Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 88, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 August 1929 — Page 8

PAGE 8

OUT OUR WAY

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CHAPTER XXXVl—(Continued) "Well, anyhow, I’m sure he’s not In love with her! Why, it’s dreadful, Red, to talk as if Jack were a squaw man! There’s nothing on earth worse than a male gold digger.. And Jack’s the furthest thing from that, I know.” "It looks mighty funny,” grumbled Red. "So do lots of things look funny. Maybe it looked funny when you and I went to St. Petersburg together. For heaven’s sake, be charitable!” Red grinned. He had an engaging grin. "Well,” he drawled. “I just hated to see a slick city feller do our Nell wrong. I thought maybe I ought to tip you off.” “Don’t worry about me!” she flashed. ‘‘l can take care of myself all right.” "Sure you can.” he agreed. “I don't know any girl can do that little thing any better." Molly turned the pages of one of her reference books. “Red, dear,” she said, “I'm Just burning up to get after my tragic lovers. Would you mind awfully, if I sent you away? I feel so exactly like writing tonight, that it’s a shame to only sit and talk.” She had grown pale, and there were dark shadows under her eyes. Red was more observing than she knew. “Pretty hard hit.” he decided. “Poor kid. It's a darn shame.” “Come around tomorrow if you like,” she was saying, “and I'll have Mary bake you an apple pie.” “Why sure.” he said. “But let me make you some coffee before I go, will you? You’re looking sort of ragged, old thing. Pep you up a bit, lw you’re going to be up all night.” Honestlv, Red, I don’t feel like It.” “Do you mind if I make some for myself? Have a cup with me, like a good girl,” he coaxed. a a a SHE turned to him gratefully. “Dear Red! I’ll drink coffee or arsenic, if it will make you happy. But don’t get feeling sorry for me. Jack and I broke up long ago. He patted her hand sympathetically. “It’s a hell of a world,” he declared. “Run along and make your coffee." she admonished. “And there are crackers and cheese around somewhere. Bring them s in, when you come. And see if you can find some guava jelly." Red rummaged around the pantry and fixed a tray clumsily. Measured his coffee carefully, and the water, and carried the percolator Into the drawing room. Molly lay on her crazy cubist j sofa, with her head buried in the pillows, crying her heart out. “Molly! Molly dear!” Red set his tray on the floor, and the percolator beside it, and put his arms about her. “Poor little girl! Want me to smash his head, Molly?” She shook her head against his chest, laughing through her tears. “Oh no, Red. I’m crazy about his head, dear." “He’s broken your heart—that's what he’s done." “Broken my heart, nothing!" she; contradicted. “I'm just tired, that's *ll. I’m a poor, weak woman, and fye had a hard day.” “Well. Well. ’Atta baby. Poor li’l baby.” He patted her hair awkwardly. And she drew his clumsy fingers to her mouth, and kissed them. “Dear little girl,” he murmured. He slipped his fingers beneath her chin, and tilted back her head. Then he kissed her on the mouth. He had mn <r kissed her that way j before. She tried to draw away. But he drew her closer. She trembled for a moment in his embrace. They were like that when the door opened. And, turning guiltily, they faced Bob. He was in evening clothes, with an opera hat in his hand. He looked rather like the villain in a play. Pale and disheveled. He walked toward them unsteadily, with his arm raised. “You’re drunk, old man!” exclaimed Red. “Watch what you’re doing.” “Drunk!” Bob swayed. “Os course drunk, a fellow’s got to be drunk

or crazy, when he comes to this house.” “Steady!” warned Red. “Don’t you ‘Steady’ me!” cried the intruder. “I saw you! You can’t ‘steady’ me.” “Don’t be an ass,” retorted Red coolly. “Anything you saw was quite all right.” a a a 808 hic-coughed. “Molly hasn’t been feeling well this evening,” explained Red. “So you kissed her, and made her all better,” mimicked Bob. Molly faced him angrily. “You told me you were on the wagon!” she accused. “You drive me to drink,” Vetored Bob. Red put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t argue with him, dear. He’s not in any condition to talk to.” “You remind me,” proclaimed Bob drunkenly, “of a few lines from Othello. Did you ever read Othello, Mr. Flynn?” Red made no answer. “Probably you didn’t,” continued Bob. “So the classical reference is lost upon your lesser intelligence. The lines, however, will convey their own significance. Othello spoke them, when lago told him that Desdemona had been untrue. “‘I had rather be a toad,’ he said, ‘and live upon the vapor of a dungeon, than keep a comer in the thing I love for ther’s uses.’ ” Bob sat down, placing his hat on his stick, and holding it teeteringly between his hands. “I came here tonight,” he proclaimed, “to ask Molly to marry me. But I have decided I would rather be a toad.” “That’s all right by us,” offered Red. ‘Go ahead—be a toad.” “It was dreadful of you to come here like this, Bob!” protested Molly. “You didn’t expect me to make any little Informal calls,” he taunted “when you gave me that key, did you?” “I did think you had a little chivalry!” she flared. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Molly,” repeated Red. “I’ll throw him out on his ear if you say so, dear.” “You lay a hand on me,” proclaimed Bob thickly, “and I’ll take my daughter out of this—this den of iniquity!” Molly laughed good-naturedly. “Den of iniquity!” she cried. ‘‘Oh, Bob, you’re funny. What do you think you are—a hero in a melodrama?” "Want to know what I think?” he demanded insolently. “I think you’re a fine woman to have the bringing up of an innocent child—that’s what I think!” a a a MOLLY began to cry. “You’ve a perfectly horrid mind. Bob Newton,” she sobbed “Just as if I didn't 1-love R-Rita to d-death.” Red’s face flushed hotly. “You’ve a nerve, Newton, to talk to Molly like that! Where would you and your innocent child be, if it wasn’t for her? Molly’s been a perfect angel to Rita, and you know it. I’ve a darn good mind to knock your head off for talking to her like that.” Red's anger mounted. “And what’s more,” he announced, “I'm going to do it.” As he stepped toward Bob, Molly threw herself into his arms. “Oh, please. Red! He Isn’t responsible for what he’ i i saying. Don't—don’t start anything. Please, Red! You’ll wake Rita, dear.” “I won't make any noise,” he muttered. “I’ll knock him cold, and he won’t let a peep out of him.” Bob had risen unsteadily to his feet. He put his hat on jauntily, and grasped his stick firmly. “Come on!” he challenged “Bob! Youll wake Rita! What’s the matter with you? Are you crazy?” Molly issued commands like a field marshal. “Get out of here this instant This is my house, and I shan’t have you here, when you’ve been drinking. Quickly now, or I'll call the police. I'm serious. Bob. I mean every word I say. If you don't leave this minute, I shall telephone station 16, and have you arrested Go now—before Red murders you. Do you hear me?” “Red murder me!” marveled Bob

—By Williams

drunkenly. “Red couldn’t murder me, Molly. He’s not the size.” “If you don’t go now,” she told him evenly, “you’ll see whether he’s the size or not.” There would be trouble in a moment. Bob’s hand was reaching unsteadily toward a lamp on the table back of the divan. A heavy thing, with a marble base, and a fluted paper shade. CHAPTER XXXVII “T OOK out, Red!” JL 4 Molly flung herself on Bob. “You coward you! You . . . you! Furiously she struck him on the chest with her clenched fists. “You get out of my house this minutes, you big coward!” Bob staggered backward as she pushed him toward the door. He dropped his stick and his hat, and tried clumsily to recover them. But Molly had stooped, as he blundered about, and threw them contemptuously ahead of him, into the hall. “Take your old stuff, and get out of my house. And don't you ever come back here, as long as you live!” Bob began to blubber. • “I want my baby,” he sobbed. “I want my baby.” “Stop your nonsense!” (retorted Molly sharply. “Or I’ll call a policeman.” She slammed the door on him angrily. “You should have let me take just one swing at him, dear,” grumbled Red. “Oh, I don’t know,’ ’she protested. “Don’t you think I did pretty well myself? Look!” She pointed a shaking finger. “See that lamp, Red. He tried to throw it at you. My goodness, he’d have killed you. It weighs a ton.” “Well, well, little life saver.” He patted her shoulder affectionately. “Well put you on the lists for a Carnegie medal, Sweetness. . . . Say, what do you think? Had I better go throw the boy friend in a taxi?” “Oh, leave him alone,” she commanded. “If he steps in front of one, it’ll serve him right. If he’s going to drink all the time, Red, I could petition for sole custody of Rita, couldn’t I? If I could prove him an unfit parent, and show that the child’s mother left her in my care—honestly I believe I could get her for my own!” “Molly’s eye sparkled excitedly. “Do you think there’s a chance?” she demanded. ‘Oh, Red, it would make me so happy!” ‘But, listen, old thing” he protested. “Rita’s his kid. You can’t take a man’s child away from him like that.” “But he isn’t a fit parent!” she cried. (To Be Continued.) Athlete Joins Navy JONESBORO, Ind., Aug. 22.—Truman Pearson, member of the 1929 Jonesboro high school class and an outstanding basketball player on the school teams, has enlisted in the United States Navy and has been sent to San Diego, Cal., for duty.

TARZAN OF THE APES

It was a well-laden Tarzan who dropped into the midst of Kerchak’s tribe. With swelling chest he narrated the glories of his adventures and exhibited the spoils of conquest. Kerchak was jealous of this strange member of his tribe. He sought some excuse to wreak his hatred upon Tarzan.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS .AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS IT

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SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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A month Tarzan practised with his bow and arrows. During this time he further Investigated the cabin, and found the metal box containing his father’s # diary, some photographs, find a diamond locket. This took his fancy. He placed it about his neck, in imitation of the black men he had visit^L.

—By Martin

SftY, KID, IF I KEEP RIGHT ON THIS "N ”’ . ' Road long- enough, can ya tell ) NOriE. I fAE WHERE IT'U_ TAKE , cyv. .t 7 ,

When his arrows were gone, Tarzan renewed the supply, repeating his former pranks while the natives were enjoying a cannibal feast. They were filled with fear at this new manifestation of some unseen, unearthly evil power. Returning homeward, Tarzan encountered Sabor, the lioness, and sent an arrow into her.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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Removing the great pelt, he hastened to the tribe, who gathered to see this new proof of his wondrous prowess. Only Kerchak hung back—nursing his hatred and rage. Suddenly something snapped in Kerchak’s brain. He sprang biting and killing among the assembly. “Come down, Tarzan,” he cried, “come down and fight!”

'weII.,THANKS, OUST TU* sake:— Ppv I ) ',l BUT, LI SEEN HERB, Young-FELLA U STENfM’! TH’.NETT TIME YA ANSWER. A GENTLE.(AAN. ) DON'T SAY NO'— SAY NO,SIR!

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Breathlessly the tribe watched as Kerchak, roaring, charged the relatively puny figure. Tarsan tore loose his knife and drove it into Kerchak—below the heart! They struggled long. Then the great body shuddered, stiffened—sank limply. Kerchak was dead. Thus came the young Lord Greystoke into the KINGSHIP OF THE APES.

.AUG. 22, 1929

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

’rane

-By Small

—By Taylou