Indianapolis Times, Volume 40, Number 265, Indianapolis, Marion County, 26 March 1929 — Page 11

MARCI 26, 1929_

HEAVY TOLL OF LIFE, PROPERTY IN SNOWSLIDES At least Four Are Killed by 30 Avalanches in Colorado. B;i United Press LAKE CITY, Colo., March 26. Snowslides on the western slope of the Rocky Mountains in Colorado have taken a toll of at least four lives, marooned several villages, and inflicted extensive damage to mining properties and communication systems. Although the region is sparsely populated, fears were expressed today that when all of the affected area has been heard from, the toll of life and property may be even * greater. Except for a few railroad telegraph wires, one of which was Lake City's only contact with the outside world, all the telephone and telegraph wires in the western and southwestern part of the state were torn down by the slides. Thaw Causes Slides Starting fro ma thaw that followed an unusually heavy snowfall over the week-end, upward of thirty avalanches have crashed down the mountains, gathering in their descent rock and timber, and the winter's accumulation of snow on the lofty peaks. One of the slides struck the camp of the Empire Chief Mining Company, toppling bunkhouses and work shacks into Hensen creek and burying almost a score of sleeping workers. Two persons to escape were the camp’s two cooks. Despite the danger from recurring slides they liberated several men. Then the men and women started digging together at huge piles of snow and rescued alive Gerald Strayer and Erik Anderson of Lake City. The men were unconscious and almost frozen, but they will recover. Towns Are Isolated The survivors next recovered the bodies of four men who had been killed by the slide. They are: W. S. Wickersham, Montrose; A. S. Coler, Denver; A. T. Johnson, Denver, and A. G. Cutting, Glenwood Springs. Zero weather impeded the work of restoring communication with the marooned town of Silverton today, which was imprisoned for the third time this winter. A slide in Animas canyon blocked Silverton's sole railroad inlet, a nar-row-gage Denver and Rio Grande Western track, and two feet of snow, blown into huge drifts in places, made traffic on mountain highways out of the question. In the San Luis valley, Creede, Walsenberg and La Veta were accessible only on snowshoes. Railroad service was being maintained to Durango, but schedules were greatly disrupted. EGG PRODUCTION GROWS Crop in U. S. Worth $571,938,492 Annually. By Science Service WASHINGTON, March 26.—The biddy hens of the country are giving the Easter Bunny splendid support, so that there will be plenty of eggs for everybody on Easter morning. The season of greatest egg production is just starting and the new eggs are now coming in with no present indications of any shortage in the supply, declared officials of the United States bureau of agricultral ecor omics. In one year in the United States 1.913.245,129 dozen eggs were produced, with a total value of $571,938,492. The greatest supply is produced in the eastern north central and western north central states. Spring and summer is the period of greatest production and consequently the period when the surplus is stored. NEW BANKS CHARTERED Two Institutions Will Be Opened at BlufTton. Bn Times Sited it BLUFFTON, Ind.. March 26. This city is to have two new' national banks, charters lor which have been granted by the comptroller at Washington. The new institutions are backed by the Old National and the First National Bank and Trust Company banks of Ft. Wayne. Each will be capitalized at SIOO,OOO and start with surpluses of $50,000 each.

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(Continued From Page One) imminent danger of someone being pushed off the platform onto the tracks below. “That's my fur,” Mildred managed at last to gasp, and reached out a hand to take it. “Sorry, miss,” the officer said; “you’ll have to come along with us to the station and claim your property.” “Oh,” Mildred wailed, “I’m late now.” “You’ll come too,” the officer said, turning to a young man beside him. Mildred had not, until then, looked at anyone except the officer and his prisoner. She recognized the young man now. “Did you catch him?” she asked breathlessly. “Os course,” he answered to both of them. “But how did you do it?” she pressed as he helped her to make a way through the crowd to the street. “Weren’t you on the train?” “Couldn’t have been if I caught him, could I? Don’t you believe me?” “Oh yes, of course.” The crowd thrust them closer together. Mil-, dred looked up at him with awe. “I’m aw'fully glad. But liow did you do it?” The young man threw out his chest. “Well, old D. A. M.—no, it’s not a word, just initials—says I might amount to something if I could take my mind off the sports page. You see, I missed the train because I started reading about hockey. Then I saw this yegg grab a fur ...” “And you stopped him?” Mildred broke in, her voice filled with admir-ation.-"Of course you didn’t know whose fur it was,” she asked with a tiny trace of wistfulness. It would have been nice to have inspired heroism, she thought. “Didn’t I though?” the young man lied beautifully. He was asking himself how the deuce he’d missed seeing in the first place what a peach of a girl he’d crashed into. They had reached the street now, in the wake of the officer with the fur thief squirming in his grasp. “Let’s take a taxi,” the young man with Mildred said suddenly to the guardian of the law. “I’ll pay for it.” “Right,” the officer responded and held up a commanding hand. an MILDRED was glad to escape from the curious throng that had followed them. But she did not like the W'ay the fur snatcher, who sat beside the officer, facing them, flicked his evil eyes over her figure. She turned her glance from his ugly face and sat over a little closer to the man next her. “Why, there’s a dreadful scratch on your cheek,” she exclaimed, and her eyes flew back accusingly to the other. His mouth twisted in evidence of some inward satisfaction. “He put up a stiff fight,” the hero immodestly proclaimed and started to apply a handkerchief to his wound. “Here,” Mildred cried and thrust one of her own upon him. She had noticed that his was not irreproachably clean. He grinned at her as he took the hemstitched square she offered him. , “Whatever do you do with your handkerchiefs?” she asked scoldingly. “Polish automobiles.” “Polish automobiles?” “Yes, you see I believe in bigger and better polishes. Seriously, I sell automobiles and I hate the fingermarks people leave all over them.” “But can’t ; ou find something else to remove them?” “Absent-minded, that me. Old D. A. M. says ...” “Who is D. A. M.?” “The big boss. D. A. Mettle of Mettle’s Agency for the fastest eight in the country.” “Why, I know who he is,” Mildred told him excitedly. “Do you work for the Mettle Agency?” “Well, he has enjoyed my services for several months, but there are i moments . . .” “Your place is near mine,” Mil- | dred said on his unended sentence. “Is that so?” The young man was instantly interested. The officer grinned slightly under cover of their oblivion to himself and his prisoner. “My name’s Armitage, Stephen Armitage,” the young man went on. “Os course I can find a name for you, but for practical purposes perhaps you’d better tell me what you’re generally called.” “Miss Lawrence. I’m the public stenographer at the Judson.” “Now isn't that a coincidence. Miss Lawrence? I was planning to take some work over to the J idson in the

j morning. Some stenographic work.” Mildred flashed him a glance of suspicion. “Surely Mr. Mettle’s stenographers can do your work,” she observed coldly. He might as well get her right, she thought. Her position at the hotel was a good one, the best she’d ever had and she took it seriously. “Seme private matters,” the young man returned loftily, and before Mildred could frame an answer to that the taxicab had stopped at the police station. n tt a THE routine they had to go through was shortly o.ver with and Mildred once more was in possession of her scarf. “That’s a nice bit of fur,” Stephen remarked when they were back on the street. “Don’t you think I'd better see you home so that it won’t get stolen again?” ”I’ll take better care of it after this,” Mildred assured him. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you’ve done already.” “Unless I know you get safely home with it I won’t feel I’ve done anything,” he protested. “And since we’re going to see a lot of each other in the future don’t you think that we might . . “I must telephone mother,” Mildred interrupted. “She’ll be worrying.” “Here’s a cigar store right on the corner. What’s the number, please?” Mildred had to smile at his ingenuousness. “I’d better do it,” she demurred. “A strange voice might frighten them. Mother’s always nervous when I’m late.” Stephen beamed. “So they are not used to strange voices calling?” he said happily. “Not when I’m away,” Mildred replied teasingly. "Your favorite pastime is bursting bubbles, isn’t it?” Stephen reproached her. “And you’re ungrateful, too. You have a home and a mother and I have only a hotel room. Besides, I’ need someone to look after this scratch. I’m sure your mother could fix it up.” He touched his cheek gingerly and pretended to wince. Mildred was concerned. “Well,” she said hesitantly, "we live very simply. Mother isn’t often prepared for unexpected company. In fact, I don’t think there will be much dinner now, but if you care to take potluck . . .” “Potluck! Why, potluck is what’s at the end of the rainbow. And to a fella whose home is out in Indiana and who hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in six months, your kind invitation sounds like the trumpet call to a feast.” “I don’t know how mother will receive you,” Mildred warned him “when she learns that you’re a perfect stranger to me.” “Ah, thanks for the adjective. It makes it easier to be called a stranger.” # # tt “twRESH, aren’t you?” Mildred •Jr took him to task. Suddenly he changed. “No, really I’m not, Miss Lawrence, and I think it’s great of you to let me go home with you even if I have sort of forced the invitation. But I don’t see any sense in wasting a lot of time getting acquainted when you know who I am and I know who you are. ...” “But I don’t really know who you are?” “Sure you do. You know I couldn’t be with the Mettle Agency if . . . well, don’t you see, that’s a recommendation, though honesty compels me to admit old Dam—l beg your pardon—old D. A. M. doesn’t always agree with my point of view.” Mildred nodded. “Well, you seem determined to meet mother. Come along and let’s phone. But when I tell her I’m bringing a man home to dinner that I didn’t know an hour ago, she’s going to have an old-fashioned moment, I’m afraid.” “]*m all for the modern kid, myself,” Stephen declared. “Lots of pep and knows how to play an old game anew way.” Mildred looked at him. He saw the question in her eyes. “Getting what you want,” he explained. “That’s what people ahvays have been doing. Only the girls are franker about it now. The way I feel, if a girl liked me I’d O. K. her letting me know it. We fellows are finding out that we haven’t got all the original ideas by any means. We appreciate a lead or two to save time.” Mildred felt uneasy. She hoped he wouldn’t talk like that in her mother's hearing. Os course she understood h’m. She heard a lot of such modern opinions. But they shocked her mother. “Well don’t let Connie know you’re looking for leads,” she laughed, “or

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she’ll have you naming the date before dinner.” They were back at the subway now. “Well change for an express at Seventy-second street,” she said, “I told mother we'd hurry.” a a a WHEN they left the train Mildred stopped at a delicatessen store and made a few r purchases which Stephen wanted to pay for and was not allowed. “You’ll have to carry them up four flights of stairs to pay for your dinner,” she told him. “Four flight of stairs! Why, my dear girl, I take a walk to the moon and back every time I’m feeling happy.” The stairs were somewhat narrow and not very well lighted but that did not seem to put a damper on the young man’s spirits. Mildred was glad of the dimness; it hid the dirty handmarks on the walls and the uncleaned corners of the stairs. Her mother welcomed them with poorly concealed agitation. She wondered what any young man would think of her daughter in these circumstances. In her day . . . “Did you cook the chops?” Mildred whispered in her ear when she kissed her mother. “There’s only one,” the mother whispered back; “but it’s got kidney. I wouldn’t let Connie have it. She had it last time.” “This is the young man who saved my fur for me, mother. Mr. Armitage.” “Pleased to meet yea, Mr. Armitage.” She gave him a welcoming hand that fqjt rough to his touch but had a sincerity in its pressure that left a pleasant feeling in Stephen’s memory. He knew the difference oetween genuine friendliness and the glad hand. Well, usually he made a good impression. Someone once told him it was his curly blond hair that awoke a maternal instinct in the women-he met. Why men liked him no one had as yet told him. “The conquering hero comes,” a voice mocked from the living room doorway. “I’ve a notion to break my jd^te.” “For goodness sake, Connie,” the mother snapped. “Mr. Armitage will think you don’t Know how to behave.” “You must excuse me a moment,” Mildred said and left her mother to cope with the incorrigible Connie. A few minutes to get into a simple lilac chiffon dress, a few magic touches before the mirror to hair and complexion and Mildred was ready to entertain her guest. She found Connie lighting a cigaret for Stephen, perched on the arn of his chair. Mildred knew it wasn’t a studied pose. Connie was far beyond her posing in her strides toward modernism. She let herself follow instincts and act on impulses. If she wanted to sit on the arm of a chair—anyone’s chair—she sat on it. She wasn’t bent on mischief, however, and when Mildred appeared, she went out to the kitchen, ostensibly to help her mother. In reality, to rave about Stephen. “If only Mildred had a little more snap,” she remarked, “she might be able to hold him. But I doubt it. Pity.” “Connie. Aren’t you ashamed the way you.talk?” her mother reproved her. “Mildred is simply being nice to a young man who was of service to her. But I'd rather she hadn’t got acquainted with him so easily. He might think she isn’t very particular. . .” n n ft CONNIE laughed. “And how you know men, mom. As though any man would criticise a girl for picking him up. Some other fellow', now—that’s different.” “Go set the table and don’t talk so much. You’ll learn a lot some day, miss,” her mother answered irritably. “Well,” Connie said to herself a moment later, glancing into the living room, “maybe there are more ways than one of getting your man.” Mildred was applying an antiseptic lotion to the scratch on Ste-

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phen’s cheek and he seemed to like her ministrations. Just then the telephone rang. Connie went to answer it. Most of j the calls came in were for her. “Hey, Mildred, it's for you,” she yelled from the hall and put down the receiver with an impatient bang. “WouldnT it be just like Pamela Judson to call up when Mildred had anew boy friend!” Pamela’s unexpected calls and sudden demands upon Mildred’s time were bitterly resented by Connie, who considered that Pamela took advantage of her sister. Mildred had a foreboding of what was to come. “But I've only just got home,” Stephen heard her say. “I was delayed and I can't possibly go out again tonight. Can’t you get somebody else?” Evidently the person at the other end of the wire had plenty to say. It must have been convincing, too, for after a while Mildred agreed, wearily, to do whatever it was that Pamela needed her for. She came back to Stephen in a little flush of temper. He thought it most becoming to her. “I've got to go down to the hotel this evening,” she said apologetically. Stephen rose. “May I go with you?” he asked. “Oh, not before dinner,” she assured him. “There's plenty of time.” “Dinner’s ready now,” her mother called from the dining room. “Why dont you tell that pain in the neck to go to blazing. . . . “Connie!” Connie subsided. tt an “PAMELA wants me to be at the Jt door in the reception room tonight,” Mildred explained to her mother. “The junior dance. They don’t want anyone to crash it.” “But what can you do?” her mother questioned. “I know by sight all those who are invited,” Mildred said. “In, but not of, our best society,” Connie sniffed. “Well, it’s too bad she couldn’t have let you know before the last minute.” “Oh, Pamela never thinks of anything before the last minute,” Mildred said good-naturedly. She didn’t w'ant Stephen thinking they were catty. But if he just knew Pamela! “Arc you talking about Pamela Judson?” he asked and Milrded felt as though he had read her mind. “Say, I know her. Sold her a car last fall. Slie saw a model in the show window that she liked. Walked right in and signed her check and then asked how much.” “Yes, she’s just rolling in her father’s money,” Connie remarked sarcastically. “I’ll say she’s rolling in a lot of it when she takes that eight out,” Stephen said. “A four-speed baby, too.” “Wha at?” Mrs. Lawrence gasped. “Er 1 mean the car. Mrs. Lawrence. It takes some driving to handle four speeds.” Mildred got up to carry out their plates and bring in the dessert. Pamela wanted her early—there was always a lot Palmela wanted other people to do for her. Not that serving Pamela was any part of Mildred’s duties, but she had begun that way to be obliging. Now she had a feeling that if she refused, her place at the hotel would not be secure. So long as Pamela did not carry her demands too Car Mildred was willing to accede to them. But tonight she was slightly resentful. Stephen Armitage was good company. Her resentment prevented her from hurrying, but after they’d finished their coffee she said they must go. At the hotel, when she was saying good night to Stephen in the lobby, she saw his gaze go past her face and his smile suddenly broaden in delighted surprise. Mildred turned. Coming toward them, with a wave of jeweled arms and flying silver feet was a honeyhaired girl in a red tulle evening gown. (To Be Continued)

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COUNTY’S FIRST ‘PRISON TRAIN’ j ON WAY NORTH Eleven Men, Two Facing Life Terms, Start for Michigan City. BY C. E. CARLL EN ROUTE ON MARION ' COUNTY PRISON TRAIN, March 26.—With sentences of one year to life facing them, eleven prisoners were on their way to Indiana state prison today on Marion county’s first prison train. They joked chatted and laughed during the last five hours of “freedom,” before they went through the cell doors of the “big house” on Lake Michigan. The prisoners were loaded into a truck at the rear entrance of the comity jail this morning and taken to the Union station, each man manacled to a deputy sheriff. The decision to transport them to prison by train came after a conference between Criminal Judge James A. Collins and Sheriff George L. Winkler, who decided auto conveyance would be “too risky.” Leave on Monon Train The prisoners are riding on the Monon train in a special coach that departed from Indianapolis at 7:45 a. m. At Hammond this afternoon they left the train and boarded a special car on the Lake Shore electric lines that was taking them to Michigan City. Sheriff Winkler took precautions to prevent Chicago gangsters from making any attempt to raid the party at Hammond. Lawrence (Larry Gherc, 24, Chicago, who pleaded guilty to the charge of murdering Wilkinson Haag, local druggist, at the Green Mill barbecue May 17, 1926, held the spotlight. After pleading guilty, he walked into Prosecutor Judson L. Stark’s office and te'd his story of gangsters and labeled himself a “diamond racketeer.” He even admitted that he has been “sorry about the shooting ever since it happened.” With him w r as his pal, Rupert McDonald, 21, also from Chicago, found guilty last W'eek by a criminal court jury on a similar charge for the shooting. Pair Hold Conference McDonald denied he was at the Green Mill when Haag was shot and Ghere, on the witness stand and in Stark’s office, made the same assertion. For w'eeks McDonald and Ghere have w'hispered to each other at every opportunity and today they had the chance to confer for several minutes. Among the prisoners are James H. Brown, James E. Burke and Thomas Hindman; who drew long terms for the $6,000 Pettis Dry Goods store robbery Dec. 28, 1928. Brow'n faces two to fourteen years on conspiracy, as does Hindman, W'ho also has a view to twenty-one years sentence for auto banditry and conspiracy. Burke will serve five to twenty-one on a similar charge. Others in Car Other “passengers” on the journey are; Thomas J. Bristow, vehicle taking, one to ten years; Earl Sparks and August Cummings, each five to twenty-one years on auto banditry and burglary; James B. Allen, one to ten years, grand larceny; Charles R. Pelham, forgery, one to ten 3'ears, and Frank Rice, one year, secreting property.

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FIX MANAGER DINNER Solons Who Boosted Noll Bill Invited. Marion county legislators who supported the Noll city manager law amendment bill in the recent general a.‘sembly will be guests of the City Manager League at a dinner at the Sherman inn. Sherman drive and East New York street, April 5. Henry L. Dithmer. executive committee member and owner of thd * inn. will be host. Claude H. Anderson. chairman of the league’s campaign committee, announced. % Tli? event will mark beginning of a pj jgram of increased activity by city ■manager forces.

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