Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 210, Indianapolis, Marion County, 21 January 1929 — Page 8

PAGE 8

OOhe Stoyjf of a Modern Moon Goddess re. ci± id mte-

—rffl HAM HAfrCNED AiaHTOREni ASHE, or,gaged to HGi, MS HAKT. her millionaire employer. JUidi herself. unexpectedly. In a wretched situation. An unpleasant story concerning their romance has reached, the papers. On top of that. Hollis figures In sn airplane accident with MONTY ENGLISH. her ex-sweetheart. And meantime. SADIE MORTON ta friend of Ashtoreth'si is threatening to sue Hollis. Sadie’s game is blackmail. Ashtoreth. mortified and frightened, determines to thwart Sadie’s schemes, and marry Hollis Immediately. He telephones her from Connecticut, where the plane crashed, that he is on hia way to Boston. And he tells her that he can have the five-day marriage law waived, and marry her In the morning. She Is excited and happy, but a bit dismayed because of the disconcerting . news of Monty English. Monty was also flying to Ashtoreth. When Hollis telephoned, Monty was with him. He asked to speak to Mrs. Ashe, but the connection was abruptly severed. Now. Ashtoreth, with her head In a mad whirl, la planning for her mar--1 "now GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER XXXIX GETTING married to a famous man isn't half as nice as It sounds. That is, it’s a dreadful strain. A regular nightmare, Ashtoreth said. Only worse. Oh, much, much worse. . . . With reporters asking a girl how many nightgowns she had, and if it was a love match. And would she please tell them the story of her romance, and how Mr. Hart proposed? And where they were going to live? And did she mean to have a family? “I wonder, my dear Miss Ashe,” purred Miss Fannie Drown, sob sister of the Trumpet, “if you will tell all the little stenographers in the city how to win a husband. Through the pages of the Trumpet, you know. On the Woman’s Page. A nice, dignified little interview.” There were photographers, with big black cameras, on the steps. And movie men, who set up tripods on the sidewalk. There were reporters from every paper in town. And several from New York besides* The telephone rang incessantly. Messengers arrived in droves. Sadie had disappeared. And Maizie wrung tier plump hands, and called on heaven to witness a mother’s grief. Ashtoreth wanted to be married in ivory satin, with a wimple like a nun's, to swathe her throat and face. She wanted to carry a pure white Easter illy, with a long stem. Ail her life she had dreamed about it. All she had to do was clpse her eyes, and hear the orgar music roll. She could see herself, a vision in filmy white, standing on a red carpet, before a great white altar, with candles so lofty they seemed half lost in the darkness. Standing before a man of God, important in ecclesiastical robes and the trappings of churchly office. While a golden tenor, trembling passionately should sing “O Promise Me.” a u a PROBABLY every girl dreams of such a wedding. And some see their dreams come true. Anybody would thipk that Ashtoreth, engaged to one of the richest men in the country, could have been married in any fashion she chose. Asa matter of fact, she j&ined hands with Hollis in the office of Mr. Harvey Higginbotham, who was his attorney.. And happened, also, to be a justice of the peace. She wore black crepe satin, six months old. A small velvet hat, and a pointed fox scarf. In her ears were large single pearls, and about her neck a graduated string. On the third finger of her left hand she wore another monstrous pearl, gleaming from a gorgeous setting of diamonds. Hollis had bought them in New York, after she had taken the train for Boston. The scarf he had also bought. It was in the window of a nearby shop, and impressed itself upon him as being soft and beautiful enough to warm the pale, slim throat of his lovely Orchid. The pearls he had carried in his pocket. The scarf arrived, by messenger from New York, a few minutes before the ceremony. Ashtoreth carried an armful of orchids. Hollis, she decided, must have ordered them by the gross. They were in bowls and vases

THE NEW Saint-Sinner ByjJrmeJlustjn Cl93B4'l£fc.S3nGUNC.

Only for one brief instant did Crystal Hathaway's hysterical mind consider the simplest solution to her problem for saving Pablo Mendoza from the consequences of her mad flight—creeping back to her cousin’s home and acknowledging the shameful truth. No. no! She couldn’t abase herself so. Could not bear Faith’s pity anu 6ob's disgusted anger; could bear, no less. Tony Tarver s honest, scornful eyes. Tony never lied, could not understand liars. But then, the Tony Tarvers of this world have so little reed to lie, Crystal told herself with angry vehemence. No. she simply could not face any of them—now. Not with her pathetic. foolish romance exposed, evfevry shred of importance stripped from her tiny soul. , As long as she stayed away, was “musteriously missing,” as the papers would have it, she was important. She could picture the confusion and consternation in her oftreapeated expressions of love and remorse that she had not done more to make “poor Crystal” happy; Bob's cousinly desire to avenge her wrongs: his frantic efforts to bring back the girl he had so little appreciated when she was a member of his household. For several minutes, as Crystal plodded wearily along the dark, rutted country lane, her bruised ego took comfort from these pictures which her imagination evoked. But—how could she make sure that Pablo Mendoza, who loved her and who had wanted to marry her, should not come to grief and humiliation through her disappearance? It would be many hours before the Plimpton’s could ppssibly re- 1

everywhere about Mr. Higginbotham's office. On the desk and the window sills and the mantel. They were married at noon, on the heels of an incredible morning. nun HOLLIS has arrived some time after midnight, with a terrible tale of the airplane accident, and high praise for Monty English. It was very foggy, and they were flying low. Three hundred feet or so, he thought, from the ground. Suddenly the motor died, and the plane went into a spin. As she crashed through the trees, the wings were tom from the fuselage. And the body, when they struck the ground, was twisted and battered into a shapeless mass. The pilot, Hollis said, was badly shaken up. The shock alone had almost killed him. He and Monty had clambered from the forward cockpit, and lifted the poor chap out. He was bleeding from the nose and mouth, and crying like a woman. Hollis stayed with him, while Monty sought the open road, and help. There was a newspaper in the plane, that Monty had carried. Hollis was tearing it apart, and using it to staunch the flow of blood from the pilot’s nose, when his own name, on the front page, caught his eye. “Hollis Hart, prominent Bostonian,” it said, “returned today on the S. S. v 3uanita from a cruise to the West Indies. With Mr. Hart was a youn glady of unusual beauty, said to have been a stenographer In his employ. “Her name on the passenger list was given as Ashtoreth Ashe, and her address Boston. “Miss Ashe is a striking brunet with beautiful eyes of a peculiar gray-green. Her age was given as 23. She is tall and slim. “Mr. Hart is said to have expressed a particular preference for the romantic isles of the Caribbean. A retreat at Dominica is alleged to have been visited by Miss Ashe, who left the boat tt the island, while the other passengers went on to Trinidad. “Upon the return voyage of the S. S. Juanita, Miss Hart reappeared with Mr. Hart. “Passengers, who viewed the romance with considerable interest, declare that the devotion of the millionaire to the beautiful stenographer was the talk of the boat. “Mr. Hart, well-known man about town, has already figured in many affairs of the heart. His engagement has been frequently rumored, and as many times denied. “The Hart fortune is estimated as exceeding $20,000,000. The family has been foremost in Boston society for many generations, and dates its American ancestry to the early Huguenot settlers. “Mr. Hart is a sportsman of note. He is well known for his philanthropies. and has often been called the most eligible bachelor in America. “Efforts to reach the Ashe family in Boston had failed at a late hour this afternoon. "Following their departure from the boat, Mr. Hart registered at the Ritz, but checked out shortly. He and his fair companion are believed to be en route to Boston.” tt tt tt HOLLIS had torn the story from the paper, and stuffed it in his pocket. Shortly Monty returned with help, and the pilot was conveyed to a hospital. By that time wires across the nation were humming with news of the accident, and the remarkable escape of the two passengers. Names were ascertained, and the story of Hollis’ return from the Caribbean linked with the news of the crash. The Ashes —mother and daughter —locked the door of their apartment. And silenced the electric buzzer, and stuffed the telephone bell, to hear from Hollis’ lips the story of his adventure with Monty English, former sweetheart of the girl he loved. Maizie had met her future son-in-law stiffly. He was, she reflected, old enough to be her elder brother. He had, moreover, involved Ash-

port her movements, create the suspicion that she had been kidnaped by those two young roughnecks who had tried to pick her up. In the meantime, Bob would find out all about Pablo, and set the police on the poor boy’s trail. She could imagine great, burly policemen boarding Pablo’s train, which was carrying him to Mexico; could see them laying violent hands on him, third-degreeing him, clapping him in jail. The girl began to run, sobbing, the heavy suitcase hitting against her leg and bruising it. She had no idea where she was going, how she could accomplish what she had to do, but she ran on, pursued by a hundred imps out of the hell she had created for herself. At last she found herself at the end of the lane, bumped into a low, boarded-over well equipped with an old-fashioned pump. The moon, just rising, broke from a cloud bank —a great, golden friendly ball. By its light Crystal saw a small, unpainted, weather-stained shack. She stared at it, leaning against the well-casing, not daring to advance for fear of arousing the occupants. Then, as her eyes grew accustomed to the moonlight they took in two significant facts. No smoke was rising from the rough-tone chimney, and the miniature porch was covered inches deep with a drift of yellow and brown October leaves. Whoever owned the shack certainly had not liyed in it for at least a week. If she could force an entrance, here was refuge, and a place in which to work out the fantastic, elaborate scheme which appeared to her to be the only way to save Pablo and her own face. (To Be Continued.)

toreth in an unpleasant scandal. She looked on him with distrust, and shook his hand coldly, coloring with displeasure. His ease and assurance put her at a disadvantage. So that she was awkward, and more ungracious perhaps than she meant to be. She was jealous when he touched Ashtoreth, and angry. She could have cried when he took her child in his arms and kissed her. Her mother instincts were untamed as a tiger’s, and she wanted to strike his arms away, and tear his hands from Ashtoreth’s shoulders. She thought of Monty, and could not dismiss him from her mind. “If it was Monty,” she thought, “I should not mind losing Ashtoreth to him. It wouldn’t be like losing her then.” She felt that Hollis would separate her forever from her adored child. And the dreadful fear became a horrible conviction, as she watched them together. tt tt tt “r-pELL me.” . . . She interrupted X their love making. “Tell me, Mr. Hart, about Monty.” “Oh, yes—young English!” Hollis started. “A remarkably fine young man, Mrs. Ashe.” “Yes,” Maizie agreed grimly. “He’s one fine boy, Monty is. I love him as if he was my own son. They don’t come any better than Monty. Money or no money, you can’t beat a fine, clean boy, Mr. Hart.” “Oh, mother!” deprecated Ashtoreth faintly. “It’s such a long story,” apologized Hollis, “I’m afraid I haven’t been very coherent. I told you about seeing the story in the paper, and thrusting it in my pocket. “Well, when young English came back, he noticed it. I’d destroyed the rest of the paper, do you see, and this was sticking out of my pocket. He reached, and pulled it out. “ ‘Were you saving this?’ he asked. Tt happens to be something I wanted myself.’ “Well, naturally, I was surprised ‘ls that so?’ I said. Then I told him that I was Hollis Hart, and that the young lady was my fiancee. “ ‘Do you happen to know her?’ I asked. ‘ls that why you were interested?” “For a moment, the boy looked as though I had struck him in the face. He staggered a bit, and I thought he was going to fall. The crash, had unnerved him a bit. “ ‘Do I know her i’ he gasped. ‘My God, man, I love h.. ” Hollis looked directly at Ashtoreth. “And then,” he told her, “I know it must be Monty English—the boy who wanted to meet you at the pier. I think I put out my hand to him. I called him by name, I believe. It’s all a little hazy.” Maizie was wiping her eyes. “It’s a shame!” she moaned. “My heart goes out to Monty . . That’s why he was coming to Boston, Ashtoreth—he’d read that story in the paper.” “Yes, he told me so,” continued Hollis. “You see, Orchid, he couldn’t know, my darling, how much I loved you. He was coming, I think, to beat me up, or shoot me, or something of the sort. He thought “T>OOR, dear Monty!” murmured X Ashtoreth. Maizie sat up straight, and looked suspicious. “He was with you when you phoned,” siie said. “But he’d gone by the time I got to the telephone.” Hollis nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Ashe. He told me, after the connection was broken, that he had decided he would rather not talk. He was pretty much broken up, poor chap.” Ashtoreth was deeply distressed. “But you told him, Holly, that everything was all right? And that we were going to be married. He smiled at her eagerness. “I assured him, my dear, that I worshipped you beyond life and death, and that I meant to make you the happiest girl in the world. I told him we were going to be married in the morning. ...” “And then what did he say?” interrupted Maizie. “That he thought he'd be getting back to New York,” answered Hollis. “We shook hands, and said good-by. ftnd he congratulated me, like a prince.” Ashtoreth swallowed a lump in her throat. “Let’s not talk about Monty,” she said. “I don’t want anything to spoil my happiness this night.” “Nothing will ever spoil your happiness, my darling,” Hollis told her gravely. “I’ve telephoned my lawyer, dearest, and he will make arrangements to have the law waived, so we may be married In the morning. We’ll have to file intentions of course, and outwit the reporters as best we can.” “You’ll never outwit them,” warned Maizie ominously. “Don’t I know? My husband was a newspaper man for fifteen years, Mr. Hart, and there’s no fooling the pack.” (To Be Continued) Reporters on the job in the next chapter. Fannie Drown and some more sob sisters. INDIANA RANKS LOW IN AUTO FEES TOTAL 42nd Among States in Gas Tax, License Collection. Indiana ranks forty-second among the states m the amount of gas tax and automobile license fees collected according to a recent issue of the American Highway magazine. The average mileage of state highways in the United States is about 10 per cent of the total. In this state 5.9 per cent, of the total mileage has been placed under the state highway department Average wealth o. the property along the state highway system throughout the country is estimated at $1,000,000 a mile by the magazine. In Indiana, however, according to figures compiled by W. C. Markham, executive secretary of the American Association of State Highway Officials, the average wealth per mile IS $2,000,000.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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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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SALESMAN SAM

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MON ’N POP

THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

the time primitive man first began to build houses he has faced the danger of fire. As wood began to replace mud and clay in the building of early towns the danger of fire grew much greater. No regular municipal fire-fighting departments were organized, however, until the rise of the Roman Empire. Two thousand years ago, Roms had a drilled fire depart-^

By Ahern

House, in the poorer quarters were entirely of wood, and oach had a fire burning on an open altar, so that conflagrations were very easily '

OUT OUR WAY

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flfsj if. LuLUbp (fy Since there were no fire alarm boxes, the Romans stationed watchmen, called Nocturnes, at regular intervals on jjdt the streets of thei city./

SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BRAUCHES

When a man’* house caught fire, he would rush to the street and make for the nearest Nocturne. This official would cail the news to the next Nocturne, a block or so off, who would pass the word to the next until the alarm reached the nearest Castra, or fire house. Then all the Nocturnes in the vioinity would rush to the fire and keep the crowds back until the fire company arrived. (To Be Continued) , - n /

JAN. 21, 1929

—By Williams

-Bv Martin

By Blosser

By Crane

By Small

By Cowan