Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 307, Indianapolis, Marion County, 5 May 1930 — Page 9

MAY 5, 1930

PUT OUR WAY

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MAiy figufUk ~ vy By julie ann Moore -

SYNOPSIS MARY DELLA CHUBB The best looking docker In the clock shop, if not In Waterbury. Lives with her parents In a Bank street flat. MIRIAM ROBBIN -Limited in S. A., but Mary Della's best girl friend; also a. docker. JOE SPEAKS—Mary Della’s steady, young man about town, good looking and hard-boiled. ROBERT HENLEY CALKMAN 111 Yale senior and football star, one of the Calkmans of Detroit. GEORGE McKRAY—He wanted to go to Harvard but the cards were against him; also a senior at Yale. Happy-go-luckv is George. MARJORIE MARABEE—Daughter of fashion, living on Cracker hill. Fiancee 6/ Robert. TIMMY FITZMOAN—Petting is his Specialty. In love with Mary Della. OLGA BVENSON—AIso a docker and hot too popular with any one. Mary Della and Robert are parked en an old highway off the Cheshire road when a woman is murdered by the Red Mask, notorious slugger, in the dark road Just ahead of their car. Mary Della and Robert are afraid they will be implicated in the murder and say nothing about it. But both worry about the woman's body lying on the road three days undiscovered. Mary Della writes an anonymous note to the police. Robert sends George in Robert's car to see if the body still is there. CHAPTER TWELVE (Continued) •’lt’s your own suggestion,” said Robert, "but it certainly would have answered this damnable question.” .His face was showing the effects of 'worry. nun **T>OY, you're hard to please,” George laughed. “First you’re tvorried because the woman’s corpse is lying out in the woods. I tell you it isn’t there and you continue to fret. What do you want, a photograph of the morgue slab?” Robert caught him by both arms end shock him amiably. “George,” he declared with conviction, “you’re a prince, and I am relieved immensely. You don't know how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. . . . But why didn’t you come in and tell me about It last, night?” ‘Well,” George confessed, ‘‘l thought you’d be alseep for one thing. And then I wanted to see the Sunday papers this morning—” "Is there anything—” “Not a line. I’ve bought them all and searched them carefully.” Robert stuffed his shirt into his trousers and tightened his belt. "Would it be in the New Haven papers, if they had found It?” he asked after a silence. “It ought to be. Bob. The press wires would carry a story like that all over the country. “But that's not all I have to report.” “I’m a wreck already,” Robert declared; “a few murders more or leSs can’t affect me. Let’s have the rest of the dirt.” “You'll want to shoot me for this,” George prefaced, “but I didn’t deliver the ring, and I was seen coming out of your unholy road.” “That’s pleasant news. And who saw you?” "How do I know? A couple in a touirng car, but I didn’t stop for tea. The darn fool slowed down just as I was turning into the highway. Looked to me as if he might have been giving me the once over.” Robert turned that over In his mind. “No, I hardly think so. You probably were touchy about that time. I understand it's a regular parking ground, so there probably isn’t anything to worry about there.” a a a * 4 BOUT the ring," George ex--l\. plained, “you see it was very nearly 11 o’clock by the time I drove into Waterbury and I disliked the idea of frightening Marjorie and her folks to death at that hour of the night; Besides, I gathered that the ring was chiefly to explain my presence in Waterbury in the event that I was put through the third degree.” George removed the little parcel from a vest pocket and dropped it into a dresser drawer. “Anyway,” he added, “it seems to me that an engagement ring ought to be delivered in person.” "I dare say you’re right there.” Robert agreed. “And now. may I have the note you also decided not to present to the Bank street address ?” George raised a protesting finger. ‘•Fie, fie! my handsome gentleman. Sarcasm ill becomes you. I did leave the note, climbed three stairs to do it, too. And so frightened I was in a chill. It was after 12 o'clock and I supposed that every one in the house was asleep; but I l knew If Mary Della ever walked out lon me and gazed upon my 'lassie I physiognomy, your goose wruld be i cooked. It's a strange power I have lover women, Bob.” | “Very strange,” said Robert “I how you ever persuaded one 5 rzrmMmm

to go out with you. . . . And you didn’t see Mary Della. . . .” “I didn’t see any one except a division of policemen and any number of men I imagined to be plainclothes detectives. 80/, but I was nervous. Wouldn’t have been in the least surprised if they’d locked me in the jug without a question.” Robert gave him a hearty slap on the back. “George, you’re a wonder. The first time you get mixed up in a murder, you’ll know where to find an accomplice. I am grateful, old man.” “Forget it,” said George. “The next question is, when do you take me to see Marjorie? She must be pretty lonesome for me by now.” Robert pulled on his overcoat—not the raccoon—laughing. “She’s looking for me for a bridge party Tuesday night,” he said. “I’ll telephone her this afternoon to drag in three more sharks to fill your table. Come on, let’s eat.” a a a “/'YHILD” Miriam was saying, “I’m all worked up over the policeman’s ball. From all I hear it’s going to be a wow. I run into Barney Burns this noon and he said “Miriam, old kid, don’t you miss it. You’ve heard of breakdowns; well, this is going to be a knockout from the word go!” And I said, “Barney, you old kidder, can I waft through that grand march on the arm of Officer Burns? And he said.. “Hey!” said Mary Della, “Did somebody drop a handful of nickels in you, or are you trying to show up these new automatic Orthophonics? Give your lungs a chance, Miriam.” Miriam laughed. “Guess I was wound up, darling. But yoil can’t blame me, I don’t get around much and this is my chance to swing a demon dog.” “Dog, Miriam? Be proper; say foot.” And who’d understand me, I ask you? Do you think just plain feet would last the cops when they’re walking on ’em the year round? Dogs is correct, precious. If you want anybody to understand anything you’re saying at the ball, don’t say feet. They’ll think you’re a sissy if you do.” “Sure did miss you yesterday, Miriam.” “I didn’t have time to miss anybody. I was cleaning house all day after I got back from church. Anything big happening to you yesterday. Mary Della?” “The world's turned upside down, Miriam. It goes from bad to worse and worse to terrible. I ” She cut an eye toward Olga Svenson and left the sentence unfinished. a a a WELL, as I was saying,” Miriam observed in a loud voice, "little pitchers have big ears, and big ears are worse than broadcasting stations. If I was you. Mary Della, I wouldn’t discuss my uncle’s divorce in the shop.” Mary Della smiled, inwardly. “The whistle must be out of order,” she said. “I feel like I hadn t eaten since Rocco quit serving the fair sex. fair like Mr. Elwell used to give us in English, meaning not so good.” “There she goes, darling, you’re as good as a clock.” “Miriam . . They hardly had left the shop. “What, honey?” “See that kid with the papers?” “Mary Della! It’s not . . .” “Call him and get one,” said Mary Delly weakly. a a a IF Mary Della had expected her note to the superintendent of police to produce fireworks, she was not to be disappointed. They were pyrotechnics of anew and eager journalism. “Good Lord! exclaimed Miriam. “Will you read the line across the top of the page: “Red Mask Charged With Murder—Anonymous Girl Writes Police She Saw Woman Killed ” “I didn't say that,” Mary Della declared indignantly. Miriam's mouth hung open, her eyes were threatening to leave their sockets. “Did—did you ” “Hush,” Mary Della warned. “Somebody might hear us. I had to write it. Miriam ” “But look at this, child: “Police Make .Thorough Search, Bv*t Fail to Find Body. . . . Bloodstains Discovered on Dead Leaves and Orass Under Snow „ . Author!-

—By Williams

ties Begin Hunt for Writer of Letters.” Mary Della said nothing. They didn’t find “it.” Someone had been there and . . . There flashed through her mind the picture of an exceptionally long and exceptionally yellow roadster turning into the highway, of Joe ’eaning out and swearing as it swept by . . . “Miriam,” she murmured. “I think I’m going to faint.” CHAPTER THIRTEEN “TTERE, honey,” Miriam coaxed, n “hold my arm. We’ll find a place to sit down.” “I—l’m all right now, Miriam.” The color slowly was returning to her cheeks. “It—just took my breath for the minute. Let’s see the paper again.” “Nothing doing, kiddo.” Miriam gave the paper a twist and threw it into the street. “You’ve seen plenty for this week. You didn’t sign any name to the note, Mary Della?” “Yes, but it wouldn’t tell ’em anything. But it’s not the note that worries me, Miriam. I don’t think they could trace that in a thousand years.” “Then what’s eating on you, darling?” “Miriam ” she spoke slowly, emphasizing every word “there was a murdered woman on that road Friday night. Don't ask me if I’m sure. I know she was there ... And the police didn’t find her.” ‘“Maybe they’re nearsighted, child. But they did find something, you know. Enough to show that there was a fracas out there.” “Then what became of the corpse?” “Gee, don’t ask me,” Miriam protested. “If I knew, I’d be down there telling the police all about it. They’d probably put my picture in the paper and make me famous. I might even get a job on the stage.” “Don’t be an infant all your life, Miriam. This is—terrible!” “I know it is, precious. But it won’t help to worry about it- Maybe the Red Mask went back and moved it.” “If I thought that,” Mary Della said quickly, “I’d be . . . Miriam .. “What honey . . .?” “There’s something I haven’t told you yet . . “Holding out on me, eh?” “Will you be serious, Miriam?” “I’m sorry. Cross my heart . . They passed a newsboy on the corner, crying his exceptionally juicy wares. ana “T WENT to the dance at the park X Saturday r. ght,” Mary Della said, trying not to hear the boy’s weard cry. “I went by myself, and of course Joe turned up and we buried the ax. Then he took me to ride . . . out the Cheshire road . . .” “Are you plumb nutty, Mary Della?” “I couldn’t £0 anything about it, Miriam. I was more afraid of giving myself away than I was of going out by that place again. I told him I wouldn’t park, though, and he said he’d just take me for a ride and home again. (To Be Continued)

THE SON OF TARZAN

During these months, Meriem slowly learned the rudiments of apes’ language, perfected herself in jungle craft and often now helped Korak and Akut while they hunted. The great anthropoid had come to accept the girl on a footing of equality, though for the most part he avoided her. The youth was always kind to her. He had constructed a tight little shelter in the swaying branched Mere she slept. The Killer and the

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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SALESMAN SAM

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High in her leafy bower, Meriem no longer feared the leopard, though there was always Hista the snake to strike terror to one's soul and the great babpons living nearby who barked at any of the trio when they passed near them. After the construction of the shelter the activities of the three became localized. They ranged widely, always returning to their own tree at nightfall. A river flowed nearby. Fish and

—By Martin

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Existence settled into the routine of sleep and food They looked no farther ahead than today. Korak had given up hope of returning to civilization. He had wandered so far inland that now he knew he was completely lost in the mazes of the jungle. Since the coming of Meriem he had found the thing he most had missed—human companionship. They were friends, companions, happy and innocent children leading an idyllic

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The little girl idolized Korak as she might an older brother. Love was a thing unknown to either, but as the youth neared manhood it was inevitable that it should come to him, as it did to every other savage male. Meriem could now swing through the trees with the agility of the Killer himself, surefooted, lithe and fearless. Korik was very proud of her and even old Akut would grunt his approval of this little “human *•

PAGE 9

—By Ahem

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan