Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 268, Indianapolis, Marion County, 20 March 1930 — Page 12

PAGE 12

OUT OUR WAY

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BEGIN HERE TODAY DORIS MA'rTHEWS, lady's maid, Is murdered Frldav night, in a summerhouse on the Berkeley estate, by a blow with a heavy perfume flask, presented to MRS. GEORGE BARKELEY by SEYMOUR CROSBY The body. Tockwelghted and tied with CLORINDA BERKELEYS scarf. Is taken from the iake Saturday morning by DETECTIVE DUNDEE. who summons CAPTAIN STRAWN. Under suspicion are: Mr. and Mrs. George Berkeley, who have quarreled late Friday night over Clorinda's engagement to Crosby, close friend of the social secretary. MRS. LAMBERT; GIGI BERKELEY, who sprinkled every one Friday night with perfume from murder flash, later placed in Mrs. Berkeley's bathroom by WICKETT. butler; DICK BERKELEY, who. after having been missing turns up chile his mother is acousing EUGENE 'RNOI.D, chauffeur, of having murdered both Doris and Dick out or Jealousy. Dick admits lie wanted to marry Doris, but that she repelled his attentions. Mrs. Berkeley is forced to admit she slapped Doris while the maid was dressing her lor dinner because Doris ■said she used too much perfume; admit* also she instructed Doris to wait up for her, but says Doris was not there when she iMrs. Berkeley) went up to bed ftt 11 MO. Rouged print cf Doris' mouth on bathroom mirror proves girl was there and that a struggle took place. Clorinda Berkeley admits seeing Doris just before 11. sir s Doris wore no rouge then; says Doris <bd not tell her she had appointment to meet Dick Berkeley; is llnallv forced to admit she did not go to bed. but stole out of the house for a walk about the grounds about 11. Strawn asks if she was alone on the walk. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY (Continued) “I know he had forced Doris to agree to meet him last night, and I wanted to persuade him to abandon the adventure.” “I see,’* Clorinda said icily. ‘‘Dick seems to have been particularly unfortunate in his choice of a weekend guest.” ‘‘Don't. Clo;” Gigi protested brokenly. Dundee could feel the trembling of her small body against his knees, and involuntarily he laid his free left hand gently on the bright, bowed head. She reached up blindly and clung ro his fingers with both her small brown hands—desperately, as If to a life line. Poor kid. he thought, pity- < ingly. She had fought hard to pro- j lect, her sister, and she had lost. What had she known, or sus-! pected? Oh, the scarf, of course! ‘•Very well, then!” Clorinda capitulated suddenly. “I—l had a headache. I took a long walk about the grounds. I walked over the west part of the estate first, then to the south wall, and finally around the lake.” “And. were you alone on this long walk. Miss Clorinda?” Strawn asked genially, now that his witness was tractable. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE “✓CERTAINLY 1 was alone!” Clorinda Berkeley answered emphatically. Gigi’s convluslve grip on Dundee's left hand loosened slightly. “You didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to enjoy a lovers’ stroll with your future husband. Mr. Seymour Crosby?” Strawn suggested. “I have told you I was alone, but allow me to correct you. Mr. Crosby is not my future husband!" “Whoops, dearie!” Gigi shouted gleefully. “I was betting you wouldn’t go through with it—” “When was the engagement broken. Miss Clorinda?’’ Strawn asked suavely. “This morning, when Mr. Crosby and I were walking together to the ake. I told him that since my ather was opposed violently to the uarriage it could not take place." “And why is your father opposed > the marriage?” “You must ask him.” Clorinda rented, and closed her eyes wearily. “Do you want to marry Crosby. .liss Clorinda?'* The answer was in Clorinda's rostiest voice: "I fail to see how hat concerns you or the case you ire working on. Captain Strawn! ” “Darling you are so haughty!” ligl laughed hysterically. “So you went walking alone. Miss ‘Torinda” Strawn resumed urbane,y. “How*' long were you out?” “Oh. I don’t know!” irritably. "An hour, pcssibly. ’ “Did you see any one—any one at all—on this walk?" “No one!” ‘You say you walked around the lake. Just when was that part of the trip made?” Strawn pressed her. ‘That was the conclusion of mv walk. I crossed to the lake from the outh part of the grounds, walked east first and then circled the lake on my way to the house.” “And stopped to rest in the sumne*tiouse?“ Strawn pounced.

r T~'HE black eyes flew wide. “No! -*• I didn’t stop at the summer house at all!” “Then, Miss Clorinda. can you explain how your batik silk scarf came to be there?” the detective asked softly. “My scarf! In the summer house! Why, that’s ridiculous! It wasn’t there at all!” “Then perhaps you have another explanation of how it came to be tied around Doris Matthews’ knees when her body was taken from the lake?” Strawn said with dreadful casualness. “Around her knees?” Clorinda repeated blankly. Then she must have realized her danger, for she sat bolt upright on the leather couch. “But that’s impossible, I tell you! It must have been another scarf, somewhat similar to mine ” “You admit, then, that you were carrying a silk scarf in your hands when you left the house?” Strawn caught her up triumphantly. “No, because it is not true.” Clorinda answered more calmly. “I was carrying a silk scarf until I reached the back hall, but I dropped it to the floor when I was slipping the chain and bolt of the outside door. I did not miss it until I stepped outside and a slight breeze lifted my hair. I did not return for it, however, as the night was warmer than I had thought, and I liked the feeling of the wind in my hair.” “You see, she had no marcel to get mussed.” Gigi struck in eagerly. “Her hair’s naturally wavy— Oh!” she broke off. then rushed on with tremendous excitement: “Oh. Clo! How terrible! If you dropped your scarf inside the back hall, that means that the person who murdered poor Doris was somebody who was in this house last, night!” She stared round-eyed for a minute. then, struck with another thought: “Or maybe Doris herse* picked it up on her way out to see Arnold, not knowing he couldn’t meet her. Os course that's what happened!” she concluded, and subsided against Dundee’s knees again. Strawn and Dundee exchanged glances before the chief resumed. “How near to the summerhouse did you pass. Miss Clorinda, on your way to the house!” “Quite near. Within twenty feet of it, I should say.” she answered coolly. “I walked across the grass almost to the back door, since that was a shorter route than to go clear to the summerhouse and strike the cement walk there.” “Did you see or hear anything; happening in the summerhouse?’.’ ! “Nothing!” j “You heard no scream at any time during your walk?” “No! Nothing, I tell you!” “No splash as of something being dumped into tire water?” Strawn persisted. “I tell you I heard nothing!” Clorinda retorted angrily. “But did you—smell something when you got near to the summerhouse?” “I presume you mean the perfume,” Clorinda said coldly. “You seem to know so much, I am sure you are already aware that my sister sprinkled Fleur d'Amour upon every person who was in the drawing room last night. ’ Since my dress was reeking with the stuff, of course I smelled it. I did not notice a stronger odor near the summerhouse, if that is what you mean.” ts a o “\JLTHY did you splash tnat perVV fume around, young woman?” Captain Strawn turned sternly to Gigi. “You may call me Gigi. Every one does,” she grinned engagingly. “I don't like this ‘young woman' stuff as much as I thought I would. . . But you have asked me an embarrassing question. Guess you'll have to get out your old handcuffs, because —I’m not going to tell you!” "Gigi did that foolish stunt for the same reason she does almost everything else.” Clorinda enlightened them coldly. "She adores being noticed, and her chief sport is to annoy mother.” “And I thought I was making the plot so thick it would curdle,” Gigi mourned, but Dundee saw the smile she had flashed at her sister, and

—By Williams

he knew there was gratitude in it . . . “Is there any way ycru could fix the time you returned to the house, Miss Clorinda?” Strawn persisted. ‘‘l don’t think so. . . . No, wait! I remember winding my watch when I was undressing for bed. At that time it was 10 minutes after 12. I had then been in the house about five or' six minutes, I think.” “Did you see your scarf when you let yourself in by the back door?” “No, but I had forgotten all about it. There is always a dim light in the back hall, however, as there is in the front hall, and I feel sure that I should have seen it if it had been there.” “Did you, on your way out or on your return, observe a letter or note lying on the back hall table?” Strawn asked suddenly. “A note? . . . No. I don’t think I even glanced toward the table.” “Now, Miss Clorinda, when you returned to your room, which stairs did you take?” “The back stalls. When I reached the second floor landing I listened, heard not hing, aad tiptoed to my room.” “Why did you tiptoe?” “I was afraid mother might have discovered my absence, and that she was listening for my return. On my way out, I heard her voice from the library, and knew she and father were having another session over my engagement to Mr. Crosby. That was one reason I took the walk. I knew they would be quarreling about it again, and I was in no mood for another scene. I stayed out till I felt fairly sure mother -would be asleep, unless she had discovered my absence and was watching for me.” n a “ A ND did you see your mother after your return?” “No. I saw no one, and heard not the faintest sound. I thought; I was safe,” she said wearily. “You thought you had committed your murder and got away with it, eh?” Strawn asked softly. “I ? You’re being absurd!” she cried angrily. “Why should I, of all people, kill Doris Matthews, the most lovable, faithful, inoffensive ” Tears choked her voice for the first time during the gruelling interview. “Darling Clo!” Gigi sprang to her sister’s side and dropped on her knees, cuddling the slim, white hands against her tanned cheeks. “Haven’t you ever read any detective stories, precious? They always accuse everybody, whether they think they are guilty or not. Don’t mind, sweet! Gigi won’t let them bother you any more!'* “Says you?” Strawn grinned. “Yeah, says I!” Gigi blustered, shaking her fist at him. “Nevertheless, and notwithstanding, Miss Clorinda, I am going to ask you to take us to your room now.” (To Be Continued)

E SON OF TARZAN

Their American expedition successfully ended, the officers and scientists, filled with compassion for the pitiful wreck of a man they had rescued from the jungle, gave Paulvitch money and wished him and his Ajax good luck. Back in civilization, the Russian had his hands full with the ape. Each new face must be carefully scrutinized, much to the horror of many of his victims. In London, Paulvitch took his prize to a famous animal trainer.

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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MOM’N POP

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This man, much impressed with the ape’s intelligence, agreed to train him for the lion's share oi the profits of exhibiting him. Meanwhile, he would provide for the keep of both the ape and its owner. It was not many weeks before Ajax was taught to ride a bicycle, eat %vith a knife and fork, count up to ten and do a number of remarkable stunts. One of the leading music halls booked thrk act, and Ajax became the public's latest fadX \

—By Martin

\ Rs SOVI' OF Qy.)^ ~CyERV MUCH 1 J Q ;

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Lady Greystoke lingered over the Times as she breakfasted in her cheerful boudoir and awaited an appointment with her sons' tutor. A glowing account of the marvelous Ajax’ “debut" had Idly caught her attention. What memories that ape's picture conjured up to the beautiful, cultured woman! Romance, thrills, danger and love in the untamed Jungle! What contrast —those experiences with the happy, even tenure of her .present days.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

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Rarely did she speak of those years now, even to her husband. That was the past. Few, indeed, knew that the handsome Lord Greystoke had been the savage Tarzan of the Apes. Next to her deep love for her husband. Lady Greystoke’s thoughts centered about her 12-year-old son. A ligh tap at the door brought her abruptly from the brief reverie induced by Ajax’ picture. Smilingly she greeted the worried-looking young tutor.

.MARCH 20, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan