Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 254, Indianapolis, Marion County, 4 March 1930 — Page 10

PAGE 10

OUT OUR WAY

MURDER BACKSTAIRS BY ANNE AUSTIN COPYRIGHT BY NEA SERVICE

BEGIN HERE: TODAY Almost from the time ne arrives at Hillcrest. home of the millionaire BERKLEYS, for a week-end. DETECTIVE DUNDEE feels premonitions of disaster. In the household are: Mr and Mrs. Berkeley; DICK, tipsy profligate; CLORINDA, engaged to Crosby; GIGI, 15-year-old sub-deb: MRS LAMBERT, social secretary- and a friend of Crosby's; WICKETT. butler; DORIS MATTHEWS lady's maid, and EUGENE ARNOLD, chauffeur, to whom Doris is engaged. Dundee puzzles over several questions: Why is Clorinda marrying Crosby. when she is still in love with JOHN MAXWELL? Why did Clorinda steal out of the house after 11 o'clock? Why did Gigi snatch the crystal flask of French perfume, presented to her mother by Crosby, and sprinkle all the guests with It? Did Doris Matthews, the maid, meet Dick Berkeley as he had forced her to agree to do? If not. where was Dick? And lastly, why were Mr. and Mrs. Berkeley quarreling so violently In the library after 11? Did Berkeley suspect, all that Dundee suspected, concerning Crosby and his wife's death? The next morning Gigi commands Dundee to join a sunrise swimming parry. The odor of perfume is strong about the lake. Gigi dives in first. rises with horror on her face. Dundee dives after her then commands Clorinda to take Gigi to the house. He commands Crosby to stay. NOW GO ON WITH THF STORY CHAPTER SIX (Continued) When the detective rose the second time, after a long minute under water, his face was a ghastly gray-white. But he did not speak until powerful overhand strokes had brought him swiftly to the springboard. Gigi stared up at him. dumb with horror, and he comforted her with a hard grip of her shaking shoulders before he addressed Clorinda Berkeley. "Take your sister to the house immediately, Miss Berkeley . . . Crosby, I’ll need your help." CHAPTER SEVEN “MURDER! ” Bonnie Dundee replied curtly to Seymour Cosby's question, but he spoke in a low voice so that the dreadful word should not reach the ears of the two girls who were on their way to the house. Gigi had held back at first, hysterically asserting her right to stay since she had already seen "it." but Clorinda had jerked her small sister roughly to her feet and had dragged her away. Oddly, Clorinda had not asked a single question. Now Gigi had broken into a blind, zigzag run. one hand pressed against her eyes which had seen a sight they would never forget. . . . “Murder?" Crosby repeated incredulously. “Who?” “Please go to the summerhouse. Crosby, and wait for me there, but I warn you not to touch anything," Dundee instructed sternly, ignoring the older man's question, rather as if he thought Seymour Crosby already knew the answer, and there was no need to waste time or words. An angry flush replaced the dead pallor of Crosby's cheeks, and he parted his lips to speak, then thought better of it and turned away, running toward the summerhouse in a jog trot. Dundee stared after the running man with narrowed eyes, then, taking a deep breath, he plunged into the lake again. Once more he came to the surface many feet short of the spot where his dreadful work was to be done. Treading water, he glanced toward the little summerhouse. Seymour Crosby stood on the first of the three narrow steps leading down into the water, a trembling hand shading his eyes rom the sun. “A rather terrible form of third degree for him. if—” Dundee said to himself, as he executed a surface dive that carried him to the spot directly in front of the summerhouse. where Gigi had discovered her "mermaid." # # # AFTER nearly a minute of frantic work under water, the young detective rose again, his agonized lungs demanding great, deep draghts of air. As his chest heaved hurtingly. Dundee glanced upward toward Crosby again. He apparently had not moved a muscle, except in that trembling hand that still shaded his eyes. “Just a few seconds more down there, thank God!” Dundee called to Crosby, and dived again. When he rose once more he was towing a burden by the hair —an inert burden which could offer no hampering resistance, except that of weight, and now that he had done his grewsome work below water, the weight towed was pitifully light. . . .

“Lend a hand. Crosby!” he panted. But for a moment Seymour Crosby seemed too frozen with horror to obey. The hand which had been shielding his somber dark eyes from the sun now pressed frantically against them, to shut out the dreadful sight. “Id rather not try to manage alone. Crosby!” Dundee called sternly. “I don’t want to bruise — her. Kneel down on the bottom stop and lift her by the shoulders, please." Seymour Crosby came out of his trance of horror sufficiently to kneel as commanded, and his white lips began to babble: ‘Why, it’s—Doris! Doris! Doris! I thought at first it was Letitia— Mrs. Lambert—” “Did you?” Dundee grunted noncommittally. But he told himself that if Crosby’s horrified astonishment was assumed, he was doing it rather well. . . . “That's right! Not very heavy, is she, poor girl? ... Careful! Don’t knock her head against the bench. . . . Now!” And between them they laid the body of Doris Matthews, the lady's maid, upon the wide bench that encircled the round floor of the summerhouse. The pale-gold hair, which Dundee had admired the night before when he had seen it curling about the flushed, beautiful little face and knotted in a shining bun on the nape of the w-hite neck, hung below the hard bench now in long, dripping strands, the color of wet sand. The slender body was clad in the plain black silk uniform she had been wearing when Dick Berkeley had forced her to dance, importuning her tipsily to meet him. But her little white apron of lace and lawn was missing, and the full skirt of her dress was bound about her knees with a clumsily tied silk scarf of many colors. "Couldn’t it be—suicide?” Crosby stammered, his teeth chattering. “If you had seen me untying that scarf to take out the rocks with which the body was weighted down, you wouldn’t ask that,” Dundee retorted. "I left them piled together on the floor of the table, to be retrieved and examined by the police—” “The police?” Crosby repeated, and Dundee saw his face grow even more bleak and gray. And Dundee knew that this new horror was reminiscent. “But of course—” he conceded jerkily. # # # OF course!” Dundee agreed harshly. “Didn’t I tell you it’s murder? Look at that gash across the top of her head! .... No, don’t touch her! We’ve done all we can do until the police arrive. “Please step outside and wait till they come. I’m going to telephone myself." He glanced toward the house, saw a man emerging from the back door. “Wickett —and heading this way. Coming to see what’s up. I suppose. I’ll wait for him." he added to Crosby, who had staggered blindly out of the summerhouse. Dundee remained inside. One of his senses had been telegraphing an insistent message to ills brain and now he had time to take it in. Fleur d' Amour! The little opensided, circular arbor was reeking with the perfume which Seymour Crosby had presented to Mrs. Berkeley the night before and which Gigi had splashed madly upon every,- person in the room. Kneeling so that his nose almost touched the floor, the detective confirmed his instinctive suspicion. Undoubtedly the crystal flask had been broken here, for in one of the broad cracks of the flooring he found a sliver of glass, as bright as a diamond in the sun. Still crouching, he let his eyes rove over the floor, and across that pan of the circular bench not occupied by the body. Yes, the blow that had killed or stunned Doris Matthews had been struck here, for the murderer's hand had hastily, clumsily swabbed a section of the floor and of the bench. Very near the bench to the left of the steps leading into the water, there was a faintly brownish stain, which the hasty swabbing had not been able entirely to obliterate. Blood! He was about to rise when his

—By Williams

eyes caught sight of something several feet aw T ay, on the floor against the three-foot wall which formed a back for the circular bench. He was about to pick it up when he remembered the necessity for preserving fingerprints. He let it lie. It was the big crystal stopper from the perfume flask. “Has there been an—accident, sri?” Wickett called, his voice quavering like an old man’s. “No, Wickett! Not an accident. Murder” Dundee answered with brutal directness, for there was no time now for sparing feelings. “I am going to telephone to the police, and I think you and Mr. Crosby had better remain where you are. "By no means go into the summer house, and let no one else enter it until the police arrive. Have you spread the word that there’s been an ‘accident’?” he added, ignoring the butlers’ horrified quaverings. “No, s-sir. I s-saw Miss Gigi and Miss Clorinda returning. They seemed upset, but Miss Clorinda would not let Miss Gigi explain. I— I though one of you gentlemen had been hurt, sir.” # # # BUT before the butler had finished his explanation Dundee was sprinting for his dressing gown, discarded at the springboard. Struggling into it, he cut across to the cement walk which led directly from the summerhouse diagonally across the lawn to the driveway that curved about the back of the house. His trained mind automatically made note of the fact that the murderer’s feet, if the murderer had come from the Berkeley house, need not have left the hard, unbetraying surface of cement, whether the exit from the house had been made by front door or rear. For the broad driveway completely encircled the house. But the shortest route to the summerhouse was, of course, from the rear door. To his own knowledge, Clorinda Berkeley had stolen out last night by the back door. And it was her modemistically patterned Batik scarf with which the stone-weighted skirts of the maid had been tied! But Dick Berkeley had also stolen out of the house, to keep a rendezvous with the girl who was now dead. And Dick Berkeley was missing, or had been missing as late as half an hour ago. Two suspects already. . . . The back door was not latched. The detective entered and strode swiftly but quietly toward the butler’s pantry, which had a telephone, he knew. As he passed an open door on the opposite side of the hall he heard a flat, indignant female voice declaring:

(To Be Continued)

THE BEASTS OF TARZAN

In Tarzan’s camp, by dint of threats and promised rewards, the ape-man had finally succeeded in getting the hull of a large skiff almost completed. Much of the work, ne and Mugambi had dene with their own hands, in addition to furnishing the camp with meat. Tarzan sensed the undercurrent of unrest, especially that of the constantly grumbling mate, but since he could not lay his hands on anything tangible for open distrust, he decided to await developments.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

I'M TELLIN' YA IT'S APT WELL, I'VE SEEN MY IDEA IS THIS—SA-AAY! THAT ISN'T T'BE WORSE'N WE THINK! T'SEVEN FORTUNE ONE OF US OUGHTTA A BAD IDEA BOOTS IS OVER THERE, TELLERS, N' THEY RUN OVER N'SEE FOR ONE OF US PRACTICALLY BY HERSELF ALL SAID EVERY- WHAT IT'S ALL TO JUST DO THAT AN' NOW SHE'S GOIN' THING WOULD BE ABOUT WITH, AN' MEBBE FOR, HOTSY—THEY SOME CLOWN WHOM DIDN'T SAY FOR NONE OFUS KNOW A WHO THOUGH THING ABOUT OF COURSE, UH~~TH' YEAH~ HEH! WELL? HOW NEXT HEH! ABOUT ME? QUESTION IS WHICH I COUL HE, LISTEN-HEY! ONE OF US GO FER~~!! US

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

YOU MEAN MY DOG OH-HE'S STILL ALIVE=VERY I GOTTA FIND OUT IS GONE?? HE MUCH= SOME PEOPLE CAME WHO'S GOT MY DOG WASN'T A BAD DOG....IN AND SAW HIM AND LIKED NOW= I DON'T SEE WHY DID YOU DO HIM SO WELL THAT THEY AWAY WITH HIM HOME WITH TELL ME WHO

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

TUBBS HAPPY DAY! DIDN'T YOU SEE ME? WHY, AFTER I KNOCKED BULL OUT I SIMPLY TOOK THE BUT HOW IN THE ROLL FROM HIS POCKET. THEN I WRAPPED

SALESMAN SAM

I JUST MET COLONEL COLT AN' NOW DON'T KICK OVER TH' MIGOSH, SAM! YA KNOW WE WELL, YOU SAID FER SO I PUT FREE THAT WAS A SMART HE WANTS TA KNOW IF TH' SIGN TRACES, GUZZ! WAIT CAN'T AFFORD TA DO THAT! TWO BITS YOU'D CUT SIGN ON TH' SADDLE NOW I'M GONNA GIVE YOU YA GOT ON A SADDLE IN TH' TILL WE GET IN TH' WHAT TH' HECK PUT OUT SELLIN' HARNESS, TO"STIRRUP" BUSINESS! ONE! STORE IS A JOKE OR NOT— SOTRE AN' SEE FOR YERSELF— THAT IDEA INTA 'CAUSE IT DON'T PAY—

MOM’N POP

THEY'RE OFF! MOM N' POP SAIL AT MIDNIGHT ON THE GOOD SHIP GALGARIC ON A WHOOPEE JAUNT TO THE ROMANTIC WEST INDIES. S'LONG POP GOOD BYE MOM GOOD-BYE! GOOD-BYE POP! GOOD-BYE MOM! GOOD-BYE! GOOD-BYE! BE A GOOD GIRL AMY! GOOD-BYE!

Upon the day which the mate and Kai Shang intended to carry out their carefully laid scheme to sail away on the pearl ship, Lord Greystoke set out at noon to hunt deer in the jungle for meat which Mugambi reported he had seen there the day before. Biding his wife a fond farewell and as usual cautioning the faithful Mugambi to watch over her, the ape-man swung easily through the tangled verdure of the forest.

—By Martin

Along the game trail he plunged deep into the jungle and joy sang in his heart. Never was he more nearly the Tarzan of old than when in the leafy solitudes of the jungle he stalked some wild game. He moved leisurely, sometimes upon the ground and again among the lower branches of the trees, gathering an occasional fruit or turning over a fallen log in search of the larger bugs which he still found as palatable as of old.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

SAY, MR. YOOPLE ~ WAN MORNIN' EGAD, OLE LAST VEEK THEY VOS A FALLER COME WAS THAT?~ OOP HERE WHEN I BANE CLEANIN' OUT TH' OWL CLUP! ~WAL, HE SAYS IT, PLEASE TO ME, ARE YOU BAYLONG TO THIS CLUP?~ I SAY, NO, I YUST BE YANITOR!~ WAL, HE SAYS "SAX TIMES I BE OOP HERE, BUT FIND TH' DUMP LOCKED!~ THEN HE SAYS HE BE FROM RADIO STORE AN' FOR TWO MONTH AIN'T VOS NO INSTALLMENT PAY ON

WELL, FRECKLES=I'LL HOW'LL YOU KNOW NO- IT'S VERY SIMPLE—IT SEEMS TO SOON HAVE MY DOG WHO HAS HIM? I'LL GO AND RING EVERY ME YOU'RE BACK—SOMEBODY'S ADVERTISE IN LAST DOOR BELL IN VERY SIMPLE ADOPTED HIM FROM THE TH' PAPERS TOWN—VERY !! DOG FOUND....BUT I'LL ?? SIMPLE...VERY SOON HAVE HIM SMPLE"

WELL, THAT WAS GUESS AN' WOT WELL, I THOUGHT O' THAT, WORK. I JUST FIGURED IF BULL FINDS TOO. YOU BETTER HIDE IT AND A WONDER! DAWSON WOULD BE AFRAID OUT YOU PLAY DUMB, LADDIE. MOST BUT HOW DID HIS THIEVING CREW WOULD SUBSTITUTED LIKELY, THO, HE'LL SUSPECT KNOW HE FIND IT, IF HE HID IT.

BUT OUR CABIN IS UP ON THE NEXT DECK, FORWARD. I ASKED ONE OF THE NURSES. ONE OF THE NURSES! WHAT NURSES? THAT'S HER! NURSES! WOW! HA! HA! RIGHT OVER POP, WHAT A LANDLUBBER REG. U. S. PAT. OFF. ©1930 BY NEA

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

He had covered a mile or more when his attention was attracted by the scent of a herd of small deer. Mingled with that was the faint trace of a different and strange spoor. He knew not yet the nature of the thing that moved .so stealthily through the jungle. But curiosity beset him and toward this new prey the ape-man turned his silent way. swinging swiftly through the upper terrace of the tree-tops with the grace and ease of a monkey.

MAR. 4, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan