Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 10, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 May 1930 — Page 12

PAGE 12

OUT OUR WAY

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By ji j n Moore •^iE p iNDi^^NDeNT 3 sYNDicATE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX Robert henley calkman 111 sat with Robert Henley Calkman II on the mezzanine of the Taft hotel and discussed the weather and such matters. Robert’s father was tall and broad, like his son, but his hair was gray, as was his carefully barbered mustache, except for scattered lines of black. His expression was serious, but not severe, and his voice was decidedly agreeable to the ears, “Your mother thinks she would like to see the opening of ‘Yeung Alexander’ at the theater up the street tonight,” he told Robert. “She suggested that you might enjoy it, too, but I reminded her that you doubtless had your own program and we might better excuse you.” “You’re a prince, Dad,” Robert declared. “I’ll go if mother wants me along, but I’d promised to go out tonight before you came, and . . “Back to see Marjorie, I suppose?’' Mr. Calkman shook a significant finger at his son. “It must be a case of real love, all right.” Robert shifted his position uneasily. At length he moved his chair nearer his father's and said in a low voice: “I want to talk to you about something. Dad. You’re going to think I’m a cad after I tell you something that’s on my mind. But you’re the only one who can advise me.” “Os course, I am, boy. And there’s nothing you’d do that would make your dad think you were’nt four-square on everything. What is it?” Robert hesitated. He was half atraid of being misunderstood, half afraid of hurting his father. But—- “ What are your ideas about marriage, dad? Do you think love is essential to happiness?” “Damn!" said Mr. Calkman with feeling. “Is that a rational question? Os course love is essential to happiness! Did you seriously question it, or does that lead up to something with a little more sense in it?” “I can’t be specific,” Robert apologized. “I've got to talk in generalities just now. Let’s agree that love is necessary, that a deep, overpowering love is desirable. If >a young fellow is engaged to a girl end suddenly discovers that he’s not really in love with her, is he justified in trying to find a way out, or should he go ahead and see it through?” “Hmm . . . And you can’t be specific. That’s too bad. Too bad. It's so much easier to deal with a concrete problem than beat around an abstraction. Very fortunate . . . But I answer this on your own terms. The man who marries a women he doesn’t love is an imbecile. “Nothing substitutes for love, sn. Respect, admiration, reverence are not even distant relations of love. Yes, I’d say that he should find a way out. mind you, with every advantage in the young woman's favor. But a way out, surely.” But Robert’s face showed that he was not at the end of his difficulties. “Well, that's that,” he smiled. “But to get back to the first question, Dad. Can you tell me what one should consider after love when he is thinking of getting married?” a a a “TP I follow you.” said Mr. Calk--1 man. “you’re in a more distressing predicament than I like to think. But you're honest and I’ll gamble on honesty, even when I'm blindfolded as I am now . . . We agree that love comes first. With love one might overcome any number of deficiencies. But even with love, there are certain other factors that ought to be considered. Compatibility of tastes and temperament, intellectual congeniality, resources. “I could name others. The big thing, son. is to get a wife who loves you as you love her, who will make a real home for you, bear children, and through it all preserve her own interests and individuality. I cite your mother as the ideal.” “You’re right there,” Robert declared. . . . “By the way. Dad, does mother share this view with you . . . of marriage. I mean?" “What? Oh, I think so. We've never discussed it, but your mother refused to marry me the first time I proposed because I was rather better most, while her parents were merely comfortably rich. Bu* love was there and the difference of a few millions was forgotten." “Bwt suppose mother’s parents had had no money at all. In fairly close circumstances, you know." “I probably never should have met

her.” his father replied agreeably. , ‘But just suppose you had met her and she had been poor and still there was love—would you have married her anyway?” Mr. Calkman looked at his sou in surprise. “Listen, you young ignoramus,” he said severely, “I’d have married your mother if she hadn’t had a nickel, if the whole world had been opposed to the match. I tell you, the one big question is love, love, love. Now either leave off the mystery or change the subject.” Robert suddenly threw his head back and laughed as if he had just heard an extremely amusing story. He slapped the arm of his cba;r smartly and jumped up to do an abbreviated jig and drop into his chair again. Mr. Calkman followed his actions curiously, one eyebrow drawn down slightly as though he were doing a little more thinking on that side of iis head. “I say, dad,” Robert declared with warmth, “life really is worthwhile, isn’t it?" But that lowering eyebrow had covered the eye completely, and Mr. Calkman was apparently lost in speculation. Thinking, possibly about his carburetors. a a a MR. AND MRS. CALKMAN went to Shuberts alone, Mrs. Calkman kissing Robert on the forehead as they parted in the Taft lobby and warning him against overmuch dissipation. “And tell Marjorie and her mother that We should like to call tomorrow afternoon, if possible, inasmuch as we are leaving the day after tomorrow,” she added, as Robert turned to leave them. Robert wheeled and looked at his mother. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, dear,” Mr. Calkman said to his wife apologetically. “‘I received a wire from Derrigan only a few minutes ago and I am afraid we shall have to leave before lunch tomorrow. Most disappointing, but business is business.” "Then perhaps we ought to chance a call this evening” said Mrs Calkman, much disturbed by this interruption in her plans. “Oh, they’ll understand,’ Robert explained hastily. “I’ll tell them father has been called home, but that you will plan to see them when you come back to witness my exit from classes in June.” “Exactly,” Mr. Calkman agreed. “That will be excellent, son. Drop by to say good night when you come in. Bob.” “Yes, dad,” said Robert, and his eyes said something more to his father that only his father could understand. “You're a brick, dad,” he whispered. He turned quickly and ran out to the limousine. a a a ONE week to the day after the questionable Mrs. Moodle had reported to the police that “one of her girls.” Salila-Rick. was missing from her establishment, and that she had found in the girl's trunk a red mask, the police found their man. “Snake” Womain, who had a criminal record as long as a man's arm and continuously was wanted on suspicion, was found in a downtown gambling joint and promptly escorted to a cell at the police station. Pending developments he was held on a charge of assault and battery on an elderly man in Waterville who came down in an hour’s time and positively identified “Snake” as his assailant. This insured Womain’s detention until the Cheshire road murder could be laid squarely on his shoulders. “Snake,” however, denied all : knowledge of the crime and dei clar°d he could prove an alibi, which was not exactly an original claim to the police. They gave “Snake” a summary of the evidence against him and he suddenly offered the police a written confession of the assault in Waterville if they would permit him to go to trif’ on that charge before entering c irge of murder against him. The police accepted the written ! confession, but declined to promise ; anything beyond a square deal. A member of the detective bureau went over the case with "Snake” and urged him to make a clean breast of the murder. “The Moddle woman,” he explained carefully, “saw you with the Rick girl on several different occasions. The Rick girl told her you were rushing her pretty heavy. Two k

—By Williams

other girls in her house are ready to back that statement up, and one of them says Salila Rick told her you had threatened to break her head if she didn’t stop running around with some other fellow.” “W’at the ’ell’s that got to do wid murder?” demanded Snake suddenly. ‘W’en a bird says he’s goin’ to break a skirt’s head, he means he’s goin’ to crack ’er on the jaw wid ’is fists, don’t it?” The detective ignored the question. “Who was this other fellow you didn’t like?” he asked quietly. “W’at other fellow? Did I say I told ’er I’d break ’er head? Did I say anything about another bird? You’re doin’ the talkin’, Cap, not me.” “All right, ’’the detective replied. “Now about the red mask. This Red Mask has been preying on unarmed and defenseless parkers. That’s the sort of thing you’d be doing, Snake. It’s your kind of work. We never suspected you, but now that we’ve got this far, we can see how you might have been the guilty bum every time. And to sew things up, Mrs. Moddle finds a red mask in the Rick girl’s trunk. Can you explain that?” “Me? Me explain that cap? Why me, I’d like to know? I ain't never had a red mask in my life, and if I had, w’at’d I be doin’ givin’ it to a skirt like Salila Rick? What would I, now?” “Then you won’t come clean, eh, ‘Snake’? Well, that’s too bad, because there’s a rope waiting for somebody up in Hartford and the court’s not likely to be too lenient with a fellow who makes all the trouble possible instead of trying to deserve a little mercy. It might help a little, ‘Snake,’ if you’d tell us who this other fellow was that was hanging around the Rick girl.” WOMAIN* hesitated. “That’s sense, Cap,” he said. “Only I can’t help you much. I seen ’im, but I didn’t know ’is name. But honest to God, Cap, you got the wrong bird now. I done plenty of dirt in my time, but I ain’t never had the nerve to croak nobody. And Salila Rick—well, I was pretty soft on Salila, Cap. I don’t mind tellin’ you private, I was pretty soft on ’er and I wouldn’t of hurt a hair on ’er head.” “Could you Identify this other fellow if we brought him in, Snake?” asked the detective. “Well, I wouldn’t say I could, Cap. Just got a eye full of ’im once and not much of a one at that. No, I wouldn’t pin it on some other bird on what I saw of ’im. I ain’t that dirty, Cap.” “Oh, no, of course not,” the detective laughed. “You’re a nice, clean, honest mama’s boy and you wouldn’t hurt anybody’s feelings. Not you. But what about the alibis. Where were you the night the Red Mask slugged a couple on the Middlebury road?” “On the way to New York, Cap. Honest. I read about it in the New York papers next day.” “Can you prove that statement?” “Well. I didn’t know nobody on the train and I put up at a dirty boardin’ house that night. Don’t remember just where it was now.” (To Be Continued)

THE SON OF TARZAN

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After selling Meriem, the native chief demanded of the girl’s new masters that they leave his village next morning early. He told them of her savage mate who would sur ily attempt her rescue. The Swedes needed r o urging to hasten them on toward the sheik’.; country. Already they were gloating over the gold they would receive froin him in exchange for the lovely prize luck had thrown across their path. Two days they marched.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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During this hard trek across the African plains, Malbihn feasted Im eyes upon the face and figure of the beautif ul captive. His desire to possess her for himself became even greater than his greed for the ransom money. The fourth evening they pitched camp. Meriem began to give up hope. Why did not Korak come to her? She had been left alone until near midnight, when Malbihn entered her tent. The look of a beast was on his face. "'t •' • ■ i- •''' Wt:

—By Martin

ANHeN \ ©OUGHT THV.S (IN OTHER WORDS,YA WANif e>US TU' FELLA DIDN’T ) r \ Tf\ KNOW T’ HORSe Ten- CAE HOW FAST / S/ V — l POWER OF TER CAR. SHE. COULD CrO 1 ** * ■ Ljb& ffoijr IW ' || C 1930 BY_NEA SEWVICC. WC. j

Like a trapped creature Meriem shrank from the approaching man. She saw his hands extended claw-like, to seize her; heard his breath come quickly. Then she screamed —loud and shrill, once, twice, a third time before Malbihn could leap across the tent and throttle her cries with his brute strength. Then she fought him. Beneath her rounded curves and fine, soft skin lay the muscles of a young lioness. The man found her desperate.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

But Malbihn was of giant strength and stature and he was brutal Slowly he subdued the girl’s fighting fury. Meriem stiff fought back but she was growing weaker from the choking fingers at her throat. Her cries awakened Jenssen. Long suspicious of his partner, he guessed rightly what might be happening. With a muttered curse he dashed from his tent. Out in the jungle, another heard faintly the screams and broke into a rapid run.

.MAY 22, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan