Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 163, Indianapolis, Marion County, 18 November 1929 — Page 12

PAGE 12

OUT OUR WAY

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/ INDIANAPOLIS | | K RtTONTURnek

BEGIN HERE TODAY MAIZIE BROWN writes this story for practice in a story-writing correspondence school course, never intending it to be published. She intersperse it with notes to her Instructor. She is confidential secretary of FRANK SHERIDAN, wealth young Indianapolis lawyer, whose hobby is the solving of crime mysteries. Sheridan is a guest at a dinner party given at her Maple road home by SrfELIA WILBER, daughter of WILLIAM OLIVER WILBER, Indianaapolls manufacturer and inventor. The dinner is in honor of two electrical experts who are negotiating for the purchase of Wilber's invention, anew type of electrl light. Other guests include JOSEPH SMEDLEY, assistant prosecuttor of Marlon county, Shelia's fiance, and ANDY MASTERS Shelia's wayward cousin, who is entangled in a love affair with MERCEDES RIVERTON, a stenographer in the office of HOMER MENTON. an unprincipled criminal lawyer. A few days Before the dinner party a safe in Wilber's experimental home laboratory Is looted and a dairy of Wilber's wife, now dead, stolen. The dairy holds a secret of Shelia's birth. Sheridan, In the role of amateur dectective, Is on the buglar's trail. Following the dinner, Wilber demonstrates his invention for the visiting experts. The invention consists of a small metal cylinder through which electric currents of varying Intensity are passed In the test. After al the dinner guests have departed except Smedley and Sheridan, LENA SWARTZ, a maid Is found dead on the laboratory floor by CLARA, the Wilber cook. Tne coroner finds death due to accidental electrocution. Sheridan, finding one of the switches mysteriously closed. Is not satisfied with the accident theory and starts his own investigation. He learns that RILEY MORGAN, a burlar whom he suspects of the safe robbery, had been a caller upon Lena on the fatal night. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE NOTE by Brown to her correspondence school instructor: It is necessary again to inject myself into this story, even if it does break the continuity and does violate your rules of technique. I want to explain that it is very difficult to record faithfully the part played by Edna Rogers in this drama of real life. Although he relates to me in detail all the other information he gathers and the deductions he makes as a result of his investigations, Mr. Sheridan is strangely reticent in regard to everything that touches Miss Rogers. I am compelled to resort to his own methods — a play cf imagination upon slender facts for a logical interpretation of events in which she figures. This will explain the rather sketchy treatment of her activities in the foregoing chapters. a a a IT was late in the day following the Wilber dinner party and its tragic climax that Mr. Sheridan put in his appearance at his office. Knowing he had attended the dinner, I was wild with excitement when I read in The Times the story of Lena Swartz's death. I knew intuitively that the whole story was not in that article. He must have sensed my seething curiosity, for when he came in he looked at me quizzically, smiled tantalizmgly and with a mere word of greeting, went directly into his own office—and closed the door! He delights in keeping me on pins and needles under such circumstance^. In a few minutes, however, he called to me and asked that I get Cfclck Severn on the phone. Severn is a young operative of a conservative private detective agency, whom Mr. Sheridan sometimes employs to make routine inquiries—to do his •'leg work,” as he calls it. I heard him tell Chick to check up on the caterer’s employes who had served the Wilber dinner. Then I was called in to the private office. My steps didn't lag. “Set your goggles firmly on your patrician nose, my dear Mazie, and lend me the treasure of your wise counsel,” he began banteringlv “This is a case in which two heads are better than one bewildered one'' I quivered in anticipation. Such an opening always means an interesting session. I was not kept waiting. He plunged at once imo the story of the Wilber tragedy and painted a vivid picture of tMe dinner, the dancing, the demonstration in the laboratory, the death of Lena, the coming of the doctor and the coroner, the reporters’ visit and the theories he discussed and argued with Smedley and Wilber. Each character in his telling stood out like a sharply cut cameo: every Incident of the evening that had come under his keen observation, every scrap of conversation, however trivial that he had overheard, was detailed, not so much for my benefit, I know, as to fix it all the more clearly in his own mind. He concluded with this summing up: "Six questions, each more cr less interdependent upon the others, clamor for answers. I have written them down.” He picked up a

sheet of paper from his desk blotter and read: “1. What motive took Lena into the laboratory? “2. Why did she meddle with the cylinder? “3. Did she or some other person turn on the electric current? “4. Was her death wholly accidental? “5. If murder was Intended, who was the selected victim, and what was the motive? “6. What connection, if any, was there between Lena's death and the stealing of Mrs. Wilber’s diary? “Answer those questions, Maizie, and everything will be as clear as daylight.” “I would suggest another,” I suggested: “What person would have cause or inclination to seek the life of any one who was at the Wilber home last ngiht?” “Good girl, Maizie!” he exclaimed delightedly. “That undoubtedly is our main line of inquiry until the murder theory is discarded. I already have taken some steps in that direction. “If anybody’s life was sought it was Wilber’s—that’s a cinch. Just before I left I had a long talk with Sheila. She is sure her father has no enemies. Without letting her know’what. I was driving at, I led her to talk of all the members of the household and all their close acquaintances. She told nothing of value until she touched on Andy Masters. Nosaround this afternoon after I left the Wilbers. I collected more information about that irresponsible youth.” Mr. Sheridan paused and looked at me intently. “He is the only logical suspect, barring the burglar and for the life of me I can’t see how Riley fits in.” “No,” I agreed, “if your surmise that Riley was there to steal the cylinder is correct, and he was employing Lena as a tool to that end, it is absurd to think that he even had been in the room, for had he been there he easily could have taken the cylinder without Lena’s help. “In any event, he would not have set a trap to kill someone; it would have defeated his very purpose, as it evidently did.” “Right” he replied, “I see I didn't pick such a dumb secretary, after all.” He laughed as I wrinkled my nose at him. “Nor is the case against Andy Masters very much better,” he went on seriously, “but it is the only lead we have. I have learned that no love is lost between Andy and his uncle. Wilber tolerates hirn only because of Sheila’s affection for him. "Andy once was under Wilber’s guardianship and they frequently clashed. Andy still resents certain disciplinary measures Wilber was compelled to take to keep him in the path of righteousness and In his cups he frequently has voiced his grudge to all and sundry.” He smiled as I shook my head. “Well, say it!” he laughed. “That’s not much to go on,” I said. “A boyish grudge isn’t sufficient motive for murder. In addition. you are looking for the perpetrator of a cold-blooded, premeditated murder, and Andy Masters is far from that type. A quick-tem-pered, self-willed boy easily could kill someone in a flash of passion, but ” “You've' picked the flaw,” he broke in. “but stranger things have happened. Do you remember that case of the meek.' little churchwoman, who wept at the sight of a crippled cat and was forever afield on errands of mercy, but who, day after <Jay, and week after week, put small doses of poison in her husband’s coffee and calmly watched him slowly die. so she could get his life insurance?” “I don’t rare.” I said stubbornly. “I’m sure Andy Masters never deliberately attempted to kill anyone.” “Perhaps you are right,” he conceded, “woman's intuition and all that, you know. However, I’m going to keep an eye ori young Masters’ movements. “Do you know a stenographer named Mercedes Riverton, employed by Homer Menton over in the First National Bank building?” “No.” "Well, neither do I. but I’m going to make her acquaintance this very afternoon. This Mercedes person, I

—Bv Williams

am told, is very thick with Andy Masters; they have cut quite a few high didos together. “If I play my hand right with her I may learn something to my advantage, as the want ads advertising for missing persons say. Get Homer Menton on the phone, if he’s in his office. Tell him—oh, anything—tell him he’s wanted right away in the county clerk’s office. I want to get him out of his office. I don’t want him around while I’m flirting with the lovely Mercedes.” As it happened, Mr. Menton was not in his office. A feminine voice informed me that he would not return that day and added: “Thank the Lord.” The field was clear. a a a SHERIDAN bolted out of his office and walked swiftly over to the First National Bank building. It was nearly 5 o’clock and he was fearful Mercedes would close the office and go home before he had a chance to see her. He took the elevator to the floor on which Menton’s office was located. As he stepped out of the lift, a man peered around a comer of the jeorridor, looked about him sharply, pulled his cap down over his eyes and shuffled rapidly past Sheridan toward the bank of elevator doors, Just as the \ red light announced the approach of a descending cab. % Sheridan whirled in his tracks. “Hey, you! he called, “wait a minute.” But his words were drowned out by the clang of the closing elevator door and the cab plunged down with its passenger. Sheridan punched the bell viciously and reached a hand into an inside pocket of his coat. He drew out a card on which was pasted a profile and full-face photos of a man—a rogue’s gallery picture. “The man with a limp,” he exclaimed. “Riley Morgan!” (To Be Continued) EL GRECO PAINTING IS FOUND IN WEST Work Valued at 575.000 Sold at §7.50 in Used Goods Store. rtV T'tiHed Prr.tH SAN FRANCISCO, Nov. 18.— What is believed to be an authentic El Greco painting, valued at between $50,000 and $75,000, has been discovered here. The discovery was made by George Barron, curator of the Golden Gate Park museum, when the painting, was brought to him by Clark Jonnson, who had purchased it in a second-hand store for $7.50. On first appearance, the painting appeared to be a poor attempt at depicting a Persian rajah. Barron put the painting through a process that removes one coat of paint without harming an older one underneath. When the process was completed, the Persian rajah had disappeared and instead was a painting of St. Francis of Assissi in an attitude of prayer.

THE RETURN OF TARZAN

The sun was just rising as Tarzan, with infinite labor and at considerable peril, descended the great cliffs. Far beneath him he saw smoke arising above the treetops “Man!” thought Tarzan, “perhaps the fifty who went forth to track me down.” He set off at a rapid trot across the valley. Cautiously he approached the tiny campfire. _ _

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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

'('LL GO OOWN AN’ CMECKThiMG-sA OKAY,CrU2Z'. ('LL COUNT" | < VYe.CoT 78 BO*es OF PRUNES, f<\ORNIN’, tfllsTcß HOWDY- O (W-RfE. “TAKIN (N Y£NTo(LY FVNO TTFPTC IH*Th’ BASE WENT, SAtA AN’YOU / EVERYTHING--AND THIS 3ofc> POUNDS OF SUGAR An’TWO WANT A CAM CF CORN WOULD vJS OFF OUR COUNT yS pdfe <*i’ KITTY CxE.T BUSY UP HERE.! JtS ONE CHECK THAT WON'T JARS OF JELLY-WAT NeCC? " //> —- fjr .. _ _ cone. back, on me.- n — '—in /// sorry. laoy,&ot \ // 7/ .. . _ ( TesT a second till //V, CAN'T SELLYA ANY v <. 1 ■'/ y \‘l too— -

MOM’N POP

WELL SIR,IT WOULD HAVE AMD WhEU IHCGRANDBADGEuV HINT O'CLOCKVa FINE. \ TWIS IS \f ITCLI'<OU ON A COMMITTEE BROTHER BADGER. IT SERVES DONE YOUR HEAUT GOOD, / SAID THE OLD LODGE WOULD -/ WE TO BE. BLOWING VN FPOTI THteND'H FROM OU LODGE TO CO TO THE L THE LAST TIME YOU PULIED-K HEAIGHT POD.THE VOTE WAS \ NEVER BE THE SAME / VNORK. T. SUPPOSE YOU HAP J \ TO SEE A SICK BROTHER ,\7 THAT ONE SHE TURNED ) FORTRAN’ UNANIMOUS AMD WHEN THEY) WITHOUT VOU .1 TELL YOU/ ;V TO GO SEE A SICH FRIEND / S— \_? OUT TOBE A SLONDE T'GET AYJAV

Squatting about were his black Waziri warriors. He called to them in their own language: “Arise my children and greet thy king! With exclamations of surprise and fear the warriors leaped to their feet. Tarzan dropped lightly from an overhanging branch into their midst and they almost went mad with joy to see him still affive.

—By Martin

Tarzan related his adventures and told them of the yellow metal he found. Also of his plans to return and bring away some of the vast treasure. So, when dusk fell on the desolate valley, they marched back to Opar. By midnight they had returned, each carrying a load of two gold ingots. At the end of thirty days they entered their own country.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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Bf eR- nou jaean you don'tS / \\oV4 DO \ KUOYl 1 A I -THINK THE. DAME KILV-tO ) *= r,iP\D IS MIST / Tt ouvee? then WHY / /

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Here Tarzan bade them break camp, leave the stacked gold, and return to their native village, their wives, and children “And you, Waziri?” they asked. “I shall remain here a few days, my children.” he replied. When they had gone, Tarzan gathered upjtwo of the gold ingots, sprang into a tree and ran lightly to a clearing, deeo within the Jungle, "

NOV. 18,*7f929

—By Ali%ni

*—By Blossei;

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Taylor