Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 221, Indianapolis, Marion County, 2 February 1929 — Page 11

FEB. 2, 1929..

HIS HAS HAFPE.VED Because she disguises her beauty behind yellow spectacles and 111-fltUng clothes. RUTH LESTER, private secretary. Is able to work unmolested four months for HANDBOME HARRY” BORDEN’ notorious for his affairs with women. Ruth would resign but for a romance which springs up between her and JACK HAYWARD, whose office is Just across the narrow atrsbaft from Borden's private oSlce. They become, engaged on a Friday r.leht In January. Ruth comes to the office next morning with her disguise removed and BENNY SMITH, office boy. Is Infatuated. Borden arrives and Ruth, summoned to his office with the mall, presents him with an orchid-tinted envelope which he thrusts Into his pocket with an angry oath. He asks her to get SSOO In cash at the bank and to make reservations for two on the 2:15 train for Winter Haven. Ruth learns whom the second ticket Is for when RITA DUBOIS, night club dancer, calls on Borden. While she Is In his private office. MRS. BORDEN, hls estranged wife and mother of hls two children. calls to get her monthly alimony. Mrs. Borden gets a glimpse of the pistol which Jack has given Ruth to keep In the lower drawer of her desk, as a protection against holdup men. Mrs. Borden leaves, promising to return at 1:30. When Rita comes out of the inner office Borden waves a torn bank note at her cautioning her to keep her part of the "bargain.” NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER IV HARRY BORDEN was chuckling as he closed the outer door upon Rita Dubois. "They all fall pooner or later, eh, Miss Lester? Some little jazz queen—Rita. You ought to see her and her dancing partner. Ramon Romero, do their turn at the Golden Slipper. “Maybe I’ll take you some night—hmm? Make Rita jealous. A little jealousy’s good for ’em. That would be a neat way of pay ng her back for keeping me on the anxious seat for a week." Ruth said nothing, but her back was rigid and her fingers, flying over the keys, were spoiling a letter by interpolating. "Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party.” "How’re the letters coming on?” Borden suddenly became brisk and businesslike again. ‘‘Nearly through? Where’s Benny?” "Gone to the postoffice lir stamps,” Ruth answered, in the meek, small voice with which Borden was familiar. "He should be back any minute now. I have five more letters to write, including that long one to Hendrickson. . . . "And oh, Mr. Borden,” she detained Mm meekly, "Mrs. Borden was here while Miss Dubois was with you. I told her you were in conference and she said she would return at 1:30. You’d said you would be here until about 2.” Harry Borden dropped an angry oath. Then, "I don’t know whether I’ll be here or not. Why the devil didn’t she come earlier in the morning? "She knows damned well that if she doesn’t ask for her money—my money!—on the fifteenth, she’ll have to do without. It would serve her right if I deared out at once.” A vision of Elizabeth Borden’s white, suffering face turned Ruth ill. “Then won’t you please leave a check with me for her?” she pleaded, raising her spectacled eyes to the man who stood scowling in the door of his private office. “I’ll be glad to wait here until she comes, although I have an engagement lor one myself—” "No!” Borden was curiously violent. “I’ll be here, and I’ll make her ask me for it, make her beg for it. It’s an outrage that I have to fork over SSOO a month for her and the children. The judge that made the award was a sentimental fool. Three hundred would be more than ample.” Ruth’s eyes, looking very meek behind their spectacles, did not falter, however. “Hadn't I better leave the door on the latch? You might not hear her knock—” "Let her pound on it, then!” Borden retorted grimly, "you know I never stay in these offices alone without the door’s being locked. "What with holdup men and bellyaching investors dropping in with their pretty little threats because they can’t take their losses like men, my life wouldn't be worth e. nickel, if I hung around here alone with the outside dotr unlocked. Don't you worry your pretty head over Mrs. Borden, child. She looks soft, but believe me—”

THE NEW Saint-Sinner ByJlrmeJlustin

Crystal Hathaway was a coward. Slie had never been able to endure the pain of even a minor hurt without whimpering. Twice in her life she had fainted —once in the dentist’s chair before the lancet had even touched her swollen gum; again at the sight of blood trlcklinu from a cut finger. Te&iA of physical heroism were absolutely incomprehensible to her. And now the girl who could not bear even a little pain with decent fortitude was contemplating, between shudders of horror, an act which would result In excruciating pain, if not in death. As she stood on the table in Peter Holliday's shack, her trembling body supported by the hanging lamp which she clasped in her amis. Crystal Hathaway's whole life passed in rapid review before her mind's eye. She saw herself as a morbidly sensitive little girl, desperate for love and unaccountably unpopular. She saw herself as a college girl, bitterly alone, humiliatingly a failure until Tony Tarver had taken her up, forced her upon ’ the crowd.” She was no earthly good, she wailed in her heart. A coward, a failure, a criminal! There was only one way to make sure that no arrests would follow her “rescue” — and she was too cowardly to take that way ... No, there was another way . . . She could go back to Stanton, confess everything to the police and to Faith and Bob. . . . “No, not that!” Crystal moaned. “I'd rather suffer any pain than to do that! Maybe if I hurt myself badly enough, God will forgive me for hav. ng been so wicked. Maybe—mayle I'll not hate myself so much, if I prove I have the courage to hurt myself to save someone else.” | jgj -

BENNY SMITH'S noisy arrival cut short whatever confidence Harry Borden may have been about to make. The employer spoke curtly to the office boy: "Well, Benny, about time you were drifting back! Been shooting craps in the alley again?” "No, sir,” the boy mumbled, flushing darkly. “They was a long line at the stamp window.” “There’s always a long line at the stamp window when you go to the postoffice,” Borden agreed sarcastically. “Listen—and get this through your thick head: I want you to go to my apartment and pick up a couple of bags that my man has packed for me. Take them to the station, check them and bring me the checks. And make it snappy—hear?” Borden passed into his private office, but almoot immediately reappepred. "Bring in the letters you have finished, Ruth. I’ll sign them now, and Benny, you’d better hold down this office until Miss Lester comes back. “I don’t want it to be left unattended. No telling who’ll stroll in. I’m expecting Adams this morning, and if he comes in, tell him to wait.” At Borden’s first use of her Christian name Ruth flushed with resentment, but she obediently gathered up the finished correspondence and followed Borden into the private office, but not before she had caught the look of sullen hatred with which Benny was glaring at his employer’s back. So Benny had noticed that casually dropped "Ruth” too, and was resenting it passionately. , . . "Guess I’m sort of nervous today,” Borden confessed, with a wry grin. “A week-end at Wintei Haven will do me good. . . . Who was that chap that came in this morning, ali het up over losing money on some of my stock?” he asked suddenly. “He wouldn’t give me his name,” Ruth answered. “He insisted on seeing you personally—said he would be back. I dealt with him as tactfully as I could—” ~ "Tact and efficiency are your long suits, aren’t they, child?” Borden smiled. "Draw your chair around to this side of tne desk. We’d better go over the figures in this letter to Nathan. I’m not sure I’m going to let him hold me up for a bigger commission. Looks confoundedly like blackmail to me.” * * u THERE was nothing for Ruth to do but to obey. She dragged her chair from its usual place at the big flat-tepped desk opposite Borden, and placed it where Borden indicated, with a pointing finger—so close to his own chair that the legs almost touched. “Look!” he pointed to the letter under his large, well-manicured hands. "Wouldn’t you think that was a big enough commission for any fly-by-night like Nathan to make?” Ruth leaned forward and peered through her spectacles. Borden laughed suddenly. "Bet you could see better without those goggles, Ruth! Come! I'm going to take ’em off for you. "I’ll bet a hundred dollars your eyes are just the right shade of blue to go with these yellow curls of yours,” and his hands reached out, were about to lay hold upon the last item of the girl's disguise, which men of Harry Borden’s type had made necessary, if she was to be allowed to work in peace. Ruth’s head jerked back, her small hands going up to hold his back. "Please, Mr. Borden! The light really hurts my eyes,” she lied frantically. Then somehow' she was out of her chair, and Borden’s left arm was about her shoulders, as his right hand reached determinedly for the spectacles. "A hundred times, afterwards, she reproached herself bitterly for the scream that tore out of her throat. After all, he was only trying, halfjokingly, to take her glasses off. . . . But as hls flushed face almost touched hers, and his eyes glittered with something more than laughter, she lost control of nerves which had

With sudden resolution, which had something exultant and almost divine about it, Crystal turned loose the lamp, shut her eyes and, without giving herself time again to suffer in anticipation the pain she was about to inflict upon herself—dived from the table, straight toward the log of wood. Her body crashed to the floor. She had not miscalculated. Her head struck the sharp, rough end of the log. Asa jagged, lightning streak of pain shot through her head, Crystal had time to realize with infinite gratitude, that the wound she had inflicted upon herself was above her forehead, where the scar would not show. Then came unconsciousness, rather slowly, on heaving waves of nausea. Crystal never knew how long she lay there on the floor of the shack. When she regained consciousness and dragged her body, dizzily, to a sitting position, she saw that the candle had burned itself out and that only a few T red embers were left of the fire in the grate. With infinite labor, because of recurring attacks of nausea, the girl managed to roll and push into the fireplace the log upon which she had cut her head. Exhausted, she lty beside the hearth, her eyes watching dully as the embers ignited the bark of the log. At last she became aware that her face was wet, that something was trickling steadily down her cheek. She raised her hand; her fingers came away dripping with blood. And then Crystal laughed, weakly but proudly. She was not afraid of the sight of blood any more! (To Be Continued.)

been curiously taut all morning—and screamed. “What are you trying to do, you little devil?—arouse the building? —make them think I’m murdering you?” Borden demanded furiously. “Look! That chap’s getting an eyeful across the airshaft and—get out of here and stay out, or I’ll knock those pop eyes of yours out of your head!” Ruth, who had obeyed his command to look, and who was taking a staggering, uncertain step toward Jack Hayward, framed in the opposite window and being forcibly restrained by another man from leaping through It, thought at first that Borden’s last furious sentence was directed at her. But Benny’s voice from the doorway told her the truth. "If you’re hurting Miss Lester, I’ll—I’ll—” Benny was sputtering, his fists clenched. "Get out, and mind s'our own business! You, too!” Borden added viciously, nodding furiously and gesticulating toward Jack Hayward, who was calling out something in a rage-strangled voice. "Sit down again. Miss Lester,” he added, more normally. "And keep your confounded glasses on, if you’re so crazy about them. Where’s that letter to my lawyer?” Before she obeyed, Ruth turned toward the window ag. in, shaking her head slightly and laying her fingers against her lips. Then, trembling, she sat down and was not again molested while Borden signed the letters. nutt "npELL that fool office boy to go .1 on to m3 T apartment for my bags,” Borden reminded her gruffly. Then,' "I’m sorry, Miss Lester, but I can’t see why ycu kicked up such a fuss. Didn’t mean any harm.” "It’s—all right, Mr. Borden,” Ruth said meekly. “And—l’m sorry I screamed. I’m—easily frightened." And indeed she w'as sorry she had screamed, for now the blight on her perfect happiness had been communicated to Jack Hayward. But her remorse then over having "kicked up a fuss” was nothing to compare with the agony of selfreproach which was to come to her j later. . . . She found Benny Smith at her desk, bending over the pulled-out bottom drawer. “What are you doing, Benny?” she demanded sharply. “You must keep out of my desk!” "Looking for a towel,’* the boy muttered. Then, tensely: "Listen, Ruth, if that guy gees fresh with you again—” "Hush, Benny!” Ruth cut short his threat. “Run along to his apartment now for his bags. I can take care of myself, Benny It’s sweet of you to mind but I don’t want you to lose your job on my account” she added gently. The boy closed the bottom drawer of her desk and snatching up his overcoat and cap, strode out of the office, fancying himself, Ruth reflected tenderly, every inch a man, and—what’s more—a man in love! "Oh, I wish I hadn’t screamed!” she told herself disgustedly. The door had scarcely closed upon Benny when It opened to admit Car] Adams, one of Borden’s dapper, collegiate young ctock salesmen. Few of the men worked on Saturdays, since it was a half holiday. "Hullo, Miss Lester. Saw Benny at the elevator. What’s this about you and Borden? Benny seemed to think you might need protection. And I don't wonder. . . . "Why, the scared little bunny has turned into a beauty! , . . Greetings, chief!” the salesman broke off his confidential compliments and hailed his employer jovially. "Come on In, Adams,” Borden answered grimly. “Bring me Adams’ sales record, Miss Lester, please.” Except for an unimportant telephone call or two, Ruth was allowed to finish her letters in peace. It was ten minutes after one when the flushed, angry-eyed young man jerked out of the office, and twenty minutes past when Ruth, the last letters signed and stamped, hurried to the elevator o keep her overdue appointment with Jack Hayward. She had telephoned biro. In a guardedly low voice, that she would be a little late, and she knew that he would be waiting. ... If only she hadn’t screamed, so that nothing but joy could have entered into the rest of this day. . . . (To be continued) Trouble ahead for Ruth and Jack Hayward. Read the next chapter. Court Decrees Man Dead Bit Times Special PORTLAND, Ind., Feb. 2.—Richard J. Miller has been declared legally dead by Judge Frank Gillespie of Jay circuit court. Miller disappeared fifteen years ago and nothing was ever heard from or about him. The action to declare him dead was taken so an estate could be closed. He was an heir of Sarah Jane Whipple, but never appeared to claim his $1,500 share of her estate. Asks SIO,OOO Ater Fall Bir Times Special MUNCIE, Ind., Feb. 2.—'Wilbur Powell, Winchester, asks SIO,OOO damages from George Challis, “Wysor Grand theater manager, as a result of injuries. Powell alleges that on Sept. 7 last, while attending the ; theater, he fainted and fell to a sidewalk from a door leading off the balcony where he had been seated. He alleges the theater was overcrowded at the time and the door unguarded and unmarked. Sues for SIO,OOO Alimony Bit Times Special ANDERSON, Ind., Feb. 2.—Alimony of SIO,OOO is asked in the divorce suit of Mrs. Maggie A. Woolums against William Woolums, grocer. Excessive use of liquor is alleged against the husband, the suit charging he has been drunk for the last six weeks. Orphans' Cow Wins Bv Timet Special TERRE HAUTE, Ind., Feb. 2. Queen, a cow belonging to boys at the Rose Orphans Home here, produced more butter fat than any other cow in Vigo county during December, the report of R. H. Smith, tester, shows.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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THE BOOK OP KNOWLEDGE

Class is a compound of several substances, chief of which is silica. Silica is the largest and most important part of quartz, and therefore of sand. Forms of soda, lime, lead and potash are added to the sand, and the mixture is shoveled into a pot or tank in an intensely hot furnace. After several hours the mixture becomes thick like tar. 3 } Vftr we*. af TV, of CyriM.

By Ahern

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Chemists in the large factories now measure exactly the ratio of sand to the other materials needed. This workman is fixing a batch.

OUT OUR WAY

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SKETCHES BY BESSEY. SYNOPSIS BY BBAUCHER

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PAGE 11

—By Williams

—by Martin

Bv Blosser

By Crane

By Small

By Cowan