Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 188, Indianapolis, Marion County, 17 December 1929 — Page 15

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OUT OUR WAY

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Charmer IK*ilk \ ' VIDA HUP-uTT

SYNOPSIS When Jacqueline Bordlnl, famous movie star, returns to the little town in which she had crown up, Howell Sheffield Is filled with dissatisfaction. Howell's father, an overworked country doctor, dies of pneumonia, leaving his family practically nothing. Howell, against the wishes of his mother, decides to leave medical school and go to HoHvwood. On the train an older woman, who calls herself "Lamble'’ offers him her friendship. Howell gets a room and meets Sally Osbourne, who does not think much of his ambition to be a movie actor. He tries to get work as an extra, but fails. One director refuses to help him and advises him to go back to medical school. Howell, disillusioned, walks home with the friendly waitress of a randy shop. Next morning Sally Osbourne warns him what Hollywood will do to him. Desperat* and almost penniless, Howell Is starving himself, but his determination to get Into the movies does not falter. At last he gets a job as an extra In a cafeteria scene. CHAPTER TWELVE ( Continued) Four times the line passed along the counter, with long intervals between, until the potatoes ceased steaming and the edges of the lettuce began to wilt from the glare of the lights. Howell had starved himself to make it possible for him to get into motion pictures, but once in the sole idea in his mind was to eat one plateful of that satisfying food no matter if it were cold. It would be just as filling. With envious eyes he watched those sitting at the tables. They were eating. Some of them as if they were as hungry as he. “Hey, bus boy, bring us another cup of coffee.” He saw a fragile, delicately beautiful girl, holding out her plate. “Fill it up for me, will you?” ‘‘She had it filled three times,” the woman in front of him whispered. There was a star in that picture, whose experiences were written in the book Howell had bought on his his way to Hollywood. The director was one of the most famous in the cinema world. Yet at the moment neither of these facts concerned him half so much as getting around the counter with his precious tray-load of food. . . . It was almost 11 o'clock. His stomach was contracting with emptiness. He thought with sympathy of the Spartan youth who had permitted a fox to gnaw his vitals rather than to show signs of distress. He hadn't realized he was so nearly starved until the reality of what he had missed was forced upon him. It was the sight of it. The superb, monstrous waste . . . which made his eyes swim and a dull pain start to throb in the back of his head. “All right. This is the picture, now folks! Lights!” The music started. The line was moving again. “I’ll take some of this. And this and this . . .” 000 THE coffee was cold, but no matter. This time he was going to make it. Almost at the end of the counter the line was stopped. “A close-up* now.” the director shouted. ‘‘Cheat out—the rest of you.” Howell, with his hands on the tray, saw it slip from beneath his grasp . . . “All right! Lights! Wait a minute. Look after him—some one!" For the first time in his life Howell Sheffield had fainted . . . He opened his eyes from behind the scenes. He lay on an overstuffed davenport, and listened to the director's voice. It came from a long ways off. A little fellow in the costume of a jockey was bending over him. "Feeling better now?” Tm ail right.. Gee, I'm sorry about this.” “Jimmy says you better go home. Give me your check, and I’ll have him sign it for you. They'll give you quarter time." ‘Tm not sick.” Howell objected. “Just hungry. The sight of all that food made me weak.” An understanding grin crossed the jockey’s face. “Hell, why didn't you say so? Wait a minute.” He disappeared and returned with loaded plate. “Eat this," he urged, “and when you've finished come on back. They

won’t pay any attention to you so long’s you don’t say anything.” a a a Gratefully, Howell followed his advice, finding his return to the set apparently unnoticed. Later in the afternoon as the line left the counter and sought places at the tables, “Jimmy” inquired in passing, “Feeling all right?” Howell didn’t wonder that he hadn’t time to stop. It had taken all day to shoot those few scenes inside the cafeteria. How was a picture ever completed. Such detail! Such patient, seemingly endless repetition! Such hours of doing nothing while the principals or those doing “bits” rehearsed. He knew now why Mary Dixon had yawned with weariness. Every muscle in his body ached. . . . It was almost 6 o'clock. His first day in the movies would soon be over. Beyond the small commotion caused by his faiting. what had he done to arrest a director’s atten? tion? The moment was not an auspicious one to ask for a letter to Central Casting. Better get more work as a “spec" before he asked for that. If only he might be assured of reentering the studio gates. There was a fascination about it. Something of the same fascination Madalyn had. Poor little kid! He’d have to see her and thank her for the “tip." At 6 o’clock he waited twenty minutes for the assistant director to sign his check. He stood in line for thirty minutes to cash that check at the cashier’s office. Managed to catch a bus to the street car line, transferred twice and reached home after 9 o’clock not far from complete exhaustion. B B B BUT he took the money he had earned from his pocket and gazed upon it lovingly. He would have liked to keep it as a souvenir, but he needed It too badly. A few more days like this and he’d be sitting pretty. He could manage on very little so long as something was coming in. He fried bacon and eggs on the greasy gas stove and went to bed happy, but sorry that there wasn’t some way of letting Sally Osbourne know. But on the next day, although fortified with a hearty breakfast when he reappeared at Culver City, there was no call for “specs.” Howell returned to his room and wrote an enthusiastic letter to Eunice. “I was In my first picture yesterday with Harry Haines and Charmian Davidson. It’s certainly fascinating and altogether different from most of the things you hear . . .”

THAT night he dressed carefully and arrived at the candv shop in time to escort Madalyn home. She was flatteringly glad to see him. Properly thrilled at his success. “Gee. I’m glad. That’s the way to do it. Just keep on trying.” When they reached her home, she leaned against him, frankly yearning for his arms. “Why didn’t you come back? It's been more than three weeks.” Not nearly so attracted as he had been on the other evening. Howell felt compelled to evince more enthusiasm. “I’ve thought about you a lot. It’s just as I told you the other day, Madalyn. I don’t feel that it’s fair to take up your time when I’ve no money to spend on you.” “Isn't that for me to decide?” she countered. “I'm not asking for anything exeept to see you now and then. You’re different from any one else I’ve ever known.” “Do you think you’d be satisfied having me meet you after work and never take you anywhere?” “Maybe we could go some place on Sundays. To the beach or some place like that.” 000 WHAT was he to do? What would any fellow have done in such circumstances? And. instantly, with the touch of her lips the spell was woven again. She was no longer a rather common little* waitress, but an enchantress, as mysterious as the night.... Sure now of her power, she whispered. “You like me, too, don’t you?" "I’m crazy about you!"

—By Williams

She pressed his face into the warm, white hollow of her throat. “You’ve acted so funny since that night I thought maybe you didn’t, but n0w....” “Now?" he repeated. The music of her laughter rippled through the night. “Oh, kiss me! Kiss me again...” Later, striding to the street car line, Howell wondered what he had promised. To see her again, of course. Well, once more wouldn’t matter. “Why shouldn’t I see her?” he demanded of himself, savagely. “She’s the only human being in Ho!> wood who gives a dam whether I live or die.” He was too Intelligent not to realize the potentialities of such an association. But so long as he kept his head. He intended, of course, to do that. She was naively, childishly in love with him. Physically beautiful. Sweetly clean, with the added charm of a satin-smooth skin! The memory of her hair pressed against his face intoxicated him. The evening was not so sickening in retrospect as it had been on that first occasion. Why not? Because her obvious affection justified her actions? Or because his own need was greater? After all what did it matter? Why did he always have to look at such things so much more puritanically than ether fellows? With a laugh and an inner shrug at his own narrow-mindedness, he boarded the Hollywood car for downtown. CHAPTER THIRTEEN lYyf ORNING after morning Howell -*•*■■■ made the rounds of studios where “specs” might be used. Without any luck! It was as if the one day's work had been offered merely to tantalize him. Because now that he knew there was a possibility of getting in this way, he couldn’t cease trying. Sooner or later he’d have another “break.” Meantime the money in his father’s shabby, wallet grew more pitifully insufficient. With a discipline worthy of a nobler cause he denied himself everything but the barest essentials, keeping his clothes pressed and clean, although hollows like caverns appeared around his eyes and his freshly colored cheeks shrank until the skin seemed taut across the bones. Several times he waited for Madalyn and escorted her home, promising himself that each occasion should be the last. Driven by depression and a solitude which became at moments a menace to the solace of her arms. He found her increasingly seductive and more necessary, like any other drug he might have taken. But this scientific diagnosis of his own condition did not relieve the pain. (To Be Continued!

But soon the tribe became silent in amazement and expectation. They saw the mighty whiteape wiggle upon the back of their king. With steel muscles tensed beneath the armpits of his antagonist, he bore down mightily with open palms upon the back of the thick, bull-neck. The Sing-ape shrieked in agony and floundered helplessly about upon the mat of jungle grass.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

/"V X GOT It, VJASW. I GOT iTI WOW'S AT \f HE FOU.OVIS NOD TO TOUR HOME TCUIW? / THIS FOR A THEORY? you GET AWAY 'N SAYS HE'S REFORMED? OrETS YOUR. I ViVTH THAT PIRATE TREASURE, SEE. mi { CONFIDENCE. ROT YOU’RE iN TOO THICK V DAWSON KNOWS it. WE SWEARS HE’LL / WITH THE DUk£ AND COUNTESS. ME •r' - WE MATES ' TOUR GUM, AVI!) WMTS^J

SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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THE BEASTS OF TARZAN

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The little audience of fierce anthropoids heard t; e creaking of their king's neck mingling with his agonized roarings. Then the bullethead crumpled forward upon the great, hairy chest. They saw the newcomer place a foot upon the back of the figure at his feet and, throwing back his head, give vent to the wild, uncanny challenge of the bull-ape that has made a kill.

—By Martin

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Across the jungle rolled the terrible notes of victory cry. The little monkeys in the tree tops ceased their chattering. The harsh-voiced, bril-liant-plumed birds were still. From afar came the answering wail of a - leopard and the deep roar of a lion. Then the pig-eyed apes knew that their king was dead. Tarzan turned questioning eyes upon the beasts. What would their next move bet x

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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F€R Susie’s SAKE.' OiD 1 iTWAS ' T Ue ONLY WHO BROKE TU' JV, *mY 1 COULO GET 3OT, j .I- *. l l

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

One of the younger apes, a huge, splendidly muscled brute, was edging threateningly closer to the ape-man. Through his bared fighting fangs there issued a low sullen growL Tarzan stood perfectly still, waiting. He saw the beast was of wondrous proportions, standing over seven feet upon its short, bowed legs. With stiff, jerky movements it began circling the alert ape-man, -

PAGE 15

—By Ahern

—By Blossei;

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan