Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 297, Indianapolis, Marion County, 23 April 1930 — Page 12

PAGE 12

OUT OUR WAY

.

Mwmia ' JULTE ANN MOORE T c Hi p rN^lg?ND 6^TvNol^TE

SYNOPSIS MARY DELLA CHUBB. 18. prettv, snappy the original exponent of IT. works in the clock end watch shop and lives in a Bank Street Hat with her parents. Her closest girl friend Is MIRIAM BOBBIN, who also works in the clock shop. Havlnß been warned bv Miriam about the RED MASK, brutal masked sludger who has been the terror of parking couples in and around Waterbury. Mary Della goes to meet JOE SPEAKS, her "steady company” in front of the postoffice. But Joe falls to appear and. angry. Mary Della Is crossing the street alone when almost run down bv a lone, yellow roadster. She faints Just as jjje car touches her. A young man In coonskin coat Jumps out hurrldelv. This young man is ROBERT HENLEY C'ALKMAN. m. one of THE Calkmans of Detroit. Yale senior, and Just accepted as a prospective husband bv MARJORIE MARABEE who lives on fashionable Cracker Hill. Robert is afraid he has killed Mary Della. CHAPTER TWO (Continued) He crossed West Main street and continued down Meadow to Grand. He tried to make out the time on the station tower clocks as he followed the curve of a building around the corner, but nothing but a starling can see the faces of those clocks after dark, and then he must be roosting on the hands. There were few vehicles on Grand street, and as he passed Library park he pressed on the accelerator. He shot by the library, crossed Leavenworth street on the green light and continued toward Bank street at a good clip. “Damn!” he exclaimed suddenly. “That girl must be deaf.” He blew his horn, a musical affair made more to amuse than to warn. But the young woman crossing the street seemed to be in no hurry to reach the other side. He applied the brakes. The car rocked dangerously, but lost some of Its speed. But it still was plunging headlong toward the indifferent pedestrian. Now thoroughly frightened. Robert pulled at the wheel frantically in a belated effort to get around the young woman and put his whole strength on the brakes. Somewhere to his left a woman screamed. He felt the car sliding on the dry pavement, knew at last it had come to a stop. But the young woman had disappeared under the radiator. "Good God! I’ve killed her!” He pushed the door open quickly, all but fell to the street in his haste to get out, and ran around to the front of the machine. CHAPTER THREE WHEN Mary Della regained consciousness, she was being lifted from the pavement by a pair of strong arms. Someone was talking In a very loud and disagreeable voice. “If you young fellows used your brains more and your horns less, you’d kill fewer innocent people,” the harsh voice was saying. “That girl was hurrying all she could, but she didn’t have a chance.” And then a low, melodious voice Just above her replied quietly: “There's no time to argue that now. Where's the nearest hospital? Quick!” Half a dozen different voices answered: “St. Mary's. Keep right on down Grand, cross South Main and ...” Man’ Della felt herself lowered tenderly to a soft seat, heard the young man crawl hurriedly under the wheel, and was listening the next moment to the deep-powerful purr of the motor. The car wa* moving ahead, cautiously. Good Lord, if she just, isn’t billed. ...” The y6ung man was talking to himself. “Why didn't one of those old fools come along to show me the hospital?” Mary Della, her head hanging over the back of the seat, opened one eye to make sure she vas not dreaming, and then laughted softly. “Thank heaven!” exclaimed the voung man. “She’s alive.” He stole a quick glance in her direction and saw that she was looking at his raccoon coat. f “Just lie quiet,” he ploeaded. "We’ll be there is a moment, I think. They said straight ahead and I ought to know a hospital when I see it.” “What hospital are you looking for?” “Please don’t talk. You're too weak. I’ll find it somehow.” Mary Della sat up straight and leaned over so that she might look into the young man's eves "But you wouldn't take me to a hospital if I didn’t want to go, would you?”

“Os course you’re going to a hospital. You’re hurt and only a doctor can say how seriously. Please don’t talk any more.” Mary Della felt very, very sorry so rthe young man, but she laughed in spte of herself, a long, tinkling laugh that ran up the scale and dow nagai. “Why, I’m not half as much hurt as you are,” she said. “You’re scared blue, and, after all, the car didn’t realty hit me. It just scared me.” “I don’t believe it,” he declared with feeling. “Is this the hospital on the left?” It was, but Mary Della evaded the ! question. “Straight ahead,” she said, i “and when you come to East Main j street turn right.” He followed instructions. At the ; corner of Mill and East Main | streets the red light held them for • a moment. ! "How much farther?” he asked. a a MARY DELLA debated whether she should leave the car there or let him take her home. The more she looked at this anxious young man, however, the less she was inclined to do either. Always she had wanted to ride in j one of these amazing affairs driven by a raccoon-coated young man, | and now, just as she was beginning to enjoy it. convention told her that she was behaving abominably. “Lord, but you’re pretty,” lie said ; suddenly, apropos of nothing, f Mary Della started. She hadn't j realized he had been looking at her. “You’re not so hard to look at yourself,” she parried. There’s the green light.” The big car swung around the comer into East Main street. “Straight ahead?” he asked. “Yes, straight ahead.” “How far?” “That,” said Mary Della, a little \ frightened at her own daring, “depends on how you feel about it.” j Having driven for some distance out East Main street without seej ing anything that resembled a hospital, Robert the Third began to digest what Mary Della had said to him. “That depends on how you fele about it.” Well, how did he feel about it? It was perfectly evident that they were not going to a hospital, and still it was inconceivable that this young and lovely and obviously innocent young woman could be proposing anything improper. Which was good judgment, of course, for Mary Della actually was proposing nothing beyond the possibility of an interesting adventure, and promptly would have jumped from the car if she had anticipated anything more exciting that a delightful ride in a gorgeous car with a young man who made a movie sheik look like a worn edition of Ben Turpin. ana • t say,” said Robert after a time, 1 “I don’t think I ever saw any one as pretty as you are. Where have you been all my life?” “Me?” asked Man’ Della, rubbing some Grand street dirt from her cheek with a tiny handkerchief. | "Oh. I've been hanging around one place and another; born in Brook- | lyn. raised on West Ride hill, and i now parked in a third-floor flat on j Bank Street.” j “All Greek to me.” said Robert. “Probably means you’ve lived in Waterbury all your life. Right?” “Couldn’t be Tighter. And where've you been hiding?” Robert laughed. “It’d be hard to give you the full story. All over. Right now I'm trying to hold down a job in New Haven.” “Well. I got you wrong there. I thought you’d turn out to be a j college boy. You look a lot like one erf the Yale fellows that had his picture in the papers a lot during i the football season.” “Am I to consider that a compli- | ment?” “Not from me,” Mary Della assured him. “I don’t like college boys. They’re too slippery. And i these Yale students good night! I've got. a girl friend who went out with one once and she said he must of been taking wrestling lessons and needed a workout. She sure was a wreck for a week ' after.” “And you think all Yale men are like that?”

—By Williams

“How do I know? Sometimes I think all men are like that.” They were passing Hamilton park. Across the tennis courts Mary Della could see the dance hall where she and Joe frequently clung to each other in moments of strained ecstasy. Why had Joe failed to meet her at the postoffice? Was he cheating? Should she tell him that she went to ride with a perfect stranger? Would he lose his temper if she did? a a a BUT there were no answers to the questions, just ww,, . She. .slid farther down in the seat and pulled the robe about her legs. "I gather,” Robert the Third' was saying, “that you don't like young men who park. . .” “You missed the point,” Mary Della said quickly. “The only boy friend I’ve got wants to park every time we go out together, and usually does. But he behaves himself. , . “Then . . .” “Wait ’til I finish. He behaves himself because he knows the first time he pulls any horseplay will be the last time he’ll go out with me. I’m nobody’s angel, but I like my affection in small, sugar-coated doses. WJien you begin to hand it out in hunks, it loses its kick.” Robert whistled softly. “Yowie! Child, you’re a philosopher of the first water. And petting. I suppose, is handing it out in hunks?” “I didn’t say that,” Mary Della declared. “Petting’s all right sometimes, if there’s anything like love behind it, even if it’s love that won’t last overnight. But what I mean by hunks is necking. Necking is for roughnecks and giraffes, not decent human beings.” “You ought to have been a fiction writer,” said Robert. “Did you, by the way, ever read any of Havelock Ellis?” “Sounds like a race horse to me,” said Mary Della. “Who is this Ellis fellow?” “Oh, he’s written quite a bit on sex. I thought you might have gotten some of your ideas from him.” a a a “T DIDN’T get any of my ideas out X of books,” Mary Della told him frankly. “I either got ’em from first-hand experience, or from somebody else who got theirs in the same old way. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you how many roads in and around Waterbury I've parked on. usually with a different fellow until Joe got to be a regular. Put me in any part of Waterbury and I’ll take you to half a dozen places where petting Is going on in parked cars.” “You mean secret rendezvous?” “I don’t know what you mean by that, but I’m talking about country roads and even little-used streets in the city. But th;■ most popular is probably the old piece of highway that, runs off the main road about half way to Cheshire.” (To Be Continued)

rHE SON OF TARZAN

Days of panic-ridden flight through the jungle had filled Jenssen and Malbihn with jangling nerves ahd their native boys with unreasoning terror. Each new noise behind them sounded to their ears like the coming of the Sheik and his bloodthirsty followers. So, when the naked white warrior stepped silently out of the jungle, the shock had been enough to loose in action the pent nerves of Malbihn and he had fired the first shot.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

A FINS MESS VNE EC Isl Mo\W- 1 VoO'Rt ABOUT 1 ( HO** SCOP IS SSMSE % wici i -i ct ue vw€ CArt'T STAY WEttE VWTW ( j B'.SVCT, MAtUY= I ot: OBSERYAUoM; FRSOiULS- J t 1 TWAT RID kKICKIN' VIWAT HE ILL FIGURE 1 YIUAT WOLD YOU SAY YOU if V - . ZT' §1 DOES AMD IF VIE LET HIM x > A yhaY OUT, J ??* SEEM IM tnY I

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

7 D Y/WC OR9i BRONZED HEAD* L 7\ —p UOHTERS FROM THE VfllDS OF BORNEO] 1 . I W ji l 1 FOUR DOIEN NAKED SAVAGES ELUDE THE. VIGILANT v --s^^ eve oe roue, and take to their war k ' > |r,

SALESMAN SAM

AND VIHCN CUD MR. fHU tHON’T SPY -Hi S SWOP AW, DON’T WORRY, CrCIZ-\ 7 „ —N rsTcH Tk' Tfc'LoFt, say was closed - eirr left pur it on th' door. sTep v. 4- kmow o-h 1

MOM’N POP

I THE NAME OF FINNEGAN \ f THEY CALL THE BABY BUSTER SO OOQ TO-DAY. POP. THEY \ I HE MUST BE A LITTLE SOY AMO \ ANO AND A, CABINET RADIO,\ “i HE'S HAD A TERRIBLE CASE OF j HD A CHILD, A RATHER I MUMPS. THE DOG'S NAME J ?00M SET BUT THE j p\ S SPIKE AMD HE'S / THE BACK OF THE ) A BEAUTY * J

But it developed that none of the caravan had seen clearly what they were fighting. One of the blacks even insisted the thing had been eleven feet tall, with a man’s body and an elephant’s head! After they had conquered their nervousness and came to investigate the enemy's position. in the gathering twilight, they found nothing. For by this time Akut and the son of Tarzan had retreated fa; from the unfriendly guns.

—By Martin

“The lesser beasts flee from me, the greater ones are ready to tear me in pieces,” the boy murmured, half to himself. ’’Black men would kill me with spears. White men, men of my own kind : shoot at me and have driven me away. Has the son of Tarzan no friends?” The old ape drew closer to the boy. ‘‘There are the great apes. ’ he said. ‘‘They only will be the friends of Akut's friend. You have seen men want nothing, of you. Let us go to the great apes—our people!”

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

f| -fHA-f VJAS QLlrfe 4 PRANK YoU —T^aJ -'/ IdA-f-f BULBS PUV6J> O*J OLD MAN HooPLE , l ~‘r W\ vortvl your. hypnotizing gag —~ vj J 1 bA,p ; ) f -THE -frtJo of YoU oUaH-f-ro wrap YoU&selNES'/ S \ LE TS 30 J |UD I>J Vj ASTfe-PAPER A*AD SELL OU-Y -rUe J / \ j Oti-Y AAi < RAGMAN EoTR - 1 {. L s f— WISH I HAP SEEAj-rHA-r HVRUo-T.s-rM BEFORE. HE LAMMEP I WoULD MaYC j\ I / HAP tflM SPELL YOU lAiTb J ( j ) ° S(O |-t-r ) - Tr; i(' VoU WERE UaMTVjMJa RODS( BALL ( So You'D RlIaJ AROISaJD look'i/UG for' J r { i

-A WS OIL LAMP-Sovf T^— — , r 7? V- ‘' ' . ; . BOTTLES VtflH ADDS I*4 i TO SAY JOST "V TW6M--TNOOR.TMOt€ I OPFfc&Ot-YbU | Boxes amd vjsll.i B pememser iwiAisS f : jl^too^ELL^ I \ | 'WALLS AY INAPOQTAWT DECISION

point*. ( ' ycy C a cvf\ >ON TH’ beach 1 . W . CT I ,svs camp— A / LOOKOUT FOB IF They CaTCmJI tMNVBMS' |^jj| J? 1/J 'ill JPf JEALOUSY, Alt HATRED iS '/ \ nVr \l y wash is once mope the uwal friend,! M ■ 4 CuHK) ' MC ’ To WIAV?N BODD'/ OF M H REo.u;s.l>AT.<xT , ■ m APPROACHING DANGER. 11

THE MOVERS BROKE ALL ) WHOA*. LET ME NO, BUT l KNOW SHE’S 3UVrN/ \ HER BEST DISHES. I J GET ALL THIS A GOOD. OLD-FASHIONED SORT / \ FELT 50 SORRY S STRAIGHT. THEY BECAUSE SHE WEARS SHORT / Y ' \ V FOR HER / MOVED IN TO-DAY AND SKIRTS AND DOES CPOSS-WOPDI i iY-C 1 . YOU'RE NNISE TO AU. RUZELES AND LIGHTS HER 1 ~ / C \ this .did you j cigarettes with !! J

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The two proceeded in silence for some time after Akut spoke. The boy was deep in thought, bitter thoughts in which hatred and revenge were uppermost. Finally he spoke; “Very well, Akut. We will find our friends, the great apes." Akut, who had long sensed that the boy wished to return to civilization, and was sorrowful because of that, now- was overjoyed. A grunt of approval, however, was his only response as ha busied himself searching for food.

APRIL 23,10*

—By AfMrri

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan