Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 179, Indianapolis, Marion County, 6 December 1929 — Page 28

PAGE 28

OUT OUR WAY

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Charmer h- \ VIDA HUHJ^T

When Jacqueline Bordini, famous movie star, returns to the little town Itt which she had grown up. Howell Sheffield feels the stirrings of dissatisfaction. His father, a hard-work-ing doctor, never had gotten rich, and Howell, etuding medicine in preparation to follow his father's profession wonders U he really wants to be a doctor. Jacqueline, at a dance In her honor, tells Hossell he is too good-looking for the town of Fairfax. Meanwhile, his father, tired and overworked, comes down with pneumonia. The swift death of his father leaves Howell bitter and rebellious. He has three more years of medical work to finish, and his father has left little money. Howell decides to quit medical uchool. to go to Hollywood and try to get into the movies, for quick wealth, fame, and success. CHAPTER FOUR TO Howell Sheffield the journey from Fairfax, Mo., to Los Angeles was like a dream. Others might complain of boredom. He found no difficulty in amusing him•eif. Staring with equally unseeing eyes at mountains and desert. He was conscious of the scenery, in a secondary way, but the topmost layer of his mind was occupied with his own future. Even the memories of his father were laid resolutely away. No room for sentiment in the struggle to which he had pledged himself.

He made no effort to accept any of the tentative offers of companionship from fellow travelers. He made no confidences to any one but Lambie,” and that was not until the magic word “California" appeared after the name of every town. Once in the diner, he thought how surprised some of these people would be if they knew they were traveling with a future motion picture star. Four years from now he would probably be forced to dine in the seclusion of his own compartment. Howell’s heart almost suffocated him when a couple of reporters boarded the train at Ogden and were admitted to the drawing room of his Pullman. "Richard Reynold's in there,” explained the movie-wise porter. “Been sleeping all the way from Chicago. That's what most of them do on the train.” From then on Howell watched the door of that drawing room with the intensity of a cat. Rewarded by a .solitary glimpse of a big man, with hired eyes, and a disappointingly unfamiliar face. Richard Reynolds did not at all resemble the pictures Howell had seen of him. He never would have recognized him without the porter’s explanation. At Salt Lake Howell, strolling through the station, paid a dollar a book he hoped would be a Qm to him. “How I Broke into JgfMovies” was the title and it jonineci the autographed plioto||9bis and personal experiences of Hb’ movie stars. Horely, thought, Howell, one of the i|Sy must have had a way of breakm in which might be repeated, file read them all, from beginning

Kd end, finding them surprisingly similar. “My mother was a stage star." “I made my first appearance on the stage when I was 7 years old." “My mother, faced with the necessity of supporting herself and her baby took to the stage.” "Breaking into pictures for me was a matter of stepping across the footlights to the front of the camera.'' Howell's family certainly had not done their “bit" by way of preparing him for a motion picture career. So far back as he could remember—and the ancestry of his father’s family was traced to prerevolutionary days—there never had been an actor. He obviously was certainly under more or less of a handicap. But that should not deter him from his purpose. A scientific training should be an asset for any profession. Certainly his background and education would be no drawback. He understood that “real ladies and gentlemen” were hard to find in Hollywood. And "directors were always looking for new types.” a a a ONE of the stars said, further: “For any one seeking to break into the movies today, it is almost imperative that they have personal acquaintance with some studio explus ft good-sized bank ac-

count or personal income, and, above this, of course, a complete wardrobe and the ability to act.” "Personal acquaintance with some studio executive.” There was a word of advice. Only how did one manage it? If Jacqueline Bordoni were in Hollywood, instead of New York, she might have given him an introduction to her director. But then how had Jacqueline broken in? She could have had no personal acquaintance with a studio executive. Her experiences were not recorded in the book. Her success was perhaps too recent. Howell read the paragraph again and dismissed it with the same conclusion that the topnotchers in any profession liked to make their struggle appear more difficult than it really was. The facts undoubtedly were exaggerated. Even if her name did not appear In this book, Jacqueline Bordoni was a recognized star and Howell knew she had become so without a single one of the requirements listed here. With the exception, perhaps, of the ability to act. But then how much ability did it take just to be oneself before a camera? How could any one tell whether he had such ability until given a test? The book was not so helpful as he had hoped. Even when the writers did confess to starting as an “extra.” the gaps between those days and the time when they began to play “leads” were not filled in. Neither were there any explanations as to how one became an "extra.” No doubt that would be easy enough to do, once one had arrived in Hollywood. Problems of that kind had a way of solving themselves ...

Howell was sitting in the parlor car when he discarded the book he had been reading. He was embarrassed to find a woman In the chair next to his, regarding him amusedly. "Thinking of breaking in?” she smiled. He did not like her smile, nor the voice that went with it, but he answered, truthfully: "I thought I might ” Her eyes swept his face with the intensity of a powerful searchlight. “What have you to offer besides youth and your very obvious good looks?” Howell blushed. "As much as any one else, I guess.” tt a tt TJE hated her for asking such a IX question, but for some reason he could not have refused to answer. There was a quality about her—something hard and glittering—which commanded attention. From her brassy, well-kept hair to the thin hands, weighted with rings. Howell felt she was a person with authority. One unused to having her desires refused. They talked for half an hour, but it was not until that night on the observation platform, that she said, “call me Lambie, if you like. Everybody does.” Howell couldn’t. He avoided the privilege with conversational sidestepping, which must have amused her. He could see she was a woman of the world. She lighted cigaret after cigaret, with nervous, jeweled fingers, and tossed them away half-smoked. She spoke, casually, of experiences and customs he knew could be afforded only by the extremely weathy. She was, she confessed, a widow. "Much, much older than you, dear boy! And wiser! But with, oh, such a youthful heart. I don't like people of my own age. They bore me.” He cursed himself for a conceited ass. but couldn’t keep from wondering if she wanted him to hold the hand she let fall against his arm. And he decided he was mistaken when, after a moment, with a tired little sigh, she took it away. "I'm awfully lonely,” she said. “I travel a great deal of the time. Just returned from London. Such a stupid place. I never would have gone if business interest there had not demanded my attention.” Howell thought a woman with to much experience must have found

—By Williams

him stupid, too, but if she did she was too kind to show it. "I’ve a suite of rooms in a Los Angeles hotel,” she continued, "but not many friends. Money to spend and no one to spend it on. Life is cruel, isn’t it?” He agreed, thinking with a stab at his heart at its injustice to his father. “You’re awfully understanding, aren’t you? I don’t think I’ve ever met any one with so much sympathy and understanding.” He murmured that he was glad she felt that way. He’d had some hard knocks recently. He could not have mentioned his father to the jaded, world-weary woman at his side. It would have seemed a sacrilege. Lambie pressed his knee ever so fleetingly, "My dear, I think I know. The hurts of youth are very, very real. It makes me angry when older people smile and shrug a young person’s troubles away. No suffering in all one’s life is quite so painful.” # u tt TIE liked her better after that. Not well enough, however, to take advantage of the favors she tentatively offered. Or he imagined she offered. He really couldn’t be certain she meant quite all she said. His lack of experience and her obvious wealth and sophistication made him nervous and ill at ease. He did not wish to appear rude but he was glad when she finally suggested that they go inside. It was after 10 o’clock and the cars they traversed had been darkened. When they reached the door of her compartment she opened it and standing inside held out her hand. He took it, awkwardly. It was thin and hot and drew him toward her. "It’s been so delightful talking with you,” she whispered. “Have you enjoyed it, too?” “Os course,” he stammered, and tearing his hand from hers, fled down the corridor. Did he imagine that, too? Or did the sound of her laughter pursue him. What strange, compelling insistence had been in her hand! Howell stopped for a momen between cars and took deep breaths of the fresh air. “Lambie!” What a name for a woman! He couldn’t have called her by it. Poor thing! She was lonely. "Money to spend, but no one to spend it on.” “Perhaps,” though Howell in his own berth, "perhaps she didn’t really mean any of the things I suspected. I’m not used to women of that type. Never met one in my life before. I wonder if she was laughing at me.” Nevertheless, his last waking thought was relief that he had broken away from her. There had been something almost compulsory in the pressure of her hand. . . . (To Be Continued)

THE RETURN OF TARZAN

Over Tarzan’s head the shot whirred harmlessly. Before his concealed enemy could fire again, the ape-man had wrested the firearm from him and dragged forth the struggling figure. It was Rokoff, the Russian, alias Monsieur Thuran. Jane pleaded with Tarzan to leave the wretch to the laws of France, and so the sailors carried him la iron* aboard the cruises, .

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

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MOM’N POP

But first he was searched and, to Tarzan’s delight, the stolen papers were found. A moment after this excitement had died down, Jane introduced Tarzan to Tennington, “John Clayton. Lord Greystoke, my lord,” she said. It required many repetitions of the ape-man’s strang story to convince Lord Tennington that they were not all quite

—By Martin

Late the next afternoon Tarzan and his warriors returned with the first load of his “belongings.” When the party saw the ancient ingots of virgin gold, they swarmed about the ape-man with a thousand questions. But Tarzan smilingly refused to give them the slightest clue as to the source of his immense treasure, adding; “Tiwe arm a thfmganfl that X latt hghtelM ,

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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\ 'j rZ . ' THM MTonoattA ' / \(f GET OUT or \ /Zy ( INVIM-ttCNT

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

When they had stored this aboard the cruiser, the captain said he felt like the commander of an old-time Spanish galleon returning from the treasure cities of the Aztecs. “I don’t know what minute my crew will cut my throat and take over the ship,” he laughed. But Tarzan valued the gold as nothing, compared to the girt 2n4 mioiMd firan tin goMm

DEC. 6, 192

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