and-gold curls—tenderly, almost possessively. Tony wondered what big, blonde, Viking-like Nils Jonson, Cherry’s husband, would say and do if he could stride into the room just then. Tony sprang to her feet again, her face as white as a magnolia blossom, her blue-diamond eyes made bigger and brighter than ever by the violet shadows beneath them. “Oh, I can’t stand this any longer! I want Sandy!” “Well, here he is—on foot,” Bob called from the window. “He‘s getting the ransom money out of the garbage can.” (To Be Continued.)! 4

mate, don’t you know, is awfully conducive to love.” Ashtoreth dimpled. “Yes,” she said, “I suppose li must be. I hope I meet somebody nice before the trip's over. It’s jusi too bad you’re the only mar around.” . He laughed good naturedly. “We’ll have a dance after* dinner,” he proposed. “And then when it gets a little dark, we’ll leave their old orchestra flat. We ll go up and talk to the stars.” 8 8 8 MONA had not returned, and Ashtoreth was bored. At 8 o’clock Jack knocked on her stateroom door. And she greeted him in a swirl of chiffon, pink as the heart of a rose. Mona had insisted it did not suit her, and was a little-tight besides. It was perfect on Ashtoreth. “You’re gorgeous.” Jack told her. “I told you you were beautiful.” “It’s Mona’s,” she informed him pertly. “The dress, I mean. It's so flattering, any one would look pretty in it. The beads are hers, too, and the earrings. I wish I could wear her shoes, bu*. they’re just a little too big for me.” “Gold digger,” Ixz retorted. “You’re icorrigible—and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.” “I'll go up on deck with you,” she countered, “because it's altogether too wonderful to miss. But I won’t let you kiss me.” “You won’t!” he cried. “Have you seen the moon?” “I saw it rise,” she said, “like a little white ghost,.” Jack came closer. “You haven’t seen a thing.” he said. “And you simply don’t know what you're talking about. It’s incredible that a girl should want to sit on deck —under a million stars —and not be kissed. “It’s just a bawdy myth—that’s all it is. Now see here. Ashtoreth. you're gofng to get kisseed tonight. You are. I mean, if you come up on deck with me. If you don’t like the notion, you might just as well stay down here and go to bed.” “What!" she gasped. He came in the A>om then, and put his hands on her shoulders. “You heard me,” he told her. “Oh. well!” Ashtoreth gathered up a vxap of Mona's. . . “If you feel that way about it!” she said. She put the thing about her. “Come on. then!” He'd talk to her like that, would he! Who did he think he was? And who did he think she was? She'd show him! Just because he thought he looked li kethe prince of Wales! Maybe now, with Sadie ~, or Mona, even. . . . . “Come on!” she cried. “What are you waiting for?” “One little kiss,” he told her. “For a sample, you know.”

ALL right. He could have it. Just one, though. One, to show him how very wonderful it would be to have some more. She’d punish him! Then, without putting his arms about her, he bent and kissed her on the lips. Most boys tried to hug a girl. Jack hadn’t touched her. "Like that?” he asked. . . And she shook her head, dumbly. “It will be a ship scandal if we stay here,” he informed her. “By the way, did Mona send any message aboard?” "No,” Ashtoreth told him. "She’s with friends, you know. She won’t be back until quite late. She thinks they may know something about her people at Guadeloupe . . . her old nurse. Mona hasn’t heard since the hurricane.” She says the poor woman was probably killed. She lived all alone in a little house up in the mountains. Mona gets awfully upset whenever she talks about it. She’s so good-hearted, you know. Imagine she loved that old nurse tremendous.” Smythe shrugged. "Mona does,” he said, "love tremendously. Just between you and me, though, I imagine she wouldn’t be exactly stricken If the poor old nurse had gone the way of all flesh. Not,” he added hastily, “that I’ve any particular reason for thinking so. Only I should think it would be natural enough, shouldn’t you? After all, they couldn’t have had much in common.” "Why, I know she’d be simply heart-broken,” declared Ashtoreth. "She cried all night long last night —just worrying.” a it it THEY had reached the smoking room. “What do you say if we have one little drink?” proposed Jack. "Just one.”

Ashtoreth felt reckless. “All right,” she agreed. “I’ll break a rule. I’ll have a cocktail with a cherry in it—no, I won’t— I’l have an olive!” “Whisky and soda,” he ordered, “and a martini.” While they waited to be served, he considered Ashtoreth indulgently. “You don’t ever drink, do you?” he asked. “Such a funny way to order! It’s strange, too—you know I thought all American girls drank like fish.” “I told you I didn't,” she reminded him. “I know—but I don’t believe all I’m told,” he retorted. “Why don’t you tell me now that you weren’t ever kissed under a moon before?” Ashtoreth smiled. “Because that wouldn’t be true,” she confessed. It was only last month that Monty English had kissed her beneath a full moon. Sometimes Monty said the prettiest things. That night he had quoted a little bit of poetry. Thomas Moore, he said, had written it.

And Ashtoreth had looked it up later. “Fly Not Yet” was the name, and Monty had said that Moore was the loveliest Irish poet that ever lived. Now she repeated it unblushingly to Jack. Girls can do the strangest things! " ‘Fly not yet; ’tis jus the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light. Begins to bloom for sons of night Ana maids who love the moon.’ ” “Beautiful!” acclaimed Jack, when she had finished. “And now, ‘little maid who loves the moon,’ empty your glass. Time flies!” .(To Be Continued

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND TITS FRTENDS

'OSSIE'S SOT HIS | If l SURE- GET IN, AIRPLANE OUT= ) ) FRECLL&S JUST WIH.SET J

WASHINGTON TUBBS 11

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MON ’N POP

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THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

One of the great figures of early Antarctic discovery iwas Sir James Clark Ross. In 1839 the British Ad-. ’ r 1 miralty sent him to find the South Magnetic Pole. With’ > . 'his two little ships, the Erebus and the Terror"he - H . e ™ a . battled with unknown tides, desperate winds, huge ice,'. thousand* floes and bergs. Land stopped him at what we now call Cape Adare. * *?•""*

OUT OUR WAY

By Ahern

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I After a Erebus and.Terror reached England. Ross’ old friend,’ Tne Ross Sea, the sir John Franklin, then took the ships for one of the Great Ice Barrier and the most tragjd.of all jjofar voyages. Franklin and all his .volcanoes Mount Erebus men lost their lives fighting their way in the terrible.' and Mount Terror, also| Northwest Passage.' (To Be Continued) his diecovejwtw. 't* ~n,r>y

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BKAUCTIEB

PAGE 11

—By Wiiiiama

—i>v MariiU

By Blosfier

t’y Cr ]'

By Small

By Cowan