Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 185, Indianapolis, Marion County, 13 December 1929 — Page 28

PAGE 28

PUT OUR WAY

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SYNOPSIS § When Jacqueline Bordini, famous fiOvie star, returns to the little town in SrlUch she had grown up. Howell Shef*elc! is filled with dissatisfaction. He is Studying medicine, preparing to follow fJ* steps of his father, hard-working olor. Howell’s father tired and over-worked, lies of pneumonia. Howell, bitter and i’bellious against such sacrifice, decides £> leave medical school and go to Hollywood. there to win quick wealth in tlie fiovie game. On the train he meets an 'lder woman, who calls herself "Lainble” jtld offers him friendship. | In Hollywood, Howell finds himself a g)Oip and goes to the Biiice Studio, where |c is offered a cours? in movie acting. [He meets Sally Osbourne, who tells - the Binco Studio is a fake £ttool for suckers. She (Lues not think of his ambition to be a movie getor. ISallv. a reporter. gives him a pass to we of the studios and Howell is thrilled §> see the actual work of a picture “hned. He determines to register g Centrai Casting Office for a job flTie Central Casting Office refuses to figister him without a letter from a diector. At a small caaidv shop a friendF waitress points out Martin B. Walker pe director, to him. CHAPTER NINE ( Continued) “If we want a dirty man we go fid get a dirty man. Every extra links he Is a potential John GilIrt or Douglas Fairbanks. If he |intly resembles an actor, so much |e worse. They expect to step from ling an extra to stardom, but that li’t done. They haven’t a chance I the world, but they think they five. ‘“They're the greatest bunch of pes in the world,” Martin Walker Ud hotly. “Many of them are tarving. Saying they can’t live on hat they make. If they can't, why, j. God’s name, don’t they go to fai'k at something else? They want starve. They work one, perhaps to days a week. Seldom more. “Every one not working is a Bollevik. \n ungrateful, dissatisfied t! All they want is work. And iere isn’t enough work.” He stopped long enough to offer owell a cigaret. “Do you really want to get yourIf into a situation like that? You y you’ve been educated to be a (ctor. That you could start prac:ing in three more years. After iree years of being an extra, where > you think you’d be?” “I wouldn't expect to be an exa that long.” Howell Insisted. sTNone of them do. But that's stat they are. year after year, un|f their hair begins to turn, wrinkles 'jppear and they wonder why they’re being called.” The lavender-clad waitress reirned with Howell’s order and as hovering about his chair. He lew that the interview, if such it. mid be called, was over, but he as unable to depart without one lal plea. “Mr. Walker, I certainy appreate tiie time you’ve taken to exain this to me. but you'll have to imit that there are exceptions to ery rule. Every year must, find me new stars coming to the front.” “Not from among the extras.” “I might be that exception, lough,” Howell persisted. “Couldn't >u possibly just give me a lettei > Central Casting?” The light fadded from the directs eyes. His voice was heaw. “No, Mr. Sheffield. I can’t. I Xi’t want the responsibility of seeig that you are called. If you eren't called, being registered kuldn’t be of any use. You look } me like an unusually intelligent S>ung man. but since I’ve wasted my |me. good-night!” 3‘EPORE the finality of that dismissal Howell retreated to his |*n table. Forcing himself to jvallow the scalding coffee and gmdwichea he had ordered. Later, as soon as the director had ft. the pansy-faced waitress oated back. "You were kidding me, weren’t DU?” Howell was not Interested. I “Kidding you? What about?” I “Pretending you didn’t know that las Martin Walker!” I “Never saw him in my life before,” lowell said, shortly. I “Well, for strangers he was fertainly giving you a great line of |yjt. Say. what’s the matter with gE anyway?” |Bybe inflection of her husky voice ISlike a subtle caress. Again he JM4ie conscious of a faintly -warlike scent* Cheap, no doubt,

And with a sudden reckless reversion of mood, he answered, “You want to know? Well, I’m so low I could jump into the ocean.” Except for the girl at the candy counter, they were alone in the restaurant. She leaned dimpled elbows upon his table and nodded, wisely. “I bet I know why. You’re trying to get into the movies and can't. “The astuteness of your perception astonishes me,” he admitted gravely. “Whatever that means! Listen I’m not so dumb. I knew the minute you came in here you was feeling low.” They stared at each other for a moment, contemplatively. “What are you going to do about it?” she asked. “I guess the sensible thing to do would be to take the first train home.” “I wouldn’t do that,” she surprised him by saying. “You don’t want to get discouraged. I was In pictures myself once, and it was lots of fun. If I was a man I’d be there yet.” “If you were a man?” Her white eyelids drooped until the beaded eyelashes swept her cheek. “I’ll say! It’s no life for a girl who’s got any self-respect.” Howell began to be amused. “Do you know I’ve read stories about things like that, but I didn’t suppose there was much truth in it.” She sighed and lifted her eyelashes. “Say, the true confessions that I could write . . . You’d probably not believe me.” “Oh. yes, I would, and I’ll bet they would be awfully interesting,” Howell said, gallantly. “Not only directors, assistant directors and such,” she confided, “but camera men, property men, even the electricians. . . I never had a moment’s peace.” a n SHE gazed at him tentatively, and added, “You remember how I sort of cried out to you when Martin Walker came in?” Yes. he remembered. “Well, the last time I seen him was on a set. He tried to make a date with me and when I said ‘no’ he said, ‘All right, young lady! You needn’t expect any more calls from me.’ ” After listening to Martin Walker’s conversation Howell doubted that. “You think I'm lying, don’t you?” “Certainly not! Only—well—Martin , Walker doesn't look like that kind of a man.” “None of them do.” she contributed, sagely. “Anyway, believe it or not, that's the reason I had to quit;” She looked at the watch on her delicate wrist and cried, “My heavens, it's after 12 o’clock. I’m off at midnight.” Should he wait for her or not? In her rather piquant company he might find surcease from the devils which had driven him out Hollywood boulevard and back. But was it worth it? He decided not and rose to pay his check, leaving her staring after him a little wistfully. He left the candy shop, congratulating himself on his common sense. He had so far managed to steer clear of all girls more or less. Particularly girls of this type. Nice enough, but common. There had been something appealing about her, however. She was pretty as a pansy, but it wasn’t altogether that. . . She possessed a disarming simplicity, a child-like directness which reminded him of Sally. Sally, as she might be, if she were also deliberately alluring. . . . ana THE oddity of this idea amused him. Sally wouldn’t be any too pleased with the comparison. But it might be rather interesting to pursue the matter and find out if there was a similarity between the two girls. He found himself loitering outside the shop. Waiting with a sense of reluctance. Hoping and fearing that she might have gone way. She same, hurrying forth, in a velvet coat and tiny, purple hat, under which her face peered out more pansy-like than wee,

—Bv Williams

“Oh, I thought you’d gone long ago.” “I’m too wide-awake to go to bed,” Howell explained. “Do you mind if I walk home with you? Or do you go on the car?” He was embarrassed. Not quite certain how one made engagements with girls one didn’t know. Her black eye* swept his face. “I live off Vine street and I’d just as soon walk. I sort of like to walk in the rain.” The rain dripped persistently, but gently on the umbrella he held above her. She clung to his arm, with her faint, flower-like fragrance freshened by the cold, wet air. And as they walked the sense of her nearness crept, like a drug, across his tortured nerves. CHAPTER TEN '"KTOU don’t even know my name, X do you?” she volunteered. “I know what it ought to be.” “What? Go on and tell me!” Howell smiled into her eager eyes. “You’ll probably laugh, but the moment I saw you you reminded me of a pansy.” “Pansy?” she cried, disappointed. “And I was hoping you’d think it was Gloria or something like that.” “You funny child! Gloria wouldn’t suit you at all.” “Suits me as well as the one I’ve got.” “What Is It? Mine’s Sheffield. Howell Sheffield.” Why had he told her? And why did it once again sound so unfamiliar there on Hollywood boulevard after midnight? “Mine's Madalyn,” she said. “Madalyn Russell.” “Nothing wrong with that. I think it’s a very pretty name.” She said, sulkily, “Well, I don’t happen to care for it.” They walked In silence for a moment before her light laughter bubbled up again. “I don’t know what possessed me to let you come home with me like this. I don’t usually.” He wished she had left those words unsaid. Already he was beginning to prefer her silence. If she but knew her charm was much more potent “seen and not heard.” But he answered, “You were sorry for me, I suspect. I have been awfully lonely.” Instantly she had laid a sympathetic hand upon his arm. “Gee, I’m sorry. I know what it is. My mother died when I was just a kid and I cried my eyes out for weeks afterward.” “You don’t live alone, do you?” “No, I live with my father. In the same house, that is. We don’t see much of each other. He’s a night clerk down at the West hotel.” Poor little kid! A genuine pity began to permeate the other sensations she had roused. (To Be Continued)

THE BEASTS OF TARZAN

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Tarzan lay in the darkness of the hold, ignorant of the fact that his wife was a prisoner in the cabin almost above his head. For weeks that seemed like months the'little steamer forged on—the two prisoners knew not where. Then one day Tarzan was ordered to come above. A$ he swung himself on deck, he noted over the starboard bow ot Kincaid a strip of land.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TBIES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

r 'N C hale. to ask the cops TrttMfc AFTER THE Vft\Y THEV’VE I TREATED ME, BUT 1 GOT To V f(NO OOT UOW THAT TRAMP <- C tti LUAURY/ ’

SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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The vessel lay at anchor a few hundred yards from shore. Almost down to the water’s edge ran a dense tropical jungle. Around him stood a half-dozen armed sailors, commanded by an unkempt, swarthy officer. Tarzan fully expected to see RokofT, but it was the officer who spoke. “Lord Greystoke.” he said, “your child is not on board. We have orders to set you at liberty te*** i ;

—By Martin

Tarzan listened with amazement. “Be quick” continual the fellow in broken English, “remove your clothing. Here you will not need it.” And. as Tarzan hesitated, a revolver was pointed at him and slowly he obeyed. A boat was lowered and, still heavily guarded, the ape-man was rowed ashore. There a note was thrust into his hand and he was left—marooned—upon a ftincU island, “ . i ii. ■ ■iw 1111111 aw •>

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Eftear Rice Burroughs

As he watched the departing vessel, Tarzan saw a man appear at the rail, call his name, and with a laugh of derision hold high the figure of a little child. Sick with horror, he realized the full measure of Rokoff’s revenge. It numbed his senses completely, so that he failed to hear the movement of that hairy thing behind him, creeping stealthily towards him as a cat upon jam* ..... . . .

-DEC. 12, 1929

—By Ahem

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Taylor