Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 16, Indianapolis, Marion County, 29 May 1930 — Page 8

PAGE 8

OUT OUR WAY

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MWmiA Uv julie ann Moore theTinde pendent 3 synoicate

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE (Continued.) But as she drew a foot back to kirk the corner of the rug in place, she saw what appeared to be bits of broken plaster between the rug and the door. Fallen plaster was nothing unusual in the Chubb flat, however, and shoving it to one side, she straightened the rug. Then she turned out the living room light and went to her room. nun WHEN Mrs. Chubb went to Mary Della's room Monday morning to wake her, she found the bed empty, but a note pinned to the covers read: “Be back in time to eat. Going to take a walk around the block.” “There’s something funny going on around here, Henry.” Mrs Chubb told her husband when he entered the kitchen. “Mary Della’s up already and she left a note on her bed saying she was going to walk around the block. “Goodness knows how long she’s been up. And night before last I thought I heard something fall in the living room. I got up and opened our door, but the living room was dark and everything quiet; so I went back to bed.” “Looks like you just got to ha\e something to fret about. Mother,’ Mr. Chubb replied, sitting down to the table. “I think something funny’s going on, too, but it don’t worry me any. Mary Della's got plenty of sense and plenty of nerve, and I’m betting she’s not doing anything she ought’n to.” “Have you noticed she’s not going out nights to meet Joe Speaks any more?” Mrs. Chubb asked, lifting two fried eggs and a slice of bacon from the pan to Mr. Chubb’s plate. “No, I hadn’t noticed it, but that ought to suit you. You never did like the Speaks boy anyhow, did you?” -That hasn’t got anything to do with it,” Mrs. Chubb declared. “There's a reason for the way the child's acting and I'd like to know what- it is.” “Well ”

“Morning, Pop. Hello. Mom. Am I late?” Mary Della smiling, sailed through the door and took her place at the table. “Couldn't sleep. Mom,” she added. “Just had to get out and walk it off.” “Walk what off?” asked her mother. "Whatever it was that wouldn't let me sleep. Say. it’s late, isn't it? Never mind about the toast, Mom. I’ll have to hurry.” Diming most of the noon hour Miriam was all ears, drinking in the delectable reports of Mary Della's entertaining week-end. “But what I can't get into my bean, honey,” she told Mary Della, “is why the Red Mask should go to your house. Do you know, it looks like he must of heard something about you being oy,t there when he killed that Hicks girl . . . Don’t you think so, darling?” “I don't know% Miriam . . . Not changing the subject too quick, but did you ever hear Joe sing falsetto?” “Sing what? I don’t even know what it is?” “Well, I'm not so sure myself,” Mary Della admitted, “but I think it means to sing in a high voice. If a man was singing falsetto, I guess he would sound like a woman. See?” nun THAT'S enough explanation for for me. but this is the first time I ever heard that Joe Speaks could sing anything but his own praise. Sure you aren't talking about Timmy, now? He can sing just like a woman.” “No, I'm talking about Joe . . . Miriam, do you think the Red Mask can be anybody we know?" “Honey! Are you batty? What do you think . . . Oooooh . . . ! So that's it. Poor kid; they've worried you about this thing until you're getting balmy.” “But I’m not. Miriam.” Mary Della resented the form of Miriam's sympathy had taken. “I'm merely trying to test out every possibility; and whether it sounds sensible or not, it's something to think about. Do you remember that night in the armory . . . ? “Sure, but they were all out. Joe, Timmy and your Robert. You can't suspect one without suspecting the others.” “I’m not suspecting anybody. Miriam. I'm just asking myself questions. I cant get over the feeling that the Red Mask wouldn't of come to my house Saturday night

unless he knew a lot more about me than I know about him. And you mustn't forget Joe threatened me at the dance.” “Hush!” Miriam cried. “Don't you understand? The Red Mask is a murderer! You couldn’t think that about . . “Huhu!” Mary Della cried. “Don't say it. You don't understand what I'm going through, Miriam. I'm not accusing Joe of anything. I know it couldn't have been Joe Saturday night.” “You don’t mean you got a good look at the Red Mask’s face?” “Oh, no. not that. It was dark, Miriam, and it was just by the dim glow from the flashlight that I made out a vague white face and the mask , . . But in the darkness he looked about Joe’s size and I didn't sleep a wink all night for thinking about it. Nor last night, either. And before breakfast this morning I went out and called up. the police station on the telephone.” “For what, precious?” “To find out if they’d kept Joe in jail. Some cop took him in after his racket with Timmy at the park, you know.” “You told me that, but . , . they wouldn't keep him in a cell two nights for that.” “But they did,” Mary Della declared. “Whoever answered the phone said he was still there and would be there until after court this morning.” “Well,” said Miriam cheerfully, “that saves you any more worry about Joe. Now who else ...” “I don’t know whether it does or not. Miriam. Joe couldn’t of been in our flat and in the police station at the same time, but he could of been out on the Cheshire road. The trouble is, I’ve lost all faith in Joe, and I'm ready to think anything.” “I know how you feel, darling, but it just isn't possible. Joe. I mean. I suppose you’re putting Bob to the test, too. . .?” ”1 couldn't very well when he was sitting in the car with me when the woman was killed. But look at the clock—we've got to fly . .

nun JOE’S stay in jail had two important developments. Before they locked him up, they searched his pockets and among papers in an inside coat pocket they came across what appeared to be an innocent note from a young man to a young woman. The policeman conducting the search merely glanced at it and shoved it back in his prisoner's pocked. “Better take another eyeful of that,” Joe said with a sneer. “You flatfeet don’t know important evidence when you see it. Didn’t notice the bottom of that letter was tore off, did you?” Purely from curiosity, the officer took the letter out once more and inspected the torn sheet. “I've seen tom billet doux before,” he said genially. “Bet you never saw one like that before,” Speaks countered. “Give the Super one look at that note and he'll make a sergeant out of you. Remember that note about the Red Mask murder on the Cheshire road? The piece it was wrote on was tore off that letter. See?” "And where'd you get it?” “Oh, that’d be telling,” Joe chided. “But if the Super wants the straight dope, I can give it to him.” “I think you’re giving me a good time.” the officer declared pleasantly enough. “But I won't take no chances. I’ll leave it where the Super can find it first thing Monday morning, and if you've lied to me . . .” “Lied to you?” Joe repeated. “Say do you understand I may be getting myself into a lot of trouble? But I got a reason. See? I'm going to square a rotten deal, and that’s the way to do it.” If the superintendent wasn't disposed to make a sergeant of the officer who left the note under his office door, he was certainly elated sufficiently to send him a word of commendation. And a good half hour before city court opened Monday morning he had Joe Speaks brought to his office. “I understand,” the superintendent said, "that you can tell me something about !his letter?” “Sure I can," Joe answered readily. “I can tell you plenty. But what do I . . “The city editor of The American wants to see you. sir,” the superintendent's secretary interrupted. “He says it is very important”

—By Williams

i The superintendent frowned, j “Tell him I'll see him in about ten minutes. No. . . wait a minute.” nun TJE motioned to Speaks to wait a moment and went to the outer office. “Hello, Ray. I’ve got a fellow in the office for a little questioning. Can you wait?” “You bet,” the C. E. answered. “But it’s hot stuff. Something you’d like to know about that Red Mask mystery.” “That's funny,” the superintendent declared.. “This fellow I’ve got in here is just about to give me some dope about that note.” “Couldn’t let me listen in. could you?” asked the C. E. “I’ll keep anything I hear under my hat until you break it. And what’s more, I probably can tell you more about that note than your friend in there, whoever he is.” The superintendent was confused. After waiting weeks for some information about the mysterious note, it looked as if he was about to be deluged with it.” To Joe Speaks, the superintendent merely said: “This man is working on the case. You were saying , . “I was asking you what protection I'd get if I give you the dirt on that note,” Joe informed him glibly. “Well, what protection do you need? You didn't kill the woman, did you?” “That’s a funny one,” Speaks answered easily. “Killing ain’t in my line, but I don’t want to get in trouble by trying to help you to get the right man, that’s all.” “Well, you won’t get into any trouble you don’t deserve,” the superintendent promised. “We aren’t trying to convict innocent people, you know ... Do you know who wrote that note?”

“If you don't mind my butting in. superintendent,” the C. E. said, pulling his chair a little nearer, “do you mind if I write a name on a piece of paper and give it to you before he answers your question? If it’s the same name . . . well, it’ll save you some trouble checking up on both of our statements . . .” He tore a strip from the top of a newspaper in his pocket, wrote something on it, folded it carefully, and handed it to the superintendent. “All right,” the superintendent nodded at Joe. “Can you answer my question?” “I can you know,” Joe replied lightly. “Her name is Mary Della. Mary Della Chubb.” He grinned to show his complete satisfaction with himself. nun nPHE superintendent unfolded the A bit of paper in his hand and looked up at the C. E. “I guess that settles it, all right. Now where can we get our hands on the young lady, Ray?” “That’s what I came to see 4 you about,” the C. E. repfied. “But I'd like to see you alone if you don’t mind.” The superintendent rang a bell and a uniformed officer entered. (To Be Continued)

THE SON OF TARZAN

Meriem never went with Bwana’s g 'est upo,i a hunt. She could find no pleasure in filling for mere sport. On these occasions she wculd accompany the riders across the plains, then ride into the jungle, and there take to the trees. For hours she would revel in the unalloyed pleasures of a return to the wild, free existence of her earlier years, leaping and swinging through the trees, or stretching comfortably upon a branch, dreaming.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS J.I

SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N ROP

Im, / GEE. I HOPE THAT NEW ) I .Jh ihat A.piruL young hkn \ BIG GIRL

Today the Hon. Morison, returning toward evening from the hunt, saw Meriem's horse tethered near the jungle's edge. He galloped to the animal’s side, dismounted and on foot entered the trail. He had gone but a short distance when he heard a great jabbering in a nearby tree. Coming closer he saw a band of baboons and to his amazement he also saw a girl swing ape-like into the tree below the beasts who were quarreling over some cloth.

—By Martin

DIDN’T V OH, wIELLI OJJ j come within / probably see iMI f got to cut \ 1.-Wk NILES OT it. /another ONE IMA ( DO*)N ON OUR / jWM ■ ' fEW MINUTES. I M8.,1 lufc SITTrt DM Tuetß SPIRITS ftCGVN TO TROOP. w there is no breeze, the sun beats down orlwEA 'mwejmc§ l ONM.ER.dFUU.-f. EASY ISOOWN WITH A EEVER.

He was about to put a bullet through the nearest baboon that seemed about to leap upon her when he heard the girl speak. Then he almost dropped his rifle in surprise, he recognized Meriem. A strange jabbering identical with that of the apes broke from her Ups. The baboons were evidently equally surprised for they stopped their snarling and slowly one approached and gave her back the articles they had stolen while she dreamed.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

KlftUl PAAJ —* BEFORE *JE V4ELL SA-aV —— I |f A Tj-r' i-r is u/apE-Rs-roop vou’ReToo ze^SA-n o<l al., li i, SEV yeArrh( Hols Jj 5 - P oS£P -To PC i [ 3 e h) I I -— rioLp -r^s iS-fo -THAT, eH 2 || _ WHiLe VBE A Brf off Form —jV (jRAPS-PRUFTf voU Poߣ'tH' EMV PLAVEP FOR A FEUJ <£ AIF -fW’ -ITmS I A BALL iaJ ; LASn GAME VJAS tfl-f -fri' VOooPEU j > "fr OR Jcsoaab vJrtri HA6SaJ ! "-fES FARTHER _r >/ wHatT 2 <-M—ALAS o^i-THE LAS-f L. "Ti4 T f Hole I bleuJ dp at-PVTCt. Wfc j |

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VI BDOOGWT YOOD BOG BKCH, \ YOOD SISTED SUSt f GEE.IT MUST BE VWT A LONESOME \ (,T * n>SS-*-A-I'WNNT TO APOLOGUE ] POUSHED HIM UP*. FOP YOU-NOT KNOWING MIYONE you V I top my kid sistcp. v made hep )he cook* wondeoful- ought VCOme ouep tsee K< SiGtep \ w r | CLEAN AU. THE PMNT OFF. MV JMY NAME GLADYS. SHE'S NOTHING BUT A KID-OP V k •> J

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

For several more minutes the girl carried on what could be nothing less than a conversation. The baboons chattered tc her and she chattered back. The Hon. Morison Baynes mopped his perspiring brow and made his way back to his horse. When Me’iem emerged from the jungle a few minutes later, she found him there, looking at her with wide eyes in which were both wonder and ter. jr. They were half way home before either spoke.

3IAY 29, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

By Small

—By Cowan