Indianapolis Times, Volume 41, Number 309, Indianapolis, Marion County, 7 May 1930 — Page 11

MAT 7, 1930.

OUT OUR WAY

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SYNOPSIS MARY DEI LA C HUBB T!i bes‘ looking docker in the clock shop, if not in Water'ourv. l ives with her parents in a Bank street bat. MIRIAM ROBBIN -Limited in S. A., hnt Marv D"!la's best girl friend; also a docker. JOE SPEAKS Marv Della's steadv. voting man about town. Rood looking and bard-boiled. ROBERT HENLEY CALKMAN 111 Yale senior and football star, one of the Catkmanx of Detroit. GEORGE M KRAY He wanted to go to Harvard hut the cards were against him: also a :tior at Yale. Happy-go-luckv is Oeoree MARJORIE MARABEE —Daughter of fashion, living on Cracker hill. Fiancee of Robert. TIMMY FITZMOAN Petting is his specialty. In love with Marv Della. OIGA SVENBON Also a docker and not too notv.il r with anv one. Marv Della end Rob-tt are parked on the old niece of highway off the Cheshire road when a woman is murdered bv the Red Mimic in the darkness ahead of their eat. Tliev leave the body Btid de-(-•dn to st>v nothing about it. to protect. Ciemrelves. But, after three days Marv p->' , unto; Hn anonymous note to the police telling about the murder and whore the horiv is. The American 'rrr:*s the storv tinder glaring headlines the next dav. hnt says the police could no* ■’nd 'he bodv. ~-rt Younoer has vritrn a musical comedy ra"ed The Clock Shop dockers" in which Marv Della is to be the leading ladv. CHAPTER FOURTEEN (Continued) ‘ Don't ask me. I told you I wouldn't kid you and I won't. As long as everything runs along smooth, why everything would be jake. It might last a long time and again it mightn't. We'd have to try it out.” "I see. It's like a game of craps. We might win, and we might lose.” "That's it. Mary Della. It’s a gambler's chance. But I'm game.” "If you're game,” said Mary Della, "that takes a load off my mind. All I have to worry about now is whether I’m game or not.” “That'a everything you got to bother about. Mary Della. I'm a man of my word and I wouldn't leave you at the altar. All you got to do is say the word, and we’re as good as hitched.” “It’s sure a big relief to me to hear you say it, Joe. . . . Got a job now. Joe?" “Well .... not exactly. But I’m figuring on one out at the rolling mills. It’s just a question of getting together on how much I’m worth. But I’m not losing any time, Mary Della.” “Oh. you're not?” “Not so's you'd notice it. I know you don't like gambling much, but there’s dough in it and‘that's all anybody can ask. I knocked off pretty near a hundred bucks last night.” ass a IN support of this statement he reached into a trousers pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. “How'd you like a couple of tens to get yourself a nice piece of jewel'ry?" "Joe." said Mary' Della, slightly nauseated, "it's almost 7 o'clock and I’ve got to go in the Cherry street door. I better be going. Put that money up before—before somebody steals it.” She opened the door and put one foot on the running board. “All right, kid." Joe agreed amiably; "but it's yours for the asking.” He shoved the bills into his pocket again, and pulled himself erect. -There's something else I wanted to ask vou about, Mary Della. . . Mary Della shut the door and waited. “Remember when we went to ride out the Cheshire road Saturday ni^ht?” Mary Della summoned every ounce of self control and nodded. “Well, there was a big. yellow roadster coming out of that piece of road —you been reading about this Red Mask racket?” “Yes.” said Mary Delia, wonderin" if her face was betraying her. “That fellow in that car was by hisseif. Marv Della, and 1 wonder if he was hauling ” Marv Della’s head was sninr.ing, but she held on to the car door and tried to look him steadily in the eye. "Don't talk about it, Joe. It makes me sick to think about it " Joe grew unexpectedly tender. "It needn't. Mary Della. You know how I figure it? I don't think any woman was murdered out there. I think some crank wrote that note to the coppers.” “That’s an idea.” Mary Della breathed easily once more "But just the same.” Joe continued. "it's up to me to tell the cops about that yellow roadster. If there was a murder, it'd be important. You'll back me up in it. won’t you?" Mary Della was walking away now. slowly. "Afraid I can't, Joe,” she called back to him. “I couldn't see a thing; the lights blinded meJi

She turned abruptly and walked up Cherry street. St tt tt said Miriam in that peculiar side-mouth monotone, “business is picking up. Guess what's happened now . . .?” “Can't,”’ May Della replied. "Good I or bad?” “Beautiful, honey, ’specially for you. Brett Younger's going to put on a amateur musical comedy and he wants you to bo the leadin’ lady.” “Why pick on me?” “Don’t be like that, darling. Who else but you? And he’s got me lined up for the chorus. Did you ever hear of so much big time in your | life? Bowing, policemen's ball, and j now a musical comedy. Before long ! I'll have to have a social secretary to! keep my dates from getting mixed : up. But I love it.” “When’s he pianning on hold- 1 ing it?” “Going to start rehearsals tonight, j precious. Oh. he’s got it all ready, i songs and all. At least, most of j the songs, he said. He’s going to have a song fixed up for you as j leadin’ lady with your name in it.” i “Gee,” said Mary Della, showing j signs of interest, sounds like het j stuff.” “Sure is, honey. And you know j what he's going to call it? . . .‘The ; Clock Shop Clockers.’ And he says | one of the big songs you’re going to | sing is called ‘The Clock Sfiop j Clock.’ It’s about a dance and ; you're going to do the dance, too.” \ “Seems like he's been doing a lot j of planning for me without saying anything about it.” “He just got the idea for it. darling. Says it come to him last week and he got busy right now and put it down on paper. He says to me last night. 'Mary Della can sing and she can dance, and what’s moi'e she's i the best-lookin' girl in town, and she’ll be a wow.’ And I says, ‘Brett, j you said a chinfull; she’s got everything in Waterbary knocked for a cocked hat.’ And he ” “Dhy up,” said Mary Della. “You're getting hysterical. Miriam.”; “And who wouldn't? But I'll tell you all about it at 12 o'clock. It*s sure a scream.” “I wouldn’t w'onder. Are you going to be in it, too, Olga?’ “Sure,” she said. “I’m going to! be one of the bridesmaids.” “Gosh!” Mary Della exclaimed. “Who gets married?” “You do. honey.” This from Miriam. “But Brett said be hadn't found a leadin’ man for you yet.” n u a WHILE they were eating lunch, Miriam told Mary Della all she knew about Brett Younger's musical comedy, “The Clock Shop Clockers.” which was enough. “The first act opens up in a room like where we work with a lot of girls bent over benches, vibrating hairsprings. I guess or something, and Brett comes in—Brett's going to be the villain that’s cuckoo about the leadin' lady, but don't get her, of course—and Brett comes in and sings a song—he's got it done, but I forget what it's called—and when he comes to the chorus the girls join in but don't look up from the benches, and ’’ “Listen, Miriam,” Mary Della interrupted. "You'd live a' lot longer if you’d catch your breath every now and k then. Use a few periods and let your tonsils rest." “I'm thrilled to crisp, Mary Delia. I can't help it. But anyhow, Brett goes out. and the girls all look up and begin to gossip and they give the audience the plot of the play. “It seems there's one girl that works in the shop that's terribly good looking. She hasn't come in yet because she’s late, but that's just to get introduced right. Everybody's crazy about this girl and all the men are nutty about her. but she won't have much to do with any oi the fellows but the villain, she's just kind of soft on him because there's not much pickin'." "Does she know Ijf’s a villain?” “Well, honey, he’s not, a villain really. He’s just a hard-lookin' egg that has to get the small end of the horn in the end. Somebody does, don't they? I forgot to tell you, darling, the villain's the foreman of the shop, and he lets this girl, the leadin' lady, do about like she pleases. The other girls don t like it. but they can't help but like the girl, the leadin' lady, remember. “After the girls have talked a lot and got this much over to the audience, they sing another song and right in the middle of it. In comes the leadin’ lady, hangs up her hat and coat—which ain’t anything to write heme about—and pops down at her bench. All the

—By Williams

ether girls look at each other and wink, but they just can’t help but like her, Mary Della, she's so swest. . . .” “She must be,” said Mary Della. “What a hit she'd be in our place.” “And then the girls get busy again, and who comes in but the villain with a handsome young fellow' that turns out to be the son of a rich manufacturer in the west who’s come in to inspect the shop and see how watches are made. And of course he flops for the leadin’ lady; thinks she's about the nicest thing that ever vibrated a hairspring, and he asks the villain —the foreman, you see—to knock him down to the leadin’ lady.” tt a a THEN everything gets quiet and the handsome young man asks the villain—the foreman, don’t forget—if any of the girls can dance ; and sing. Ar.d the foreman, proud like, says ‘Sure’ and calls on the leadin’ lady to do her stuff. “That’s where you get up, Mary Della, and do the 'Clock Shop Clock.’ It’s a dance, you know. And you sing the song that goes with it. Child, I’m all goose pimples thinkin’ about it. If ” “And what happens after that?” “Oh, I don’t remember it all. It’s a race between the villain and the handsome young man to sit pretty with you end there’s a fight and goodness knows what all. And In the end ” “I marry the handsome young man.” “Right.” “Sure sounds exciting,” agreed Mary Della, “but we got to be moving. It's a quarter to one.” Mary Della took a little purse from a pocket of her green jacket, paid her bill, and followed Miriam to the sidewalk. “Don't be hurt because I don’t get all worked up over the show, Miriam,” she said, “but life’s no musical comedy and I’m full of woe right now.” “ I know it. honey, but try to get it off your mind. This play’ll help you forget it.” “I don’t think anything can make me forget about it. Miriam. There’s always something else happening to get me going again when I do get sort of easy. Joe took me up to work this morning and told me he was going down to the police station and tell ’em about seeing Bob’s car coming out of that road.” “The dirty skunk!” “No. he’s not, Miriam. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. Says he doesn’t believe anybody was killed out there, but if there was, the police ought to know about that car. You can’t blame him, for that. If I had any nerve, I’d tell ’em what I saw—but I won't give Bob away.” Mary Della walked with her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets, her head bent, trying to picture the newspaper headlines after Joe told his story to the police. “They sure do work overtime to keep you in hot water, honey,” Miriam declared. “But if I was you —Mary Della, darling, what’s wrong now?”

(To Be Continued)

THE SON OF TAEZAN

Meriem opened ner eyes Her heart stood still! Creeping silently toward her was a huge bull ape that she never had seen before. Behind him was anothei like him. With the agility of a squirrel Miriem was on her feet. At the same instant the great bull lunged for her. Leaping from limb to limb the girl fled through the jungle while close behind her came the two great apes. Above them raced a bevy of screaming, chattering; monkeys.

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The little creatures hurled taunts and insults at the Mangani encouragement and advice to the girl. From tree to tree swung Meriem working aver upward toward the smaller branches which would not bear the weight of her pursuers. Faster and faster cams the apes after her. The clutching fingers of the foremost were upon her again and again, but she eluded them by sudden hursts of speed or reckless channaa tt si a* IttfttL

—By Martin

Now after a particularly daring leap, the swaying branch she grasped bent low beneath her weight and with a rending sound ripped from the tree trunk. Releasing her hold Meriem dropped through he foliage clutching for anew support. She had fallen many times before and had no terror of it; only the delay appalled her. Rightly too, for one of the huge apes dropped at her side and a great hairy paw went about her mitk

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burrcu,

Almost at once the other ape reached his companion's side. He made a lunge for Meriem, but her captor swung her to one side, bared his fighting fangs and growled ominously. Meriem struggled to tree herself, striking at the hairy breast, fastening her strong, white teeth in one shaggy forearm. The ape cuffed her viciously across the face, then he had to turn his attention to his fellow who quite evidently desired the Bim tot fci^ewo.

PAGE 11

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