Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 201, Indianapolis, Marion County, 10 January 1929 — Page 11

•TAX. JO, 1920

OUfie Jtoru qf a Modern Moon Goddess r ~QW'X > 'teanar chi and Jkk

CHAPTER XXIX Continued. She laughed gaily. “You’re a silly old darling,” she told him. He chose the most perfect blossom from his armful and gave it to her. “Your darling untouchedness is like this flower,” he said. “No browsing bee has bruised it** little heart. Nor gipsy wind caressed its charms.” Ashtoreth buried her nose tn the orchid’s chalice. She wondered if he really meant it. Hollis was looking at her so reverently that she was profounfily touched. “Daring untouchedness” . . . well, it was a sweet thought. “You say the nicest things,” she approved. “I believe I’ll miss another boat, 90 that you can go on saying them.” She darted a quick glance at him, to see the effect of her suggestion. If only he would urge her to stay! With a little more time —a little more starlight—a little more of being so maddeningly close to each other—then Ashtoreth believed she could wring from him the declaration for which she longed. an tt BUT Hollis shook his head. “Heaven,” he said, “has let me dream for a whole week. Now it is time to wake.” “But why wake?” she cried. “We pay for our dreams in waking out of them. Why can’t we go on dreaming?” He smiled ruefully. "Life,” he told her gently, “isn’t like that. Dreams are only interludes.” “Well, it's been lovely,” she sighed. "But it’s going to be perfectly hideous, trying to put it all behind me. To go on being a stenographer. “And live in a pokey little flat. And take dictation, and pound a typewriter all day. And go to bed all night. And never see the stars except over the top of the buildings.” "Poor working girl!” he taunted. “With nothing ahead but life.” “‘Life!’”‘she scorned. “What’s life when you spend it the way I have to?” "Oh, you’ll find your stars,” he consoled her. “And love, in other gardens. You're very young, you know, Orchid, and very beautiful.” He put his hand on her head in fatherly fashion. And then kissed her and felt the sting of tears on his bewildered lips. “Why, Orchid,” he cried. “It’s nothing,” she insisted, and brushed her eyes hastily. “I get so sorry for myself sometimes that’s all.” “Sorry!” he echoed. “Why, you adorable little simpleton, don’t you know tnat you ought to go around singing paeans of joy, just because you’re alive, with all life stretching like a great adventure, ahead of you.” “There's no adventure,” she told him, “in being poor.” “Well, there’s a lot mor§ than in being rich,” he maintained. “Being rich now is an awful bore. When you can have everything you want, you know, you don’t want things.” “And have you everything you want?” she asked. a a tt HE looked at her quietly. “Everything,” he said, “that money can buy.” “I suppose.” she mused, “money has absolute purchasing power. With money you can buy power, position, leisure, enjoyment. Love, even.” She w'as treading on dangerous ground, and she knew it. “Yes” she repeated slowly. “A man could buy perfect love, I imagine.” She sat on a little hillock, and drew her knees up under her chin. “Sit down,” she invited, “and tell me what a cold-blooded hard-boiled w'cked woman I am.” "I would,” he said, “if I thought you meant it. But I know you’re altogether too idealistic to believe that sort of thing. Love, Orchid, is the one commodity that cannot be bartered and sold.” She looked across the mountains to the ocean, shimmering in glorious haze. “Oh. I know-.” she cried. “I'm a perfect little beast! But you don’t

Bob Hathaway was wating in the hall for the detective whom Maguire had stationed at the phone to conclude a conversation when Harry Blaine, reporter for The Press and one of Crystal’s few stanch friends, entered through the front door which Nils had left open upon his arrival. •Hello, Hathaway! Any news?” he greeted Bob soberly. ‘‘l was just going to tell Sergeant Henry here—” Bob began, when Harry interrupted him with a prodigious frown and a jerk of the head toward the living room. Bob nodded, but waited for the detective to conclude his conversation. "Gosh-a-mighty!” the police detective ejaculated, and wiped his forehead disgustedly. “If I get another of these long-winded dames —But we go to listen to their yarns, just in case. “This frau is sure she seen Miss Crystal having dinner at the Randolph last night with a snaky sheif Just another of the thirty or forty false clews I've collected this afternoon and evening, but we can't overlook a bet. I’ll put a man on this tip . . • Any tiring on your mind. Chief?” he concluded to Bob. “I just wanted to see if you'd heard anything,” Bob evaded, and passed into the living room with Barry Blaine. When Harry Blaine had heard Nils’ story of the girl who had ridden until dark in a tourist family’s automobile, and had then insisted on oeing let out on the dark state highway, he whistled long and low. "I’d bet a month's salary', broke as I am, that that was Crystal,” he commented at last. “And I’m going to follow up this tip myself, if you don’t mind, Hathaway. . . . No, I’d rather you didn't come with me.

i know’ what it is, Holly, to long for beauty with every fiber of your bej ing—and have to put up with uglij ness. I “To worship the lovely things that I wealth can buy—and live with j poverty. I tell you, I don’t blame girls who put a higher value on beauty and luxury than the sacredness of their poor, shabby bodies.” “Orchid!” he cried. “My dear, I can’t bear to hear you say such things.” “It’s the truth,” she' insisted stubbornly. “Look at me!” he commanded. n a st HE lay on the grass at her feet, and held her eyes with him. “Let us supose,” he said, “that I should offer you more money than you could spend, my dear. And ask, in return, the gift of your love. “Could you sell your kisses for my banknotes, Orchid? And your lovely clinging arms for dollars and cents?” “Oh, please, Holly!” she begged. “You don’t mean it. Don'ta talk like that.” He sat up, and caught her hands, and held them tightly. “You’ve no right to be angry,” he told her. “You said yourself—” CHAPTER XXX THE sun had gone behind a bank of threatening clouds. Great gray clouds that came scurrying in over the ocean. Fleeing from the fury of the wind. And the wind swept across the sea, and down into its depths. Churning, and whipping, and lashing the dark waves. Servants came running from the house. Lisa, with her husband, Cher. And Hortense, who laundered Ashtoreth’s clothes, and drew her bath, and combed her long black hair. And others, following them. With little black children scampering like frightened chickens. They shouted in patois. Hollis jumped to his feet. And Hortense came running to Ashtoreth. She alone, of the servants, spoke English. “It is another hurricane,” she said. “They have given the storm signals. And now a messenger from town has come with word from the wireless station. The wind comes sweeping from the south, traveling like God, so fast.” a a a THERE was a hurricane shelter hewn in the side of the mountain. It lay at the foot of the terraced gardens, a few steps from where they stood. The servants were carrying food and water there, and making frenzied preparations for a siege within the great stone chamber. “Close all the shutters in the house!” ordered Hollis, “and barricade them firmly.” He hurried Ashtoreth along beside him. “We’ll stay in the house,” he told her. “It's as firm as the rock of Gibraltar. These people are panicstricken, after that last dreadful storm. But I’m sure there is no need of such elaborate precautions. They can huddle together in the shelter if they prefer. We’ll be quite cozy and safe in the drawingroom.” Ashtoreth clung to him, horrified. “What if it's like that last one!” “It won’t be,” he reassured her. “Lightning never strikes twice in the same place.” The Negroes were praying on their knees'. In their hands they held all manner of charms. And flambeaux, to scare away the devil, and the Suck E’Yan. who rides on the wings of the wind, and sucks the blood of babies, and very old people, and pigs. “Poor creatures,” said Hollis. “No wonder they are frightened. You know the baby Lisa has? It’s her sister’s child. The mother was found five days after the last storm —dead, in the ruins of her hut, with her body partly decomposed. And the child scarcefuly alive.” Ashtoreth shuddered. “I’m scared to death,” she confessed. “We read about how they burned hundreds of bodies here, because they couldn’t bury them

“I may be off on the wrong track, and you'd better be there to handle things if the straight dope does come through.” “Let me go with you!” Cherry begged, her golden eyes ablaze with excitement. “Fat chance!” Harry Blaine grinned at her. “I’m taking a gun and I don’t want to be hampered any in using it, if I get a chance. .. . Let’s see: Beamish is about seventy-five miles from here, isn't it? I’ll borrow your car, if you’re willing, Jonson,” he added to Nils, wi'o consented eagerly. “What are your plans. Blaine’” Bob sked. “Plans! I’ll form them as I go along. Rout out the postmaster at Beamish, of course. The police checked up on him today but he says the ransom letter was picked up by a rural free delivery carrier. Found it in the roadside letter box of a farmer w 7 ho swears he has no knowledge of how it got there. The farmer’s family is ul-tra-respectable, so theie’s no reason to suspect him. Any crook could have picket! out his box, which is doubtless what the kidnapers did. “They’ve been deuced clever about the whole business. But I’ll see the postmaster and the carrier. | just on the chance that there’s | something they forgot to tell the | police. Then I’ll proceed from there on the inspiration of the moment. I “Os course I may draw blanks all along the way. but I’ve got a hunch that I’ll bring Crystal home with me . . Hope so,” he grinned. “I’ve got to rewrite my play and I need her to help me. Confounded inconsiderate of her to go and get herself kidnaped just at this time.” (To Be Continued)

fast enough. Oh, Holly, what if it’s another hurricane like that!” He lifted her easily in his arms, and ran toward the house. The windows had been barricaded, and the lamps lighted. Over them were huge hurricane shades. “No need of being frightened,” he told her . “No one on this plantation was hurt last time, and we’re going to be safe enough now.” tt a a ASHTORETH looked about. The doors from the drawing room were open, but there was not a human sound about. Only the wind, howling like a maniac through the branches of the great mangoes. Shrieking like a demon, as it swept down the mountain, and all about the lonely little house. “Are we alone?” she asked, shivering. “Quite alor e,” he told her. “And liable to be for several hours. All day, perhapSy ’And all night, too. Are you frightened?” She shook her head miserably. Too miserable to speak. “We were talking,” ho said “when the storm came up, of love—and money. And I had asked a question that you did not answer.” Ashtoreth walked nervously up and down the room. “Oh, please!” she begged. “I don’t feel half so wicked as I did before that wild wind began to scream.” “Then you didn't really mean it?” he persisted. “Oh, I don't know what I meant!” she cried. “I’m simply petrified, Holly. And I can’t talk abstractions about good and evil. For heaven’s sake, what are we going to do?” He looked at her intently. “That,” he said very deliberately, ‘ is entirely up to you, my dear.” “Oh,” she cried. “I hate you!” “But I’ve ever so much money,” he reminded her. “and you said—” She interrupted him tearfully. “Oh, I don’t care what I said. I was just talking. I didn’t mean a single word. And I was wicked to say things like that.” She put her hands on his shoulders. and he saw that her eyes were crying. So that he thought of two shining lakes of misery, brimming with tears. tt tt tt “Y’M the worst coward in the X world,” she confessed. “And every time I think I might die, or get killed, two dreadful lines keep going over and over in my mind. Do you remember that poem of Kipling's about a wicked man named Tomlinson? Tomlinson died, and his soul went wandering through the spheres. “And Tomlinson was scared to death. God wouldn’t let him in heaven, and they wouldn’t let him in hell, either, bee u e the devil said he hadn’t the sou* of a louse. And, always, as that poor soul got shunted about, there was the same refrain to torment: “ ‘And the sin chat ye sin by two and two, Ye shall pay for one by one.’ ” Suddenly she began to cry. Hollis put his arms around her, and comforted her. And, when he felt her body throbbing, held her close, with her head on his chest, until her sobs ceased. “I know it’s morbid, and silly,” she admitted. “But one’s so brave about doing things with other people. Then, when you remember you’ll have to pay for them all by yourself—it’s—it’s a d-different s-story.” “But, you poor silly child,” he murmured, “you’ve never done anyi thing wrong. You’ve never sinned 1 by two and two, that you must pay for one by one. .. . Have . you, i dear?” He took her chin, and tilted her head back, searching her eyes. “N—no,” she said. “Not exactly. B—but I was just as much as p-pro-posing it.” He laughed at her, as one laughs at a child. “Baby!” he accused. “And she told me she was a cold-blooded, hard-boiled, wicked woman!” “Well, I’d like to be,” she admitted. “Only I’m scared. There’s no virtue in being a coward.” “No,” he admitted. “I don’t suppose there is. Still, it’s a reasonable little safeguard—cowardice. I’m glad you’re not brave, Orchid, if that’s the way life goes.” He regarded her tenderly. “I’m going to make you a cup of tea,” he told her. “And find some of Lisa’s bread and jam. And we’re going to have a party all by ourselves. “You know, you never told me about that letter your father wrote you. You started to our first eve- ! ning togehter. Do you feel like talk- | ing about it now?” a SHE knew that he was changing the subject. Distracting her attention from the stoym, to a recital of her father’s philosophical bequest. “I’d love to,” she said. “It was a wonderful letter. But don’t make tea, Holly. It takes too long, and I I don't want you to leave me alone.” “Come out in the kitchen then,” : he invited. “No,” she said. “Hortense swears it's haunted. You have a drink, if | you want it.” She was glad that Hollis never tried to force liquor on her. Men were always trying to get girls to j take a drink. And everybody said that prohibition stuff was so dreadful, whatever happened, it wasn’t a girl’s fault. Maybe rum in the tropics wasn't so dangerous. Just the same . she was glad that Holis never proposed they take a drink together. “I don’t want it,” he said. “I couldn’t kiss you, if I had a drink. Rum smells worse than anything in the world. Didn't you know 7 that?” “No.” she told him demurely. “I supposed they all smelled alike.” “Miss Innocence!” he approved. She wondered if he meant it. If j he really believed her to be so very innocent. And she thought how strange it w 7 as that just a simple little stenographer could twist a great big millionaire around her ! finge*. But could she? Wa" Hollis Hart going to ask her to marry him? Or was it he, perhaps, w 7 ho was going : to do exactly as he chose with her? (To Be Continued)

TOE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

I SAY M*JbR,~V4IU- *V'T BGAP sir AALTHoaW t ~ ll* VoLi EV/ER Eo’RGE'f'TdA'T rOGGV 1 ? VCELL PO I "REMEMBER MloH-f vi& WERE OV/Efc. "JhE J -tX/StT OKS IAiDIA | . 1 umeHodse pisTßief or LokipoA\Ml dock roap -tHiMk Vour ) f is x vJARpEAi is Halt hep-to me w / -rHe mapam \\asa< -the / \ -THIS E/tieLtsH a, suoH'ffrsi' suspicion! as -Jb I \ KltiP 0 T ME -fH' X-RAV CVE Nod ft iDEAi-frTV/ —) MAul 7 A-r Vo u recall ve, WfteM -IHose J "”*7 “THAT WE-"TooK A CAE /> -RUFFIANS STARIfeP ~To I AMP DROVE 'To -THE OAR AMP / sMEER A-f US, / Me, ANCHOR IMM, us'eM, J V /Yjjav/u?, Vou are \zerV y .g \< ALL ■RIOM'f *fo / / cotiv/lMcmo AS A

BOOTS ANI) HER BUDDIES

ivy y/ i u aXm \ i s nun j-j gmsms x. _ , ■' - ■ r WHUT6 DAT YO& J vVe. GONKA BE A Jl WfcU-, lAv VCIGS A V\6 ~\Y COWCOCTItt’, HONEY •• jp CAKR , L HOPE |f 'T '“bttT A j ■ .1. T '

FRECKLES AND I lIS FRIENDS

■— "X R. K lat£ ,S are vy oos—X

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

. VOT THIS IS SX fMV WHO MV VOU 1b MA.KE / The.'! ARE. AND lr THEN JAN insult. I j DEMANDS'! dunnervedder. DON’T VAvn JOBS IN DER i\ DEMAND THAT-/ VOU SEEM To THINK TOUR Hn DEPARTMENT, FAPA 'SS STILL ON DER 'ritT^ 05 IV " T ’ El ' A ' y 5 ’THWy Throne, not RI6WT HAD V g YOU TO GIF 'EM MEDALS, m //i ANWVArt? VOT RI6HT HAD ‘I II VOSJ TO PROMISE — J rpRIkCCSS sIADA GOES COUNT ; r= = ~-l’ U NON PREmi; THE FEROCIOUS OLD \A VY 6RAND VITER OF kANDELASRA, To \ Vf*REQUEST POSITIONS FOR WASH AND ;

SALESMAN SAM

WtLL,Good mormimg-, \ oh,huh! ( cotta) [gracious! ( couloa oe-Nthats vjhat I'd Horace. - DID YOUR MAMa) MOT6.SOM£V)eRE tWERCD TH’ GOODS J TA know SEHDYAVJAY DOWM HERE, /what Sorts Wat WHrt DlOd’T swe. /'CAUSE. Mrt MAMA Ta do soMeswoppiN’ sne wahts- PHowe - ? ukes you Pretty a&aim? _—-A Newell, i Guess \

MON ’N POP

H gosh'.pop , Y sure '. step omN DANCING. AT PORTV. / iT-VU-BE. j I 'WONDER WHtf GlM'-iS V M.L REkDV 1 / 'WOULD THINK V. C” was? san.this 15 .

THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

Captain Scott tested the position as given by Amundsen and found it accurate —Amundsen had reached the South Pose a month ahead of him. Taking a letter Amundsen had left attached to the flag, which was addressed to the King of Norway, Scott and his party started home, sadly. •- *. * ?** • ' -■' T-* (took KrtWne***. Ce**ri*M

By Ahern

Shortly after the return journey started the mighty Edgar Evans suffered a breakdown. Try as he might he could not keep up with the others. J j

OUT OUR WAY

S" XX VtMOVi <3WOW \Tpfl y* \ /ie OFftKl COLDS?? \| ,| - ■ \ BoT \AOw in GOOD . f' FELLtv? I GoevA A<S>F\£fcT V Iglgil \m vjrot's / i V W^/rn?/ siERv/ei / \ COLDER TvVn) ft-Y ftOOM A l . V<-5 i®* 1 v j, w-s //y , MAOe - KIO'T BORKJ GtRWU-iAMS. REG U. S. PAT. OFF. ©tM 9. NE* SERVICE, INC.

Ui HRAWKIfe yoft. BOWVte, X W/M'W 'T VOA<b A VUOCVt OOT, SOY-AVi YOG 006 WT R !|-f Y > ‘M, BtHY - KX? V.Vb<b - A vet cAßbrn. ov wvw yoo i Mfx Y ‘ i/Kvnrw miTlI |! , l ’,-UU I H

([ 7 WOOOTBAPreN I TTAOSe roice FAT \ OU, I’D JUST 7 70 hAWE SQAAS AAONGY J ( BOTTER CPEA/WS = J LOME SOME Js MUITU VOG DO v. ) UOW'D you LIRE YR OF7IAOSE, L VOU ' rX '

r -gUT THEN RESCUED ME FROM HUDSON 1/ k” f FIE ON rtOUl^] DEV. WHY, IF IT WERE NOT FOR THEM,I—N/ 7 A LIE, Mrt Y. r <, w alL 60 OH, WHrt ARCnUE. rtOO WOULD St R'D OF V SVE&T PRtNCESS. \ , -gefORE THE- g'V ME. YOU FEAR l MArt SPOIL YOUR 6RAFT ( HAF I NOT SVORN ] y STUPID jt-W® AMD THIEVERY. YOU HATE THE AMERICANS/ MY ETERNAL LUFF J S>E CAUSE THEY HELPED ME /YV'lcTl —| ?LAT £ P RETURN . V f__. \ l- p.j*.

WHAT MlAK.es Na Gee! LOOiaT ALL } °\ THIMK THAT, 50MHY?/TH' KISSeS SHE'S Y WZ&Sa&ii

IIKT ThiNKImG ABOUT ) WENT TO THE MUCH LEFT FoFJ. THEM >. \F THEY Lu<e IT. VOU WUFN THeSe DAMCt Too: POPS - -To DO -AT THAT AGt/l THINK BUT I CAN'T ; R AN& I WAS MV mint iWD UNCLE \TO HOPS JhOU&H- FOft OLD PEOPLE To -Y CAN &&T MUCH ,

m WKileYrossing Beardmore Clacier.'Evans fell. He died soon after. Without his strength the party faced a desperate : Pf'ght. S *

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRAUCHEK

Then Captain Oates became terribly frost-bitten about the feet and could not help to pull the sled. Indeed he could hardly walk. Poor Oates was retarding the others and he knew it. One morning when the blizzard was raging mercilessly, he walked away from the party, never to be seen again. He died that his friends might have a chance to live. Be Continued) J

PAGE 11

—By Williams

—By Martin

uy lslos.ser

By Crane

By Small

By Cowan