Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 194, Indianapolis, Marion County, 3 January 1929 — Page 11

JAK. 3, 1920.

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CHAPTER XXin— (Continued) (That was calculated to make Mr. Hart think that Maizie was quite casual about trans-Atlantic voyages, and all that sort of tiling —Maizie who’d never been any farther on a boat than Nantasket!) “And. as I said, she simply couldn't get away. So she dug uo a chaperon for me. And the very last minutes the woman came down with scarlet fever, or diphtheria, or something—after we’d made our reservations and everything. “Well, then mother wasn’t going to let me go—but I teased and teased. And finally she consented. Os course it was dreadfully unconventional, and my mother’s such a terribly formal creature!” n n * ASHTORETH’S cheeks were . burning. It was probably the most elaborate lie she had ever told. But she simply couldn’t let Mr. Hart think they didn’t know how to do things. Almost all moneyed people had such a respect for the conventions. Mr. Hart looked very sympathetic. “Why, I’m awfully sorry you were ill.” he told her. “You’re look-, mg perfectly radiant now.” “Oh, I’m not,” she protested. “I’m a perfect wreck. It’s been the most dreadful voyage!” “Dreadful!” he exclaimed. “I’d have thought you’d find it delightful.” “Oh. the weather was lovely,” she admitted. “And it was a nice boat, and everything like that. But I had the most terrible experiences. Honestly, I feel just like I’d lived a regular novel!” She played with her ice cream. Coconut ice cream, with coconut, grated over it, and the milk of the fruit for a sauce. “It’s perfectly delicious this tropical sundae,” she remarked, politely. “Don’t change the subject,” he begged. “Won’t you tell me about thorn terrible experiences?” “Why—” she hesitated. . . .People from the boat were coming dowm the street. She could see them through the open door. The Simpson sisters, and Mrs. Hatch, and Mr. and Mrs. Dunks. They had all disapproved of her highly. What if they came in the shop, and Mr. Hart, who would surely know them for passengers off the boat, noticed that they did not speak to her? “All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you! I hardly know how to begin —things moved so fast and furious.” “They always do on a boat,” he remarked. “It’s remarkable —events that, in the ordinary course of things, would transpire over a period of years, all get crammed into a single voyage. Romances blossom over night. And the most phlegmatic people do the most tempestuous things. I suppose it’s the moon, and the stars —and the long, lazy days. They certainly have a way of tindoing us—but I didn't mean to interrupt. Please tell me.” “Well,” she said, “to begin with there was an Englishman named Jack Smythe. And there was the loveliest girl you ever saw named Mona de Musset. Mona roomed with me. And it seems this Mr. Smythe had met her somewhere before, and made love to her and everything. “He told me he was studying law at Harvard—but it seems he writes. Probably he goes to law school too—l don't know. Anyhow lie published this book, and it was all about Mona. And, of course, she was perfectly furious. “They had the most awful fight. And Mona had a hemorrhage.” Ashtoreth dropped her face in her hands, and shivered. “Oh,” she cried, “it was dreadful! Poor Mona had tuberculosis. She’d had it for years and years, and knew all about it. But you see, she was so brave, she wasn’t a bit afraid to die. ...” There were tears in Ashtoreth’s eyes. MUM ASHTORETH raised the jade ornaments about her neck. “She gave me this,” she said.

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Tm giad Peg didn't come nome,” Tony observed, as she and Pat Tarver and Sandy Ross crossed the street toward the Hathaway home. . ’The poor darling would get hysterical and make it harder for Faith. “But—wasn't she sweet to me this morning. Pat? Wasn’t she—dear? I felt like a little girl again. Oh, Pat I'm so glad I have you and Peg and Sandy! All propped up with family. I am!’’ “Huh! Wonder how young Sandy likes bein<* called family?” Pat teased. "Oh, he's super-family, a sort of divine big-brother!” Tony retorted. “Why. there's Harry Blaine! I thought he was still in New York. I wonder if he has any news, or if he's been told about Crystal's kidnaping. He's hurrying! I bet he knows something—Let's run. boys!” The three of them reached the Hathaway porch just as Cherry was opening the door for Harry Blaine. To Tony, who knew nothing of the visit of Chief of Detectives Maguire and his terrifying news of the finding of a giro’s drowned body in the Marlboro river, the reporter’s words, which she and her father and Sandy were elose enough to overhear, were incomprehensible. "It wasn’t Crystal, thank God,” he was saying. “I saw the poor mother of the girl identify the body. Oh. hello. Tony! Lord, but I'm sorry to hear this about Crystal! I wish to God I'd come home a week earlier ” "We're all wishing we'd done something a little 'differently," answered Tony soberly. “Now, tell me what you were talking about. What do you mean-body?” Harry Blaine explained. “A poor little telephone operator who was

i "And all these darling little bracel lets. . . . Oh, she was gorgeous, Mr. Hart!” Again Ashtoreth choked back the tears. . . . “It was so sad!” she i whispered. But Mr. Hart thought otherwise I "I think,” he said, “it was rather ! glorious. Not the auarrel with Mr. Smythe—that was sordid, I suppose. One doesn’t like to think ol a woman quarreling. . . . What I meant was the way your gallant lady died. ... I suppose you know that little verse of -Edna St. Vincent ' Millay’s—almost everybody does.” Ashtoreth shook her head. “Oh, yes, you do,” he insisted, “about the candle: “ ‘My candle burns at both ends. It will not last the night. But. ah my foes, and oh my friends, It gives a lovely light!’ ” Ashtoreth’s eyes brightened. “Why, that’s just like Mona!” she cried. “Because she did burn her candle at both ends. She knew she hadn’t long to live, and yet she kept right on doing things. But Mona wasn’t afraid of the dark.” He reached across, and patted her hands. “Then let’s not feel badly about Mona any more,” he said, and his voice was very gentle. “Your lovely lady is beyond all hurt and pain, and I think she would not want you to grieve for her.” v The Simpsons had come in, and the Dunks, and Mrs. Hatch. They sat at a corner table, and drew lime squashes up through straws. They saw Ashtoreth, but did not speak to her. Ashtoreth spoke quietly. “You see those people over there —those skinny, horrid women, in the blue voile dresses, and that silly little man in golf trousers, with the two fat women? One of them squints, and the other is bowlegged. You’ll see when she stands up.” Mr. Hart smiled. “I gather somehow,” he answered, “that you’re not awfully fond of this quartet.” “I hate them,” she told him calmly. “They’re passengers, you know, and of course you’ve noticed that they didn’t speak to me . , . just glared. Well, nobody on that boat speaks to me! They treat me just like the dirt under their feet! They think I’m not fit to look at! They—” “Why, Ashtoreth!” Mr. Hart looked alarmed. CHAPTER XXIV ASHTORETH wrung her hands nervously. “I’ll tell you why!” she cried. “They just think they’re too good for me—that’s what they think!” “But why?” he demanded. “And why do you care, my dear? They look like very dull peoplel to me. Pious and all that. But a bit stupid, I should think, to your way of thinking.” “They are!” she cried. “That’s just it. They’re stupid as they can be.” “But what have you done to them?” he asked. “And what makes you think they don’t like you?” Ashtoreth controlled her voice with difficulty. They were only a few feet away. “I haven’t done a single thing,” she said. “It was Mona. Poor darling Mona. I didn’t tell you all about Mona, Mr. Hart. She was—well, I suppose you’d call her an adventuress. A music hall entertainer in Paris, and rather notorious, I’m afraid. “But you see I didn’t know that, and we were together all the time. Mona gave me lots of presents. Mr. Smythe said that was why I was so fond of her, but that isn’t true. “I’d have liked her just as much if she’d never given me a blessed thing. But. anyhow, we were together so much I suppose they thought I was like Mona, too. Anyhow they well, what I’m trying to say is they never so much as opened their mouths to either of us.” Mr. Hart smiled. “I wouldn’t worry too much about what other people say if I were you, Miss Ashe,” he declared. “Particularly if they happen to be people you don’t care about. Mona seems to have been a gay lady who

‘in trouble' committed suicide about two days ago by drowning herself in the Marlboro river. Maguire, chief of detectives, who has taken charge of this case personally, through from Faith’s and. Cherry’s description of Crystal, that it might be Chrys. “But it wasn’t. Bob Hathaway is with the chief of police now. They’re getting ready to throw out a dragnet, as the papers call it. “What’s that. Tony? A picture of Crystal? Good! We’ll use it in the Press this afternoon." The photograph, a very large “portrait study” of Crystal Hathaway. was certainly a good likeness of what Crystal, in ter most selfdeceiving fantasies, believed herself to be. “ ‘Beautiful Stanton Society Girl Kidnaped; Held for Ransom’," Cherry quoted future headlines. “If Crystal—l mean—when Crystal comes home, she will be a famous beauty.” “Not the fui in the family,” Harry Blaine could not resist reminding her. “Hadn’t you better tell your sister Faith .that the drowned girl wasn’t Crystal?” “Oh, she knows,” Cherry answered. “Bob telephoned from the morgue . . . Faith's all in," she told Tony. "Fainted when the detective told about the drowned girl. The doctor’s been here and ordered us to keep her as quiet as possible. “I suppose I'll have my hands full, with the reporters and the police and everything. I don’t know what I'd do if it weren’t for Alan Beardsley.” And Cherry looked very tiny and young and helpless—which was exactly as she intended to look. (To Be Continued) -

died gallantly. These good souls have never lived gaily, I am sure. I hardly think they’re worth considering.” Ashtoreth sighed. “Maybe you’re right,” she acknowledged. “Anyhow I hate them.” “Well, then let’s talk of something else,” he proposed. "I’d love to show you around a bit.” nan THEY stood up together, and he took her arm. He looked very slim and tall and handsome in whites. Ashtoreth thought he looked as Julius Caesar might Jiave looked if he had worn trousers and a hat. She had seen a bust of him once at the museum, and thought he had the nicest, leanest profile of antiquity. She had read somewhere that Caesar was the inevitable core spondent of every fashionable divorcee in Rome, and a perfect devil with the ladies. You could tell it. somehow, just to look at him. . . . Now she was thinking how very like the greajj Roman Holiis Hart was. The same straight nose, and thin lips. And a sort of quiet, humorous look. She wondered if they possessed any of the same attributes. As they passed the table where the Simpsons and the Dunks and Mrs. Hatch sucked straws, she looked quite proud and possessive and leaned just a trifle on Mr. part. She elevated her chin, and sailed past them like a queen. When they reached the street, Hart chuckled. “Good for you!” he approved. “That’s giving them all they ever gave you, I guess.” “Oh, you don’t know,” she exclaimed. “They’ve been so frigid!” They strolled in silence for a while. “You could never imagine how surprised I was to see you,” she said finally. “Or glad,” she added. “I thought you’d gone to South America. Sadie Morton told me so.” “That’s where I started for,” he explained. “I took a leisurely little coastwise vessel down through the islands, and meant to go on from Trinidad on one of the bigger boats. “But I stopped off here at Dominica, and I don’t seem to be able to get away. It is quite the loveliest place on earth—up in the mountains, I mean. Os course you don’t see a thing down here in the village. ... By the way, how is Sadie Morton?” Ashtoreth flushed. “Oh, she’s fine,” she said. “She has some other girls living with her now, and she’s still in the apartment.” “I told my attorney,” he remarked carelessly, “to make whatever settlement she wanted. And then I thought I’d rather duck out for a while.” He smiled reminiscently. “That little girl taught me a lesson,” he admitted. “I’m going to be a very cautious fellow after this.” “Well—” Ashtoreth hardly knew what to say. “Sadie has such a lot of sex appeal,” she finished lamely.. “Sex appeal!” he exclaimed “Well—maybe. I’m no authority on the subject. But downright feeblemindedness, I’d call it.” “Oh, no,” Ashtoreth informed him. “Sadie isn’t ieeble-minded. She’s quite smart, really. Only its not to your standards, Mr. Hart. That is, she doesn’t know anything about conversation, or books —or news events, even. “She hasn’t any education, or culture, or background—or any of those things. But—you know, I should think you’d consider her rather smart—she took SII,OOO away from you.” u t* HOLLIS HART threw back his head and laughed. “That’s not smart,” he said. “There are a million gold-diggers could do that. When a girl’s smart, she marries a man.” “Oh.” . . . That was certainly an idea. Ashtoreth revolved it in silence. “I’m living in a little house up on the mountains,” he said. “A shack, rather. But the view from there is gorgeous—simply beyond words. “And I’ve a cook who prepares the most wonderful native dishes. I m wondering what tfrjie the boat leaves. Do you suppose you’d have time to come and call on me? You and enjoy it, I know.” “Oh, I’d love to!” Ashtoreth clapped her hands, like a little child. “That would be lots of fun. How far is it?” “Well, we take a car to the foot of the mountain,” he told her. “My groom is waiting mere with a horse. I could probably get another horse in town sonaewhere. and a man to ride him out. They we’d motor along, and pick them up. “But I don’t ride!” moaned Ashtoreth. “That’s all right.” he assured her. “Nobqdy does much real riding in this Country. The mountain is so steep that the horse only crawls. It takes an hour or so to get up. And you should stay for two hours anyway. If we have four or five hours now, we can do it quite comfortably. 8 # ft ASHTORETH had been thinking? quickly. It was 5 o’clock now* The boat left at 8. There were two warning whistles—one an hour before sailing, and another a half hour before. She would miss the boat! That wretched, hateful boat, whi re every one was so perfectly miserable to her. She would go with Mr. Hart to his little house on the mountain —and then “That’s absolutely perfect!” She cried. “The boat doesn't leave until midnight. We'll have seven whole hours!” They would be safely out of hearing, she reflected, before the warning whistle blew 7 . Mr. Hart would never suspect. She could tell him there was some terrible mistake—that she was positively sure the purser said midnight. . Oh, she could get out of it, all right. When they came dowm the mountain, the boat would have left! “And w r hat,” demanded that sobering little voice that pious people call conscience. “What will happen then?” (To be continued)

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

.... W v" While Captain Scott and his party had marched to rail* within 97 mile* of the South Pole, another expedition - Mawson once fell into from his-ship had made a terrific journey over treach- a crevasse. Held up by erous ice fields and discovered the South Magnetic hi* harness, he picked Pole. In the party were Dr. Douglas Mawson, Prof. *ce crystals from anew T. W. Edgeworth David and Dr. A. F. Mack ay. formation and tossed •j HCA. Thfug. W♦ **•— >* TWac o°****. V * m °P aS *P*CimOnS.

By Ahern

OUT OUR WAT

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Hi His famous march of the summer of 1912 is an epic of terror and triumph. He set out that year with dog _ . U--~< teams, his companions being Xavier Mertz, champion Mawson’s bravery and. Swiss ski-runner, and Lieutenant Ninnis, a towering accomplishments on this young Englishman. During the agonizing march, Nintrip and succeeding ven- nJI WJW KilKod in a fall into one of the bottomless eretures won him the honor yasses of the Antarctic. (To Be Cortinued) V ** r—■crrW"- ’*.^

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRAUCHER

PAGE 11

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