Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 296, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 April 1930 — Page 13

mm, 22,

OUT OUR WAY

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AAAinrEpxA ■ v By juue ann Moore T^ P |NDEPCNQENT 3 SYNDICATE

SYNOPSIS MARY DELLA CHUBB. 18. pretty, 'nappy, the original exponent of IT, works in the watch shop and lives in a Hank street flat with her parents. Her closest Ctrl friend is MIRIAM BOBBIN . who also works in the watch and clock •hop. Having been warned bv Miriam about the RED MASY. brutal masked sluetrer who has been the terror of parkins couples In and around Waterhurv, Mipr Della Roes to meet JOE SPEAKS, her "steady company” in front of the post oice. But Joe fails to show up iid. anerv. Mary Della is crossing the strict alone when almost run down bv a long vellow roadster. She faints just as the car touches her. CHAPTER TWO NOW being ran down by an automobile on Grand street, between Leavenworth and Bank, is no distinction, and to save the tragic incident from the commonplace, It is necessary at this point to learn something about that exceptionally long and yellow roadster, and a good deal more about the handsome young man dneased in raccoon behind the wheel. If you were among the mourners at the Yale-Harvard game last November, you will recall the spectacular end run made by Calkman. They printed pictures of the handsome brute in every newspaper in the country and pointed out that Yale would have gotten a worse drubbing if it hadn't been for his quick head-work, his fast leg work, and his amazing stiff-arm work. We find Robert Henley Calkman 111 several months after that memorable holocaust, walking the floor of his room in Harkness hall. Stretched on the bed, hands under his head gazing at the ceiling, was George MacKray.' "Strange, old man,” George was saying, "but I have a vague recollection of your saying that you were to take me to Waterbury with you this afternoon. Forgot to tell Marjorie you were to bring me along?” Robert the Third continued to pace the floor. Occasionally he stopped before the mirror to jerk at his black bow tie. Handsome? Oh, girls! "Oh, don’t bother to explain,” George went on. still inspecting the ceiling "It's quite all right, I’m sure. And now that you’ve apologized, what’s chawing at your vitals?” Robert came to a stop, legs apart, hands in his pockets. "Hope you won t mind, George, but . . . well, things are serious. You understand ... I m ... ” "Oh, it’s all right,” George drawled “I hadn’t any idea you were just getting around to a proposal. old top. Fact is, I wonder Marjorie didn't pop the question herself after the Harvard game.” He put up both legs quickly to stop a speeding magazine. "Good Lord, but you're sensitive. Fortunes of war. Bob; we can't have everything, you know*. But iidnt Harvard have a rotten team!” "If you ever mention that game \gain." declared Robert the Third i a loud voice, “I'll—l'll report you o Tad Jones. Are you lying on my lat?” George suddenly sat up. “I say, nit you’re feverish. You don't think larjorie would turn you down, do ou?” "How do I know?” Robert delanded. "She's been going to a ood deal of trouble of late to let \s know there's some mad compe:tion. Young broker or something u the kind.” He shook himself ito a —must we say it?—raccoon oat. "I’ll be back early, George, lot to study for that darned exam omorrow.” And then he walked out into the all and down the stairs and a few ninutes later was stuffing himself nto an exceptionally long and yelow roadster. An exceptionally long and yellow oadster. So . . .? We are on the right track. Watson. a a a THE passenger list of the Mayflower included a Calkman. This fact was revealfd a good many years later by a descendant who went in for aristocracy with both feet and got his wife in the D. A. R. But having got her in, he died without knowing what to do about it. This descendant’s son was the first Robert Henley Calkman. who realized his father's mistake and decided to sacrifice respectability and go to work.

With his first million, his wife took up French, hired a Japanese servant and insisted upon an Italian car. The blood was running fairly blue again by now and it was inevitable that the son and heir, Robert Henley Calkman II should go to Yale. But after four years without a single varsity letter or fraternity pin. and nothing to show for his effort but a diploma, he went back home to look after his father’s factory. In time Robert the First passed out of the picture and Robert the Second, discerning the signs of the times, switched his millions to carburetors, exchanged his father’s mansion for a simple colonial and ordered his sensible wife to put the Calkman genealogy In the furnace, or at least in the attic. The Calkmans, you observe, were growing respectable once more, but on firmer ground. And then it came time to put Robert Henley Calkman 111 in college, and where else should he go but to Yale, where his father had made such a di.,Languished record, and might yet increase his contribution to the endowment fund by a million or so? a a a “T>UT my darling . . . you aren’t D really asking me to marry you?” Robert didn’t remember that he had mentioned the subject, but he had been headed in that general direction and she saved him a great deal of a poorly prepared speech. Bright girl, Marjorie. Always a jump ahead. "Os course, I am, Marge,” he assured her as he took her in his arms. "And why not, sweetheart? I’m foolish about you, darling. I’m mad about you.” He kissed her timidly. "You know I’m crazy about you. I’m ” He must have droped a line here, because he couldn't recall a single form of neurosis or insanity that he hadn’t exhausted. But it didn't matter, for at this point Marjorie Marabee caught his flushed cheeks between her hands and pressed her lips to his. “Oh, Bob . you really mean it . . . it’s too w< derful . . . darling . , .darling.” She kissed him again and again and closed the series with a kiss that threatened to put our better known movie actresses to shame. Robert the Third grew suddenly self-conscious. This was laying it on a bit thick, what? He had been audacious in considering a proposal when they had only known each other a few months ; and this was like the climax of a melodrama; it lacked motivation. Moreover, it seemed downright indecent not to meet with a struggle. "And you're going to be my big handsome husband and be nice to Margie and never get up cross in the morning and. ...” Robert heard her voice, was vaguely conscious that Marjorie gradually was insinuating herself onto his lap. The trouble was, he told himself, that it was all too good to be true. Why shouldn’t he be dazed when the sweetest girl in the world had promised to be his wife? Yes, why shouldn’t he? a a a HE put his arms about her once more and was about to resume where he had left off, the place where he was to say something about a little cottage on a hillside, when he sensed that they were not alone. "Mv dee-vah children . . .” Mrs. Marabee, standing just within the doorway, squinted through an enormous lorgnette in an effort to dissolve the impossible object on the couch before her. "Must I doubt my eyes ... .or have I been blind these many months? . . . Marjorie . . . my poor, dee-yah little Marjorie . . . .” Robert the Third found the situation not at all to his liking. Particularly since he could not rise to his feet without precipitating the clinging Marjorie the floor. He was very much the villain found out, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it save break down and plead for forgiveness. “Am I to understand that this Is quite the approved conduct among young people in this amazing age,

—By Williams

or am I justified in demanding an explanation?” "Why, I’m sure, Mrs. Marabee ...” Mrs. Marabee suddenly lowered her instrument and beamed on the young man. “How stupid of me . . . my dee-yah boy, it is all quite clear at last . . . and I had suspected nothing. Must I lose my little girl so soon? Ah, surely not . . . but she will be happy with her Robert. I see it in her eyes . . .” Which was really quite remarkable, since her little girl’s eyes not only were shut, but were buried in the dinner jacket of her young man's shoulder. Robert was fully conscious of his obligation. He should at this point assure the outraged mother of the heroine that his intentions had been most honorable and that he was not averse to a marriage ceremony. But for some reason he found these lines difficult. Then he did a most unexpected thing. He forcibly detached the young woman from his person, removed her from his lap to a place beside him on the couch, and got to his feet. "I hope, Mrs. Marabee, you understand that . . . you see, Marjorie and I . . •” Mrs. Marabee raised a protesting hand. “My darling boy, there isn’t the most remote call for an apology. I was only a bit shocked ... So unexpected, you know. But I’m shu-ah you will make my Marjorie most happy.” She clasped her hands to her heart and breathed a deep sigh. "And now,” she said, turning to the door, "I must tell Mr. Marabee that you wish to see him.” a a a LEAVING the Marabee home shortly before 8 o'clock in his exceptionally long and yellow roadster. Robert told himself he was a lucky young man. Marjorie had said “yes” and Mr. and Mrs. Marabee had added their consent. This is exactly what Robert thought as he drove down Willow street. The truth was, the Marabees quite by accident had only just discovered that Robert was the son of the Robert Henley Calkmans of Detroit, and some day would be disgustingly wealthy. “Marjorie's a wonderful girl,” Robert said to himself. "I might have been struggling there for hours if she hadn't come to my assistance and asked me if I was proposing. And her mother was a darn good sport, finding her daughter in my lap and trying to make the best of it. Altogether, it was a thoroughly successful venture. I’d say.” And yet, even this gullible young man was vaguely conscious that the evening had not been entirely complete, that something essential had been lacking from the moment he was met at the door by Mrs. Marabee and not by the maid. (To Be Continued.)

THE SON OF TARZAN

That which filled the lad-with excitement was the fresh spoor ol men—of white men, for among the Drints of naked feet were the outlines of shoes. The trail marked the passage of a goodsized company headed north, probably toward some coast settlement, the boy thought. He was all eagerness to be off in pursuit. The old ape objected. He wanted nothing of men. To him the lad was a fellow ape, for he was the son of the king of apes.

. THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

A /- Arffljy FISHIN’ 'SPATS, I 6£TCVtN-Og CJPv/f. n , wsm ofpa some whaler'. vmere's

SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

( 'C7 \t XT. \ WILL, m SIMPLY \ I’M THAT WAY, -BUT MY SYSTEM V I'VE BEEN CENTERING \ IN A PANIC'. IT l I TOO. I CAN KEEPS PILING / ALL MY ATICN ,!ON \ TOOK ON WEIGHT \ EXERCISE AND UP THE SURPLUS / JUST BELOW M>Y CAPS EVENLY IT WOULDN’T \ CUT OUT THE i IN ONE SPOT, IF I AND ’sHOULDERS-BENDING, BE SO BAD BUT- /\ EATS — / YOU KNOW A CHIN EXERCISES.RUBBER J Vv WHAT V MEAN / GIRDLES, BUT ~

He tried to dissuade the boy, but without success. A few hours later they came upca the rear guard of the white men’s caravan he was so anxious to overtake. Stumbling along the tangled trail of those ahead, a dozen heavily laden blacks were being prodded mercilessly forward. On each side of them walked two giants, blond white men, both using heavy whips on the naked backs of the poor natives. The boy's cry of greeting died on his lips.

—By Martin

Even the great ape growled beneath his breath at the useless torture being inflicted. "So these are the creatures you would go with?” he muttered to the lad. “They ARE fiends,” replied the boy, "but I will ask them where is the nearest port, and then. Akut, we can leave them.” So saying he swung to the ground,starting at a brisk walk toward the "safari.” He was a hundred yards away, perhaps when one of the whites caught sight of him.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

t§ ~ A3oLrr FiFfeeM vears ago • V T ? Vi \\ A XfPu]Ea-. big cMump weM-f oviwHe >! vJoßtcep^ | s<AGe varies a Hvp^o-Ti^rask&p * /,H .o'x vv \ TOR AMP H£ J Ajr a X coULPM’-r Be brdugHY ou-r cf \\\s [ ee-6ap, pip i scumps J-TRAMce A< WHA-r Wiwe BV FiMcsER jr I MeAR SMAPPIMG <o puluiaJs a cofk k A Bcrfl'LE , uir-fH A LOUP T>oP t \l c VSMtP, I TH’Ev/gMiUG I AMP rs VUORKBPw-THA-T'S- )S. , * R BREEI6 | cTx VOHV I SUGGeS-TEP PULUMG "THE /. T •OH , HELLO )T-fo Him J | l l CORK OUT* OF "THIS VIMEGAR A. / EUEtWBODV. Bo"T<ue oM Him ; fw . GIVJE rs A GOOP^r^^^y^' nt stffnct. wc nec^.u 5 ’ P * T -2C..^^

■ fioUL IH TU:S

r“" / —/V V -NO MATTER HOW / WELL l SKIP A ROPE /-IN SPITE OP EVERYTHING ( ISN'T FAT WARD t TIGHT IT 1 / AND WALK. MILES AND I \ KEEP GETTING HEAVIER J TERRIBLE? ITS KEEP GETTING / LIE ON MY BACK V BELOW THE WAIST. / JUST LIKE HEAVIER ABOVE / AND PEDAL LIKE \ / UGHTNiNG-YOO THE WAIST J I WAS RIDING > V. NEVER KNOW WHERE X A BICYCLE, BY THE to SlT? o 'cf* k " Ay v onaoßYwe* tcuviecwc

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The man gave a shout of alarm, instantly leveling his rifle upon the boy and firing. The bullet struck Just In front of its mark, scattering turf and leaves against, the boy’s legs. A second later the others were firing hysterically at him. Jack leaped into a tree, unhurt, the ape climbing excitedly after him. As the two disappeared, so quickly and in such manner, the white men and natives huddled together to determine just what to do.

PAGE 13

—By Ahern

—By BlosseS*

—By Crand

—By Small

—By Cowan;