Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 260, Indianapolis, Marion County, 11 March 1930 — Page 12

PAGE 12

OUT OUR'WAY

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BEGIN HERE TODAY THE CRUMt, Dons M-u'hews. lady’s inaid. i- murdprpd : ;h* . M’f,merhouse by blow with heavy perfume flask; body, rock-w iiznted. dumped : o lake on r.ta'e of mill omui’ Bercleva. DE7TECTIVES: Bonnie Dundee, guest of Berkeleys, and discoverer oi at sunrise swimming party; Captain Btrawn of Homicide Squad. MEMBERS OF HOUSEHOLD: Mrs. GEORGE BERKELEY, soil;! climber: Oeorge Berkeley, bitterly opposed to his daughter Cl.OitrNDA S engagement to SEYMOUR CROSBY. New York society widower and a close friend of Mrs. Berne;, -, ■<-. social secretary. MRS. LAMBERT; CLORINDA Bcrkele-" i'c, , ’ ■ 0101. who unaccountably sprinkled all gues’s Fridav nigiit with peciun.’■ *ro.n same flask used In murder, wlvn bottie i.as pr*s*i-l'tl to Mrs. Berkeley by Crosby: DICK Berkeley, infatuated with Deris and missing from his room ail night; EUGENE ARNOLD, chauffeur, engaged to Doris; WICKETT. the butler. Detectives scour estate for Dick Berkeley. while Dundee reconstructs crime, which he believes was Impromptu and committed by a mmeber ot the household. all of whom become suspects. After the girl’s body is removed from summerhous’ bv coroner, Dundee and Btrawn go to house, where inmates are in leueranre that the girl did not commit aulcide but has been murdered. Straw-* makes tiie startling announcement, alia adds that Dunc e is to assist him ill solving the murder. „ NOW GO ON WITH THE STOKE CHAPTER THIRTEEN BERKELEY broke the J silence. “Naturally, we re glad to have Mr. Dundee with us, though I am afraid his visit ” he began uncertainly. “I’ll explain. Mr. Berkeley,” Captain Strawn assured him. “Mr. Dundee is what I’d call a mighty clever amateur detective, though being what you might call an old-fash-ioned regular, I don't usually have much use for amateurs. “Criminologists, I believe, is the word he uses. He's studied Scotland Yard methods, and just this summer he did me a good turn on the biggest murder case we’ve ever had in Hamilton. “Getting material for books on the subject—that’s his game. He writes shorthand, too. and he’s goiijg to take down what you folks have to tell me ” “A detective! Are you really a detective, Bonnie Dundee?” Gigi cried, springing f r om Mrs. Lambert’s embrace and running swiftly across the room to seize Dundee’s hands and swing them with frantic joy. ”Oh. I’m glad! You won’t let the police bully us and be horrid, will you? “Os course. Captain Strawn looks like a gruff old darling bear ” and she whirled to pat the chief’s cheek impudently. “Woof! You do need a shave!” a a a "I know it,” Captain Strawn acknowledged ruefully. “Dundee hustled me out of bed and I didn't take time—but this is a serious business, young woman!” he interrupted himself sternly, though he could not keep his eyes from twinkling at her. “Now, is everybody here? Are you Mrs. Berkeley, ma'am?” he asked politch'. turning to Mrs. Lambert. Color swept over Mrs. Lambert's cttU beautiful but tired face. “I am Mrs. Lambert. Mrs Berkeley’s —secreiarv.” she said, her voice low but very clear "My wife is still sleeping. T believe.” George Berkeley explained stiffly. “At any “ate, she has not. come down yet. and no one has been to her room to tell b p r that—am- ’hing is- - v roi g. “If is—or was—her maid’s duty, to awaken her at 8:30. draw her bath and sene her breakfast in her room. Since —Doris ' “I sec.” Strawn interrupted. ’ We’ll go up and speak to her presently, but first, so v,e shan't be wasting time. I'd like for anybodv that's got- anything to tell me to speak up.*' . 808 XTO one moved or spoke for a i. w long minute, then Gigi. who had 3gain returned to the shelter of Mrs. Lambert's arms, laughed hysterically. “What! No confessions?” she cried, then burst into tears and hid her face against Mrs. Lambert’s breast as her father pronounced her name sternly. “Do you know a here your son is. Mr. Berkeley Strawn asked. “Dick?” The millionaire showed blank surprise “In his room. I surpcse. It is still rather early for him ” “He's not in his room and his bed hasn't been slept in.” Strawn cut in gTimly, and as ruthlessly ignored the flurry of exclamations and halfuttered questions which followed upon his revelation. “Now, Mr.

Berkeley, I’ll ask you to show Mr. Dundee and me to your wife’s room.” George Berkeley started to protest angrily, then checked himself abruptly, but his darkly handsome face was flushed and his nostrils flaring as he answered: “Certainly. This way ” “Just a minute. You folks stay right here. I don’t know your names, but—” “My daughters, Clorinda and Georgina; our guest, Mr. Seymour Crosby,” Berkeley obliged, his lips tightening over the name. “Oh! So this is Mr. Seymour Crosby?” Strawn pretended vast surprise. “I’ve read a lot about you, Mr. Crosby—always thought I’d like to meet you,” he added, his eyes narrowing significantly., Seymour Crosby flushed, but bowed, without replying. “Sorry you’ve got to run up against the police again, Mr. Crosby,” Strawn went on wickedly, “but I hope you’ll come out of this case with as clean a bill of health as you did out of the other one, sir.” Again Gigi sat up with a jerk and her round topaz eyes flashed excited, startled questions, but Strawn wheeled, grinning, to follow the master of the house from the room, Dundee hurrying after him. a a a MRS. BERKELEY’S rooms occupied the noreast corner of the house, her bedroom on the front and fitting into the tower which rose one story higher than the rest of the mansion. Between the enormous bedroom and the smaller sitting room, facing east, were the foyer and a large bathroom, all connecting so that the mistress of the house could pass from sitting room to bathroom, thence to her bedroom, and from the bedroom to the hall by way of the foyer. In addition, the sitting room and a door of its own directly into the halL The detectives did not note all these details in those first moments, however. They were listening for an answer to George Berkeley's knock upon the bedroom door. “She must be sleeping pretty sound,” Strawn whispered gustily, as Berkeley raised his knuckles to knock again. The little foyer was not brightly, but sufficiently, lighted from the sun that poured into the sitting room from the four French windows that opened upon a stone and wrought-iron balcony overlooking the east lawn and the lake. Tire blinds had not been drawn, and the sun rioted through eurtians of finest gold lace, so that there Mas more than light enough for Dundee to see George Berkeley's face go gray with fear. “Good lord! Docs he think she’s dead, too?” he asked himself. But at that moment a querulous voice called out: “Why are you knocking. Doris? For heaven's sake, come on in! I can't bear any hammering this morning!” Strawn and Dundee exchanged glances as the millionaire called soothingly: “It's George, Abble. Slay I come in?” “Have you thought up a lot of new arguments. George Berkeley? Well, so have I! But come on in. if you must! I'm still in bed and I've still got an awful head- ; ache ” Rather hastily, as if to cut her I short, Berkeley opened the door and I the two detectives, the younger with a word of apology, followed i him into the enormous and over-poM-eringly luxurious bedroom of the mistress of Hillcrest. While Mrs. Berkeley squealed and protested and questioned futilely, Captain Strawn strode to the darkened windows which filled the semi-circle formed by the tower of which the room was a part, and jerked up the shades. Painfully embarrassed, Dundee halted just inside the door while George Berkeley, in a low voice, explained that Strawn was a captain of detectives and that their guest, as an amateur criminologist, was there as his assistant. “But what in the world are detectives doing here, George?” Mrs. Berkeley shrilled, drawing an orchid satin comforter up to her chin.

—Bv Williams

“Has the house been robbed? Tell me—” “I’ll tell you, Mrs. Berkeley,” Captain Strawn interrupted, marching to the bed and looking down grimly upon its disheveled, haggard occupant. “But first I’d like to ask you when you last saw Doris Matthews, your maid.” “Doris!” Mrs. Berkeley squealed. “So that impertinent little snip is the thief, is she? I never trusted that girl, with her high and mighty airs and—” ana STRAWN shrugged, as he glanced toward Dundee. Then: “And when did you last see the crystal flask of perfume which Mr. Crosby presented to you last night?” “Oh!” the woman gasped. “So that's what became of my perfunc! I thought it was awfully queer that Wickett should disobey me, when I told him to take it straight to my room last night! “Quick, George! See if she took my jewels, too! Oh, the deceitful little wretch ” “Another question, Mrs. Berkeley,” Strawn interrupted harshly, “although you have not answered either of the other two: When did you last see your son?” “Dick? Why—oh you don’t mean —George, Dick hasn’t eloped with that awful little thief, has he? . . . Oh, my God! And my head’s splitting, too. George, why don’t you say something—tell me what all this means?” “Abbie, my dear,” her husband began sadly, “I am afraid this is all much more serious than stolen perfume and jewels. Please try to control yourself ” “If you'll pardo nme, Mr. Berkeley, I’ll do the explaining,” Captain Strawn cut in sharply. “Mrs. Berkeley, it is my unpleasant duty to inform you that Doris Matthews has been murdered!” “Murdered!” the woman gasped. Then she whispered the word, her lips—like red crepe paper—quivering over the word. “Murdered!” Then she lay back on her pillows, her disheveled, hennaed head rolling, the wrinkled lids falling over her faded, hard eyes. “And I must also inform you, Mrs. Berkeley,” Captain Strawn went on implacably, unmercifully, “that your son Dick is missing. “He did not sleep in his room last night, and we know that he made an appointment to meet the girl after the family was in bed.” As he spoke, the M'oman began to lift herself in bed, her ravaged fare turned toward the detective. “You think —Dick —? Oh, you’re a fool, a fool! My boy’s not a murderer! He*s dead, too! He killed them both, like he said he would! Oh. my God, my God!” “He?” Strawn echoed, as George Berkeley forcibly held his wife in bed. (To Be Continued)

THE BEASTS OF TARZAN

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Tarzan strained his eyes into the night toward the direction of the thing that had riveted his attention. . . . Again he saw it! Again it flashed across the blackness of the ocean waters. . Then he turned and called aloud to the men dozing beside the campfire. They came running to his side; but the stranger hesitated when he beheld the sleek panther by the side of the great white gaint.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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CfiTri(l!. IW. irr fcM-i-- ' '.i K(Sa rerri.

“Look!” cried Tarzan. “A light;” A ship’s light [ It MUST be the pearl schooner. They are becalmed!!” And then, with an exclamation of renewed hope: “We can reach them! The skiff will carry us easily.” The stranger demurred. “They are well armed, I tell you,” he warned. “We could not take that ship—just three of us!” . . . “There are four of us now,” replied the ape-man, pointing to Sheeta, “and we can have more still in half an hour l”

—By Martin

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“Sheeta is the equal of twenty men,” he continued, “and the few others I can bring will make our fighting strength that of a hundred men. You do not know them!!" The ape-man turned and raised his head tow T ard the jungle, while there pealed from his lips time after time the fearsome cry of the bull-ape who would summon his fellows. Presently from the jungle came an answering cry, and then another and another I

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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{ — t— ry \ /. A'.O NOD DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT y - THE VERT, VDLUTI CAL \ f THE TCV.’I LOOKS LIKE.YOU'D / THINGS YOU DO AT ’ V I RATHER S\T IN THE HOTEL AND PLAY i HOME* A LOT OF GOOD J l POKER. AND VIOW YOU SPEND YOU GET CUT CF 1 \ THE EVENING LISTENING TO A.RRIIE GOING PLACES " / N OVER THE RADIO vp ” iHr U/ ; % fewfH #l*' CvftA PM \ %CQ 7 rCvi-U

Q NOW \ &OTTPI e>UY \j> y * Qtft3o BY WCA SCRVICC. HC. pcs. U. S- PAT. Off. ‘S'W/f

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The deserter from the pearl-schooner shuddered. Among what sort of creatures had Fate thrown him? Were not Kai Shang and his murderous cut-throats to be preferred to this great white giant who stroked a panther and called to the beasts of the jungle? But if hia blood ran cold at sound of the weird cry tearing the jungle night, it was as nothing to the unbelievable thing that a moment later he saw come Pas*-

.MARCH 11, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan