Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 301, Indianapolis, Marion County, 28 April 1930 — Page 9

APRIL 28, 1930-

OUT OUR WAY

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MiKMIA v/ ByjCiue ann Moore THE. P |HoIpENDENT 3 SyNDICATE

SYNOPSIS MARY DELLA CHUBB lives with her parents In a Bank street flat. She works at the cloc); shop. MIRIAM BOBBIN, her close 'riend. also works In the clock factory. Marv Della !s a riot for good looks and has a monopoly on IT. Miriam is a Rood sport, hut fails to attract the opposite sex. Mary Della Roes to meet JOE SPEAKS, her steady, but Joe fails to nppear at their meetinß place in front of the postoffice. Mary Della starts across the street and is almost run down by a lon* yellow roadster. She faints and falls in front ol the car. but is not hit. A vouur man In coon.skin coat leap- out. Suts hes in the roadster, and starts to t. Mary’s hospital, but doesn't know where it is. , Marv Della opens an eye laughs, and offers to direct him But she directs him past the hospital and out East Main street. It develops that this voung man is ROBERT HENLEY CALKMAN 111. Detroit. Yale senior, who just has proposed to and been accepted by MARJORIE MARABEE, who lives on Cracker realizes that Mary Della is spoofing about the hospital and When they come to the arc of old highway Just oft the Cheshire road, about half way to Cheshire, Robert turns into it and parks. Mary Della threatens to walk back, but relents, ar.d later when Robert asks if he may kiss her she impulsively turns out the car lights and throws her arms about his neck. The next instant they have drawn back, startled by a woman's scream in he darkness ahead. Robert plunges into the darkness to investigate. A few minutes later Mary Della turns the car lights on again, revealing Robert and a woman, apparently dead, lying an the ground. Standing over them is a man in a red mask. Mary Della slips into the woods until the RED MASK departs, then returns to Robert, who is only stunned. The woman is dead, murdered. CHAPTER SlX—(Continued') “Don't try to be funny,” Mary Della told him. “I don't want to start a mutual admiration session, but the bravest thing I ever saw was you getting out of the car to go to that woman ... in the dark.” “Gosh, but you don't know how my heart was beating, Mary Della. I was a badly frightened man, if you only knew it. . . . But there's something more important to talk about. When, for example, am I to see you again?” "That depends ” “On how I feel about it?” he laughed. "The last time you said that, I was taking you to a hospital. Have you thought how near you came to taking me to a hospital before the ride was over? “Well, I'll tell you how I fee! about It, Mary Della. I feel that life wouldn’t be worth living if I could never see you again. This night will be a decidedly bad taste in your mouth after it’s all over, but I hope you won't forget that with all its tragedy, there was something real and fine in it.” a a tt MARY DELLA pressed a finger to the dimple in her chin and closed her e r .. "I guess I ought not to say inis, but I’ve got a hunch I'll never see you after you leave me tonight. Maybe I ought to want it that way.” “You don’t?” “No. I’d be just foolish enough to get all I could out of it while it lasted, and take my medicine when the crash came. . . . The next door on the right is where I turn in.” The exceptionally long and yellow roadster came to a stop and Mary Della got out. Then can you believe it, after the experience they had just come through? .... they shook handa “If this is god-by,” he repeated, said with a pathetic smile, “thanks for the buggy ride.” “If this is good-bye,” he repated. "I want you to know that as long as I live, I’ll never forget the prettiest, the sweetest, the bravest little girl I ever met. ...” “Boloney!” said Mary Della, and, without once turning her head, crossed the sidewalk and disappeared through the doorway. But, one foot on the first step, she stood and waited until the hum of his engine was lost in the general noise of the street. CHAPTER SEVEN SATURDAY night. Bath night. Dance night. Most of all, dance night. To the best of her knowledge, Mary Della never had missed a Saturday night dance at Hamilton park. But until this present Saturday, she had never lacked for an escort. She began to understand the disadvantages of that serious stage of companionship known in her set as keeping steady company. Joe. apparently frightened off by his own neglect, had not aopeared to claim his usual privilege of taking her to the park, and the string of

hopefuls who once had competed for the pleasure had long since withdrawn to more receptive fields. But more than ever before, Mary Della felt the need of the crowd and the music and the gayety of the park dance and, there was, she reflected, more ways than one to skin a cat. “Mary Della,” said Mrs. Chubb when the supper dishes had been cleaved away and the vase of artificial American beauties set in the center of the table, “me and your Pop are going to the pictures.” Mr. Chubb. fcir from comfortable in a stiff collar and his best suit, was stealing a few minutes with the evening sports pages, while Mrs. Chubb made her customary elaborate preparations for the weekly visit to the bright lights of East Main street. “And ” Mrs. Chubb resumed, “you'd better go right to bed, like you promised me this morning you would. There's rings around your eyes and you said ydUrself you didn’t sleep good last night. We ll be back about 11:30 if your pop don’t run into any of the men from the shop and stand on the street talking half the night.” When they had gone, Mary Della caught her aress, cross-arm fashion, and pulled it over her head. Then she went to her room. Three minutes later she came out in a smart little frock of rose chiffon with a double-tiered skirt that shared the same aversion to knees that all Mary Della’s frocks enjoyed. She looked at the clock. It was 7:30. Four hours. If Miriam only stayed in the city Saturday night . . but there was no time to speculate upon ifs. At the center she waited impatiently for a trolley. A cozy coupe stopped by the curb to wait for a green light and Mary Della recognized Bill Derwin. She knew he was on his way to the park to take charge at the dance and she was half tempted to ask him if she might go along, but she merely smiled when Bill bowed. Nice boy, Bill, but he might think she was fresh. a a a AT last the East Main stree. trolley arrived and there followed a mad rush for seats. It looked like a strap for Mary Della until she spied Eddie Keenan holding down three side seats by the simple expedient of squeezing himself into them. “Gosh, Eddie,” Mary Della called, wiggling down the aisle, “can t you give a poor girl a chance to rest her feet?” Eddie got up with surprisine agility and made a courtly bow “Help yourself and bring a friend,” he said, laughing: “Look sort of lonely tonight, Mary Della. Where's that bird you’ve been running around with Working?” “I don’t know,” Mary Della replied. “What’s your opinion?” “Excuse me. there's Doc O’Hara crowding the door. I want to find out about that two bucks he owes me.” He shoved off in the packed car and Mary Della was left alone once more. Leaving the trolley at the park, she wondered whether she should go in alone or wait outside until she saw some girl she knew and tag along with her. She she barely asked the question when someone ran up out of the group leaving the car and caught her arm. It was Timmy Fitzmoan. “Whoopie!” cried Timmy, who had once lost his heart to Mary Della and got it back again with no efTort on his part. “This is like old times, Mary Della. All by your lonesome?” “Not quite, Timmy. You're company of a sort. Are you taking me to this dance?” “And how! But if I don’t know how to act. you'll know it’s because I haven’t been out with a girl since you gave me the air.” “Hokum,” said Mary Della. “I see Sharkey’s throwing out the usual delegation of newspaper boys.” Mary Della saw many familiar faces inside and there was no lack of dancing partners. Which was not surprising when you consider that she was about the prettiest, snappiest little article on the floor. Her one great problem was persuading Timmy that he ought to dance with some of the other girls. “But what’s the use?” Timmy

—By Williams

asked at the end of a dance. “They’re all getting along o. k. without me, and you’re the only one I’m interested in. What say we sit the next one out?” “Out where? The next two are taken. How about the third? a a a IYyf'ARY DELLA suffered no illusions about what it meant to “sit it out” with Timmy. His idea of a good dance was a single fox trot and the next ten numbers in a parked automobile, usually the first parked automobile he came to, owner unimportant, unless occupied. But she also knew that she could tie Timmy around her little finger. Comfortably seated in the back seat of a big sedan that Timmy swore belonged to Harold Lynch, Mary Della began to him, “There’s a Rainbow' ’Round My Shoulder.” “Nice song, that,” said Timmy, putting his arm on the back of the seat. “Heard ‘Sonny Boy’ yet?” “Heard it? I thought the government had deported it as a public nuisance.” She resumed her tune. “Swell night,” Timmy announced, letting his arm slide down until it rested on Mary Della’s shoulders. “Never saw a sweller,” Mary Della agreed. “By the w r ay Timmy, you aren't working yourself up to ask me for a kiss, are you?” “Well ” admitted Timmy, “I’d sure love to kiss you, Mary Della. I’m silly about you, Mary Della, you know that ” “That’s a lot of responsibility to put on me, Timmy. Sure you weren’t that way before you ever heard of me? . . . But I’ll tell you, Timmy. I won’t crab about your arm sneaking around me if you get any kick out of it, but you mustn’t expect any more fun out of me. That’s the limit.” Timy retrieved his arm and sat sullenly staring at the couples moving in and out of the hall. The night was a total loss as far as he was concerned. But suddenly he sat up. So that’s the story,” he said aloud. “Did you say something?” Mary Della inquired. “I see your game now, Mary Della,” he explained. “I thought it was funny you’d come out here by yourself, but I didn't know you met your boy friends in the park.” “Will you quit talking like a crystal-gazer and tell me what’s eating on you?” “Joe Speaks just went in the hall. Don’t tell me you didn’t know* he was coming out tonight.” “Will you ever grow up, Timmy? Do you think I’d bother to lie to you? Boy, you get more cuckoo every’ day. Come on, I’m going in.” “I know’ it,” Timmy cried, unconvinced, and followed in Mary Della’s wake.

(To Be Continued.)

THE SON OF TARZAN

“I am Korak!” shouted the boy. “I came to live among you as a friend. You want to drive me away. Very well. I shall go; but before I go I shall show you that the son of Tarzan is your master as was his father before him. - ’ The king ape stood motionless with surprise. Akut was equally surprised. Now he shouted excited’-- for Korak to come back: for once the king ape's huge jaws had closed on the boy s neck it would be his end.

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

(Vw landlady vion’t stand ouess VtA Too laTeV i, (Vihats the idea of ell, when \ took nti' room T 1 FOR. ANN NOISE- SHE'S HEAR. HER. COMIM’ NOW; CRAWLIN' OP*TH’ STAtRSJ. VA SAIO 'TCU'O ALLOW NO CATS, TTUST A LITtLE! /

MOM’N POP

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To leap to the boy’s rescue would mean death for Akut. too; but the brave old ape never hesitated. Bristling and growling he leaped to the grass just as the king ape charged. Korak. too. leaped forward to meet the attack; but leaped crouching, beneath the outstretched arms. Quickly, with all the weight of his body and the strength of his trained muscles, he drove a clinched first into the bull’.3 stomach. The king ape groaned with pain.

—By Martin

When the king collapsed, howls of ra'™ and dismay broke from the other apes, as with murder in their savage h_a<,i<s tn y vusheu upon Korak and Akut. Old Akut was too wise to risk any such unequal encounter and he knew it would be futile to call off the boy. To delay was fatal. There was but a single hope and Akut seized it. Grasping the lad abound the waist, he lifted him bodily and ran swtftly-toward a low hanging branch,

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Close on their heels swarmed the hideous mob; but old as Akut was and burdened by the struggling Koak. he made the tree, grasped a limb, and with the agility of a little monkey swung to temporary safety. Then on through the jungla night until the roaring apes were left far behind. J The boy was furious. “Why did you drag mo away?” he cried. “You are alive,” said Akut. "Had I not brought you we would both havo J perished Even the lions fear the maddened apest” j

PAGE 9

—By Ahern

—By Blosses

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan