Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 250, Indianapolis, Marion County, 27 February 1930 — Page 10

PAGE 10

OUT OUR WAY

WELL~UH~ A HOLE HASTA THAT? OH, HAVE SOMETHIN THAT'S A AROUND IT TO APPIL CORE. BE A HOLE—BUT 'ATS WHERE YOU'VE PURTY NEARY A WORM SOLVED TH' PROBLUM WENT THRU. OF HAVIN' A HOLE WITH NOTHIN' A HOLE IN NOTHING REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. 1930 BY NEA SERVICE. INC.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX (Continued.) "Can't we go now?" “Yes, of course!” Dan arose and helped her with her coat. Ten minutes later they were back at the rooming house. There was a faintly glimmering electric bulb to light the dark hallway. Dan led the way up the stairs and Judith followed. When they were in the young man's room again he closed the door carefully. “Make yourself at home,” he told Judith. The room was not large, but there was the high ceiling to be found in all the old ‘‘brown stone fronts,” degenerated nowadays into everything from laundries and rooming houses to professional offices. The furniture was an incongruous assortment which had been better days. The landlady’s taste apparently ran to color. Black and white cretonne, vividly splotched with red roses, curtained the windows. The cot which apparently served as Dan’s bed was covered with the same fabric. Judith threw off her hat and coat and sank into a chair. "Well,” she said drearily, “Arthur’s going to get a divorce!” The man eyed her without making a reply. Moments passed. Then he said huskily, "Judith—can’t you forget about him?” She had turned her head so that he could not see her eyes. Suddenly she faced about and flung her arms about the young man. "Of course I can!” she cried. “I —I have forgotten about him. Dan, Darling, let's begin over again. Will you let me stay here?” "You know I want you to.” Again in Dan’s arms she found comfort, # # # TONY KNIGHT had been mistress of her father’s home for ten days. She held complete sway and no one disputed her authority. Not even Knight, for he spent his mornings at the office and Tony seldom saw him before late afternoon. Nevertheless. Tony Knight, on this particular April afternoon, looked anything but contented. It was nearly 3 o'clock and Tony was in her own room. She had just jammed the French telephone down upon its stand and sat tapping one foot angrily on the floor. She reached for the instrument, seemed about to pick it up again but left it. Tony's drawn lips and flashing eyes were ominous. With a bound she was out of the chair and across the room. "Oh!” she cried, "if I really believed it! If I could be sure—!” She stood perfectly still as though an idea had come to her. A crafty look entered the girl’s eyes. “Why not?” said Tony, addressing herself because there was no one else to hear. “Why not do it?” The answer was a sudden scramble toward the closet which held her gowns. Off came the rose brocade negligee, hurled over her head to land upon a chair. Mules were next, Tony pulled at a row of frocks, selected one of them and donned it. She jammed her feet into pumps, searched for a hat and perched one on her head at an outlandish angle. With one arm in her coatsleeve and the rest of the garment trailing, she rushed from the room. By the time she reached the downstairs hall she had the coat properly about her. Mumbling incoherently, Tony pulled open the front hall door and ran from the house to the garage. “I want my car!” she demanded. 'Get it out right away, I'm in a hurry.” "Right away. Miss,” Ben answered and disappeared. The seconds which passed before the roadster stood in the driveway irritated the girl. As soon as the chauffeur stepped down she was in the seat, her hands on the wheel. Bert Callahan, the chauffeur, watched the roadster plunge into the street and disappear. He gave a long, low whistle, then resumed his work. # # # IT was a good thirty-minute run from Arthur Knight's suburban home to the section of Manhattan

Tony was headed for. Thirty minutes was a minimum, allowing for luck with the traffic signals. That afternoon Tony made the distance in twenty-six minutes. She was cautious where experience prompted caution. The rest of the trip she let the roadster out. Wind blew her hair and her cheeks were flushed when she finally slowed the car's speed through the city streets. No place to park! The expressions that ripped glibly from Tony’s tongue certainly have no place in the books of etiquet. A seaman would have listened and probably grinned. At last she brought the roadster to the curb, halted and jumped out on the sidewalk. Tony faced about and walked rapidly down the block. A stolid-eyed doorman glanced at her as she turned to enter an impressive gray stone apartment. She ignored him, hurried through the doors and across the lobby. At the end of a long corridor she stepped into an elevator. “Fifteen,” she told the uniformed operator. She emerged into a carpeted hallway. Now Tony seemed to hesitate. She advanced, then paused. Impusively she moved down the corridor and stopped before a doorway. After an instant she rang the bell. There was no answer. Tony rang a second time and waited. A small youth with oriental features opened the door a few inches and looked at her doubtfully. "I want to see Mr. Mortimer.” The. boy shook his head. “Not here this afternoon.” “But I must see him!” "Mr. Mortimer not here,” the boy repeated. The flash in Tony Knight’s eyes should have warned him. All at once the girl rushed past the servant and through into a room beyond the first. “Oh!” she cried shrilly, halting on the threshold, “this is your business engagement, is it? I thought so! This is why you can’t keep appointments with me. How dare you lie like that? You—!” It was Mickey Mortimer who Interrupted. The blond young woman on the davenport from which he had arisen stared at Tony. “Now that you've found out.” said Mortimer coolly, “what do you hink you can do about it?” He laughed ever so casually. CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN RAGE had mastered Tony Knight. Her lips were trembling but she did not speak. She stared from the lovely blond-haired girl on the davenport to Mortimer, still smiling sneeringly. His composure had disarmed her. “I hate you!” screamed Tony at the man. "Oh. I hate you!” Mickey Mortimer turned solicitouslv toward the other girl. "I beg your pardon,” he said to her. "Will you excuse me. please? There seems to be some sort of—er—disturbance. It won’t take a minute.” Tony interrupted quickly. “Oh. don't think you'll get rid of me so easily. I won't go!” Mortimer straightened his shoulhers. He eyed her directly and coolly. “Since you insist upon having the truth, bluntly. Miss Knight,” he said, "allow me to tell you once and for all that my engagements, private or business, are not your affair. Furthermore. I do not recall inviting you here. Good afternoon.” Tony would not be stilled. She glared at Mortimer as her words came in a torrent. “So you admit it. do you? You admit you lied to me. Playing around with your little blond friend here. Let me tell you something Mr. Mickey Mortimer, and see that you remember it. I hate you! I loathe you! I never want to see your face again! And if you were the last man on earth I'd never speak to you!” She stamped her foot. Mortimer's back was toward her. “Tell me. Fritzi,” he was saying ito the blond girl, “what was the name of that song you liked so much last night? The one that went ta-da-da-DEE-da you remember, don’t you?”

—By Williams

He was as oblivious to Tony as though she had not been in the room. The other girl answered. In low, easy tones the pair resumed their conversation. Tony listened for an instant, then she whirled and flounced out of the apartment. Tears of anger nearly blinded her as she ran down the hall. “Oh!” Tony Knight choked. “Oh—!” It was all she could manage to say. Her fury was inexpressible. For several minutes she waited, forgetting to ring the elevator. It came at last. Tony stepped into the car and was swept downward. By the time she had reached the ground floor her power of speech had returned. She scolded, mumbling to herself, all the way down the street to where she had parked the roadster. Tony stepped into the car, swerved away from the curb and into the stream of traffic.. It did not mollify her spirit any that the street was crowded. # # # ONE block distant she was halted by a traffic signal. As Tony waited two large teardrops appeared on her cheek. She brushed them aside furiously. Steering a narrow course in the maze of vehicles, she finally reached the bridge. Fifteen minutes later the roadster was heading for open country. Dusk had settled before Tony arrived home. Faint traceries of brilliant color still marked the western sky but the orange sun had disappeared. Her father was reading in the living room. He glanced up as she appeared in the doorway. “Ready in ten minutes,” she called and hurried up the stairs. A subdued and thoughtful Tony sat opposite her father at the dinner table that evening. She had little to say and did not notice that Arthur Knight, too, seemed preoccupied. # # # Twenty-four hours later Knight was again alone in the living room of the big house. Sandy, the little Scotch terrier, at his master’s feet gazed up wistfully, Sandy had been doing that now quite regularly. "Guess you’re lonesome, too. old fellow, aren’t you?” Knight said as he stooped and rubbed the scruff of the dog’s neck. “Is that what’s the matter? Is it?” Sandy continued to gaze mournfully, but he wriggled in gratitude. Suddenly the dog straightened and pricked up his ears. The doorbell rang sharply. Knight listened, removed his glasses and frowned. Without waiting for the madi to answer, he hurried into the hall. Sandy followed as far as the doorway. Arthur Knight threw open the door. (To Be Continued) ..

THE BEASTS OF TARZAN

With the sinking of the Kincaid, Tarzan's heart sank, though he successfully hid his fears from Jane. There seemed slight chance now of their ever returning to England, save for the remote possibility of rescue by some passing ship. And many disasters might occur during the months they were likely to be marooned upon Jungle Island. Well, it couldn’t be helped, he told himself, as he sized up their almost hopeless situation.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

NO KIDDIN'— I'VE NEVER I KNOW. BUT GEE— WHAT'S YOUR ASKED YOU IT'S KINDA SILLY, DIFFERENCE DOES NAME—REALLY? YOURS CALLIN' YOU "SAY" IT MAKE? MY ALL TH' TIME! PHILOSOPHY IS YOU'VE NEVER TOLD TO TAKE THINGS ME A THING AS THEY COME— ABOUT YOURSELF— MAKE THE MOST AN' I'M AWFULLY OF THEM—AND CURIOUS NO YOU ASK MY NAME~ WHAT DO I DO~ WHO I AM~ WHERE I CAME FROM~ ALL FACTS! I HATE REALITY! WE BUT— THURSDAY, FEB 27— MET EACH OTHER HERE, FOR THE FIRST TIME— YOU DIDN'T KNOW ME— Met I HAD NEVER HEARD OF YOU— again today. Dogone GREAT!!! ITS FASCINATING! BUT, IF him, he still won't WE TOLD EACH OTHER ALL ABOUT put out a thing about OURSELVES, IT WOULDN'T BE himself I've met a lot SO INTERESTING of fella in my life, but this one has me stumped. Men are

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

WHATS COMIN' OFF? NO, SHE DIDN'T— —AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT— OLD ALLEY DOG, IS THAT PATSY FITTS THAT'S WHAT SHE'S IF IT WASN'T FOR THAT HUH!! HE'S A DOWN THERE TALKIN' LAYIN' OUT OSCAR OLD ALLEY DOG OF YOURS BETTER DOG TO OSCAR?? I FOR.....SHE'S THERE WOULDN'T HAVE THAN THAT OLD WONDER IF SHE FOUND HER CAT MADDR'N A BEEN A DOG SHOW AND CAT OF YOURS=

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

AFRAID TO FIGHT YOU FAIR, OOF! AINT NO MAN ALIVE HEY? YELLER, AM I? BY AS CAN—OOF!—WHIP OLD

SALESMAN SAM

GO PULL THAT GUY IN SAM, AN LEABE IT TA ME I WOULDN'T CARE IF IT WAS BUT, MY DEAR SIR IT'S A SELL HIM A FUR COAT—WE GUZZ! GEN-U-WINE GORILLA—I DON'T BARGAIN! WAS $1000, COAT!! NOW ONLY $10.98

MOM’N POP

OVER TO SCHMULT'S EH? WHERE'S SHE WENT WELL FROM THE WAY EVERY MOM? OVER TO THE BODY HAS BEEN CONGRATULATWHAT'S RAFFLE ING ME AND SLAPPING MY HAPPENED AT SCHMULTZ'S SPINE THE GUNN LUCK MUST ? STORE HAVE ABOUT

Never yet had he failed to find some way out of his difficulties. The first consideration was to locate fresh water and make camp, for their term of existence upon this out-of-the-way island might be drawn out for years. Tarzan knew the nearest water and to this he led the party. Here the men fell to work to construct shelters while Tarzan went into the jungle after meat.

—By Martin

He left the faithful Mugambi and the Mosula native woman—she who had hidden in the canoe that night his beasts came to the rescue—to guard Jane, whose safety he would never trust to any member of the Kincaid’s cutthroat crew. Lady Greystoke suffered greatly, though she tried to be brave, for the blow to her hopes in the knowledge that she might now never see her firstborn was almost more than she could endure.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

COME DOWN TO TH' WHAT!~~ OUR RADIO DAT'S OWL'S CLUB QUICK, STOLEN? ~EE-GAD! MISTAH MAJAH ~~YO' IS A KIND MAJOR!~ SOMEBODY I'LL GO RIGHT OVER! OB SKYLARK BUSTED IN AN' STOLE ~~HOPE NOBODY HAS HOLMES! ~WAIT, OUR RADIO!!~~ DISTURBED ANYTHING, AH'LL GET YO' ~~IT DIDN'T HAPPEN AS I WANT TO A TIN CAN FO' DURING TH' NIGHT INVESTIGATE THE TO PUT TH' BECAUSE SNUFFY AN' SCENE OF THE CRIME FINGET PRINTS HOGAN WERE THERE ALL LIKE I USED NIGHT, ON ACCOUNT OF SCOTLAND YARD! REG. U.S. PAT. OFF. © 1930 BY NEA SERVICE, INC.

MY KITTEN YEAH...SAYS WHICH?? HAD YOUR DOG ALONE ANY OLD DAY!! MY IT WOULD MAKE HIM DOG'S A REGULAR CLIMB A TREE FASTER CAT CHASER AN' THAN YOU COULD SAY IF HE EVER CAUGHT REG. U. S. PAT. OFF.

BLAST YOU! SHUT UP UGH! AND FIGHT. AND WGAT A FIGHT IT IS! TOE TO TOE! BOTH POUNDING AND SLUGGING EACH OTHER FOR ALL THEY'RE WORTH. BY NEA SERVICE, INC. REG. U. S. PAT. OFF.

LOOK, POP. I WON IT! WHERE? ON A WEST INDIES CRUISE! THE RAFFLE. OF IT'S SOME- HERE ARE THE TICKETS— BERMUDA, THING I'VE WANTED TO DO ALL WHAT? MARTINIQUE, TRINIDAD, BARBADOES, MY LIFE AND YOU'RE GOING WHERE THE PIRATES LIVED!! WITH ME!! ISN'T IT ROMANTIC? AND EVERYTHING FREE! ALL I NEED IS ABOUT TEN SUMMER DRESSES—THREE OR FOUR NEW EVENING GOWNS—SHOES AND WHAT

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

A daylight watch was maintained from sunrise to sunset upon a bluff near the camp which overlooked the sea. Here, ready for instant lighting at night they assembled a huge pile of dry branches and from a lofty pole floated a distress signal fashioned from the mate's red undershirt. But never a speck upon the horizon that might be sail or smoke rewarded the eyes that strained in vigil across the vast expanse of ocean.

FEB. 27, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan