Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 183, Indianapolis, Marion County, 11 December 1929 — Page 10

PAGE 10

OUT OUR WAY

#x _„ KtßOte ARE MADE-MOTBORM. J.R.w.U_*M3 *“ 0 ? ThAEL tQW. J

Charmer r i __ Vida hueutt

SYNOPSIS When Jacqueline Sordini, famous movie star, returns to the little town In which she ,had grown up. Howell Sheffield is filled with dissatisfaction. He is studying medicine, preparing to follow the steps of his father, a hardworking doctor. Howell’s father, tired and overworked, dies of pneumonia. Howell, bitter and rebellious against such sacrifice decides to leave medical school and go to Hollywood, there to win quick wealth In the movie game. On the train he meets an older woman, who calls herself “Lamble” and offers him friendship. „ . , , , ~ In HolSvwood, Howell finds himself a room and t?oes to the Bince Studio, where he is offered a course in movie £LCt in? He meets Sally Osbourne, who tells him that the Hince Studio is a fake school for suckers. She does not think much of his ambition to be a movie actor. , . , Sally, a reporter, gives him a pass to one of the studios and Howell is thrilled to see the actual work of a picture being aimed. He determines to register at t.ha Central Casting Office for a job as • extra.” CHAPTER SEVEN (Continued) His one letter home, written on the night of his arrival, had con- . tained a glowing report, which subsequent experience had failed to justify. Perhaps this was because of Sally Osbourne’s lapse of interest. Not that he would have had it any different. He expected more civility that was all. She passed him as if she were afraid he was going to ask her for something. But she needn’t worry a a a HE was surprised when she stopped him on the walk leading into the house. “Hello! Still planning to be a second Rudolph Valentino?” “I’ve no reason for chang ng my plans as yet,” he informed her, coldly. Sally smiled. “You do hate to be kidded, don’t you? And you’re furious because I gave you all that good advice.” “Not at all. I appreciate it tremendously. “You do not! Well. I’ve done something else that may appeal to you more. Would you like to visit one of the studios?” Would he? His gratitude must have touched her heart. “I was able to get a pass for you through a friend in the publicity department. But please don't try to do any breaking in today. Remember, you’re there as a visitor only." He promised and an hour later the card she gave him opened the gates to a magic world. It was as he had always heard, like a “busy little town,” with its rows of small green bungalows, carpenter shops, garages and ironically silent sections of streets. Sally's friend must have been powerful, for the guide who had been assigned to him informed Howell that there were fewer visitors being admitted every day. “It Interfere with work.” this bored young gentleman confided. “And takes our time showing you around. I should be back in the office right now.” “I don’t mind looking around without a guide or for longer than alone,” Howell suggested. “It isn’t allowed. No parties twenty minutes.” He added that none of the studios was doing much now, but he would take Howell over to Stage 5. A huge barn-like place with a dusty clutter of paraphernalia. A ballroom on one set, the interior of a "case on another, the living room of a fraternity house. 1 • Howell was interested in this. Here was something he might have been doing. He knew law to wear a tux, dance and stand around in collegiate attitudes. Inittantly he was seeing himself in the place of the leading man, whose sweet mouth, blue eyes and charming manners were utterly unlike his own athletic attractions. THE star, Mary Dixon, was the daintiest of blonde darlings. Before the camera she played with the gayest of smiles, tossing her head and snapping her fingers, but the moment she was free she sank into a chair as if exhausted. Howell couldn’t see why she should be so tired. He watched, fascinated, as she examined a caught place in her stocking, adjusted her garters, yawned, then broke Into a delightful smile in response to a visitor’s greeting. “Miss Dixon. I’ve seen you on the screen so many times I must tell

■you how very much I enjoy your work.” Howell wished he had courage enough to say something like that, but he hadn’t and in another moment the director was calling, “All right, Mary! Let’s go! Lights!” The music started and Mary was up, light as a feather, with a crowd of fraternity brothers about her, begging for favors which she provokingly reserved for the charming leading man. It was very exciting and much more complicated than Howell had imagined. He stood behind the camera, paying little attention to the groups of “extras” drooping against the wall. The number of people engaged in the actual taking of the picture was astonishing. Property men, electricians. camera men, assistant directors, and a girl, who followed the director around and made notations in a big book. There was, he thought, rather a delightful atmosphere of informality. One of the assistant directors caught his trousers on a nail and was kidded about “tearing his pants.” “Are they new, Marty?” “Oh no, I bought them the day before yesterday.”

A GROUP of alumni singing r, Sweet Adeline” before the dear old fraternity fireplace caused an outburst. “Stop mugging it—you! Don’t cover that fellow over there. No! No! Xo!” “Barking dogs never bite,” some one whispered audibly in the silence which followed. The director, very red in the face, w’alked away, stumbling over a length of tubing. In less than two minutes Howell was surprised to see him return with a package of gumdrops. Going up in the downcast group of alumni, he proffered the candy and asked them to try it again. All this was certainly contrary to the tales he had heard and very encouraging to Howell. But now his guide reminded him that the time was up and he would have to go. He left more intrigued than before. It. had been infinitely more fascinating than he had imagined. No wonder everyone was so “crazy” to get into the movies. Aside from the stupendous monetary remuneration there was something about the work itself. Something Howell had not expected would appeal to him. . . . Some of these ideas he expressed at dinner to a more friendly Sally. “And I sent you out there hoping you’d see the other side of it,” she said sadly. “Oh, well, I might have known better. I guess the only thing for you to do is to go on trying to be an ’extra.’ ” He told her that such was certainly his intention. The next day he intended to register at Central Casting.

CHAPTER EIGHT PROMPTLY at 9 o'clock Howell was striding through the entrance to the Guaranty building, taking a crowded elevator to the second floor. He found a room full of men before him. Men of all varieties. Old, young, middle-aged. More old and middle-aged than young, which surprised Howell. Nationalities? Indian. Italian, Mexican. Greek and Spanish predominating. Mostly down-and-out-ers—an ignorant, shifty-looking lot! Howell took a seat between two of them and concentrated his attention on a man at the desk behind the gate, who was sorting cards. "Did vou give me your name?” "No. sir. I didn’t.” "Want to see about registration?”. “Yes. sir!” "You'll have to talk with Mr. Collins. What is the name, please? ’ Howell told him. "Howell Sheffield—two fs.” Why did his name sound so out of place in that crowded room? Because he had dreamed of it as "Dr. Howell Sheffield.” A tall, good-looking man with a sudden smile and a low, decisive voice sauntered up to the gate. "Who’s first?”

—By Williams

One at a time, but in rapid succession, he disposed of the lot of them. Howell could not hear all that he said, but it must have been definite, for the chairs were being cleared and quickly refilled. This second assortment appeared more intelligent and approached the desk more confidently. “Good morning, Mr. Collins. Wonder if I might speak with you for just a moment?” “Regarding work?” Mr. Collins inquired, lighting a cigaret. “Yes; you see it’s like this: I used to work fairly steady, but I haven’t had a call for over six weeks,” “There’s not much doing Just now.” “I know that, but I thought—you know, Mr. Collins, I’m an old-timer, I’ve been in motion pictures for years. But if you fellows in here have anything against m*-” “Nothing like that. We can’t make work when there isn’t any.” Howell saw a middle-aged, shiftyeyed individual present a letter. “I want to register. Open the letter first, will you?” The man behind the gate did so. “No amount of money you could give us would register you here,” he said harshly. “Here, take this with you. Next.” e ft AN inauspicious moment for Howell to make his appearance. But he lifted over six feet of healthy masculinity, in pleasing •intrast to the shuffling specimen which had preceded him. Hopeful that this fact at would be in his favor, he said, earnestly, “I have come all the way from Missouri to get into motion pictures.” “I’m sorry,” the other replied, “but you’re about ten years too late.” “I don't understand. I’ve been told that the only way to get work is to register at Central Casting.” The man opposite gave him * kindly smile. “I wish I had time to explain it to you, but I haven’t. Any more than to say that we have more than 30,000 people registered here and work for about 3,000. We aren’t taking registrations any more.” “Unless you’re ’ already in motion pictures you haven’t a chance in a million of breaking In. Take my advice and go back to wherever you come from.” “I can’t,” Howell said, desperately. “I don’t care how long it takes. Surely I’m different from the types I’ve seen waiting here this morning. I’ve attended medical school for three and a half years, I can swim, play football, any kind of athletics.” “There isn’t a type could come in that door that we haven’t at least a hundred of. Cripples, giants, dwarfs, bearded men, college boys. . . . It’s no use.” (To Be Continued.)

THE BEASTS OF TARZAN

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Almost frantic with grief, Lady Greystoke quickly related to her husband, upon his return to their London home, all she had been able to learn concerning the theft of their child. As they were planning the wisest course to pursue, the telpehone rang. A strange man's voice told Tarzan he knew where the baby was hidden. And, for a price, he would betray his confederates.

THE, INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

W' kO l\Kt TO f SOOT*. ! 1 ARt \OO ; OrtH—Vtf VRMy F\UO THAT DOLV ON V yi / j FINTDWG WHAT | 1 GET CWBSSmAf* f ; YOU WANT ? J VMW \ REAU.Y ~<~ r — ''....“ " V fggg Ortrt WELL-WrE IN Th’ WRONG^ 1 OEPAWTAENT , HONEY -*W DO UVMmiK a l 2 BY > MRVICt. IWC R

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

s>H freckles-did ya)( yeau=yeah ts i fixed it op tue) /au-no\w voo SET MV ESSAY OFF ? f FIXED (T U> AMO g£ST I COUUO 60T \ SWOOUONT WAV? VWHAT DiO YoO 7UtNK “> SENT FT IM EONS £ ££ j S|S a OON? TWAT, OF IT? <3EE~YOO AMSWT S ASO-vnWaT Do i . / FRECKLES van tw prize = uoyldwt /voo meaN~i > NAAM=: 10 ' NWEihi \ as long SURPRISE ME rT -JL-/ M n AMSUT V4IN? JL 1? YOOS. IDEA— ) A9 i ta£ M AWCH!! jW'%. ' :^T = *' 1 sn£ ° <voub Nw - / mumps anyway, l .* — .. 1 'l'-^‘J

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

Asa result of this conversation, Tarzan late that night went alone to a squally den bes de the water-front of Dover. As he paused within • the evil-smelling room, a muffled figure brushed past him. whispering: "This way, my lord.” In the gloom he did not recognize the man. "Where is the boy?” he questioned. "On that small steamer whose lights you see yonder,” replied the other, _

—By Martin

His guide led Tarzan into a small boat and pulled rapidly toward the ship. They climbed upon the deserted deck and the man pointed to an open hatch. “The boy is hidden there,” he said. "I will stand guard while you fetch him.” All Tarzan’a thoughts were occupied with the hope that soon he would again have his little son in his arms. Quickly he swung himself down into the darkness below. __

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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r/rntte DID TOO (JET THAT \/ trying TO to X"' -—vA ( PISTOL YOU MAO WHEN YOV) 1/ TRAP ME, EM, \ CHIEF. HE VJAS NEAR IME j / VERY X VVJERE LOOKIN’ FOR THE / FLINT? ViELL, 1 MURDER SCENE, BUT AIL V SUSPICIOUS'. pUKE? J 1 I'M NOT SO EASY j 1 LEARNEP IS THAT HE'S / VERY! \AS THAT-BETTER j oOT A REASON To KEEP I BETTER KEEP dSGfe ' ‘ V. TRY AGAIN, y HIS IDENTITY AND PAST \ AN EYE ON t. PftRK SECRET .j TjA'M.HIMTy

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Scarcely had he done so tnan me neavy covering fell clattering above him. Instantly he knew he was the victim of a plot. He waited for what might next befall him. Soon there came to his ears a .sound that caused him to go cold with apprehension. The ship was movingl Then high over the noise of the propeller, clear and shrill from the deck above him, rang tha scream of a frightened woman. _ _

DEC. 11, 1029

—By Ahern

—By Blosser;

--By Crane

—By Small

—By Taylor,