Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 67, Indianapolis, Marion County, 28 July 1930 — Page 11

JULY 28, 193(L

.OUT OUR WAY

ms VS^LU > VOU CAM ,oOf 1 WA*S IKJVOUP faTmef?%> v | t RAP OW "tv-AE HOOSt. A PoQUC HJCtHWAV. \ f amo owe wim a J& i amw RIGHT -tb “Tell People. | J UIKI"T. mV VvJweM -To OrE.T OFP A PoBuC e>TREE"T f i I Rap okj -the -tauv< vooß daughter. SvAH / i Floor whcm He 1 was home ©f.fowe \ 1 “TkAOUGx*AT VOO eHOO-Djr| -f\M£LV£ LA'S.T NU&HT. v -/^- < = > I ' afl VJI-W MOTHERS GET Beau s.pat. orr. 930 ST BEA SERVICE. IHCT j A- "

HKHMiSff BY= KATHLEEN NORRIS • COPYRI&HT, 1930. htftkt BELL SYNDICATE

WHO’S WHO IN THE STORY: PATRICIA CHEREBROUOH. memhrr of • n old family ei' Intrenched In society, receives an offer .rom the family oi . BEATRICE PALMER to put her across in fashionable circles and get for her Invitations to the exclusive clubs and dances. The offer Is made bluntly and frankly bv Beatrice's brother. DAN PALMER, who stipulates that If Beatrice marries one of the ellgibles Patricia will get an additional fee of M 5.000. The suggestion Is made by Dan and hia mother that Beatrice's portrait be painted bv SIDNEY HUTCHINSON, a popular artist. whose work has attracted the fashionable crowd. Sidney has been Pat's pal from childhood. The situation Is complicated bv return of HELENA, an actress Introduced as his sister, who is going to New York for an engagement and wants him to try his luck there as a painter. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER FIVE (Continued) He treasured up every word he heard her say. and these words went through and through his head when he supposedly wa3 absorbed in the claims of the great Sensatone Company or when he was playing golf or driving about the city. glanced at her now, sitting in his heavenly companionship beside him, at the crossed' boots on the footrest, at the locked bare hands in her lap, at the smooth line of cheek under a gypsy hat, and his senses swam with a joy as keen as pain. "Isn’t this pleasant?” she said happily, after a while, as they ran through a village full of sfrnall homes and watered gardens and reached the bridge. “You always could have one of the cars,” Dan said gruffly. .“Aren’t we going frightfully fast?” asked the eternal feminine, making his heart reel and stagged with an upward look. “We can go slower!” Dan never had talked so easily with her before. "I hate to rush through all this beauty!” Patricia indicated the sluggish river that was stained red, and the houses along its banks, where little home lights were beginning to prick through the twilight. “I thought you were going to rest today?” Dan ventured presently. “I was. But Miss Hutchinson had an engagement, and It seemed a good time for the last picnic of the season,” the girl answered simply. "You know him pretty well— Hutchinson?" Dan asked suddenly trembling. "Ever since we were children. He Is almost the oldest friend I have.” "And then some!” Dan said darkly. She raised her eyebrows, but punished him by giving him no answer. a a a •‘T’LL tell you one thing. Miss X Chesebrough..” Dan added, after a silent half mile. His voice was half rough, half contemptuous, he laughed, but there was no mirth in the laugh. “If you were engaged to me, you wouldn't go off for a day In the woods with me. like a couple of nice, middle-aged school teachers with their knitting!” A little puzzled, she glanced at him with’her self-possessed smile. Then her eyes narrowed with a look of affront, and the splendid color crept from her throat to the dark hair that framed her forehead. A pulse fluttered in her throat, she raised her chin proudly and fixed her eyes upon the street ahead of them. Barbarian! she thought haughtily. But she was routed, and fell silent before* the strange glimpse of the male. That night she slept in the unbelievable luxuries of the castle. Sidney had had an engagement, and left them when they reached the city, and Patricia, who was giving Beatrice a luncheon at the club the next day, wanted to have a little talk with the girl before her first real appearance. There was a supper that was almost indecent in its abundance, and after it Patricia and the brother and sister played bridge. The three young people had a spirtied game of dummy, while a maid unobtrusively changed the disks on the big phonograph and the mother dreamed contentedly by the fire. Later on Dan went Into the adjoining room and busied himself with his player-piano, but Patricia - would not encourage this obvious ••showing off,” and followed Beatrice upstairs. "Monday is the big day at the club, you know.” she reminded the girl, "and you’ll wear your old i school tailor-made, won’t you, and Ino Jewels? Let them talk, and don’t yisten too attentively. We don’t

take them seriously, you understand?” ’ Beatrice listened haughtily. “It’s very nice of you to take an interest in me, Miss Chesebrough,” she said, with resentful girlish coolness. “It seems to make a great difference to mama and Dan, but for my part I don’t see that the Pomeroys and the Throckmortons are one bit better than anybody else.” “I don’t know that I ever said they were,” Patricia answered coldly. a a a “TY7HY, who are the Bruces?” VV Beatrice went on angrily. "Their grandfather used to have a department store. Mama remembers it very well, over on East Pearl street. And the Cheneys’ uncle ran a saloon, and one of the Pells was mixed up in that Terry scandal.” “My dear girl, I know all that,” Patricia said patiently; “but the fact remains that they are all rich and exclusive, and—well, and powerful now, and they are society.” “And those are the people I am expected to kowtow to,” Beatrice said scornfully. “Those are the people. You can take them or leave them!” The two girls had stopped in the dim soft light of the big upper hall, and now Patricia ended her ultimatum with a little cynical shrug and smile. “They have emphasized the good things in their various families,” she added, “and ignored the bad, and their money has helped them to put their best foot forward. I don’t suppose there’s a family in America that couldn't make a pretty good showing in grandfathers and uncles if it had the money! "I do know that there are real American aristocrats in this town—for instance, there's a little seamstress at my boarding house who is a direct descendant of Lord Baltimore, and that consumptive actress who committed suicide the other day was a Fairfax of Virginia—but these women are poor, and that’s enough to shut all the doors!” “We have money enough!” Beatrice muttered. “Exactly. And at 35 you can be a social leader,” Patricia assured her. The younger girl's cheeks dimpled. She liked the thought. “But how are you going to manage it?” she asked doubtfully. “Ah. I’ll manage it!” There was certainty in Patricia’s inflection, as she nodded a good night and opened her own door. a a a SLOWLY, enjoying the unwonted luxury, she prepared for bed. The bathroom was larger than her room at Mrs. Rogers*. Gloriously hot water plunged against the white enamel. The towels were thick and white and snowy and embroidered with a coat of arms. The great bed was turned down invitingly, shaded lamps were lighted, and the thousand tiles of the fireplace each reflected a dancing wood fire. She presently touched the button that darkened the room except for the bedside light. Then she went to the great window and opened one after another to the autumn light. There were stars above Lafayette avenue, but no moon. Roofs and chimneys showed here and there above the tops of the thinning trees. Under them the street lamps made pools of yellow brilliance. A firefly in October? Patricia looked keenly at the dot of light that glowed by the fence. It was the red tip of a cigaret. and by its tiny light she could distinguish the figure of a man standing motionless beside the hedge. Instantly she knew that it was Dan. It was Dan. watching her window. Fatricia felt her heart hammer for a second of surprise; she turned back into her room. “What an absurd thing for him to do,” she said to herself, with suddenly hot cheeks. "The idiot!” She got into bed, opened an illustrated magazine, looked off the page to say, “The idiot ! ” again. She would not humor her contemptuous curiosity with another stealthy look to see if he was still there, but presently snapped off her light and settled herself comfortably for sleep. This was the time when her thoughts oftenest went to Sidney, to the future when they should have the long-planned studio together—when the artist's beautiful wife should preside at his fireside, and all

—By Williams

the dignity and fullness and beauty of life come to her at last . A great door slammed somewhere downstairs. He had come in, then. CHAPTER SIX ONE afternoon, when Beatrice, chaperoned by an elderly English maid, was posing, Patricia paid four calls. She went first to the old-fash-ioned, comfortable home of the Anthony Pages. It was an immense bay-windowed house, painted dark gray, with some scrolls and ornaments in millwork about the high windows, but an effect of solidity and dignity nevertheless. It had given a congressman and a senator to the nation in the sixty years when Pages, Pells and Bishops had moved through its great halls, and its atmosphere was assured, proud, unassailable. An iron filigree fence and high shrubs shut it from the street and were reflected in the plate glass of the lower windows. Patricia went familiarly through the enormous square hall, past big, open folding doors that showed tremendous rooms furnished with all the cumbersome great furnishings of the Victorian era. Mrs. Page’s own sitting room was upstairs, and here the girl found her, beside the splendid bed of coals that glowed behind the polished steel rods of the grate. “Pat, you angel!” said the hostess, holding out a warm, smooth hand, “take off your things, and sit down. My dear, I’m almost mad. The cards for the Entre Nous have come, and they’ve got to get out this week. Florence promised to come in and help me, and she’s not here.” Patricia laid aside muff and scarf and pushed up her veil, reaching lazily for a box of taffies. “List?” she asked, glancing at a much-rumpled slip of paper in Mrs. Page’s hand. “This,” her aunt said, frowning at it, after she had scrambled some other papers vaguely in her lap. “is really, I think, about complete! Sixty girls and eighty-four men. You have to have more men, you know, for they won’t come, and they won’t dance, and every girl wants to bring a girl guest sometimes. “I wish I could cut down the girls! If dear old Dr. Underhill dies, that will cut out Edith and Elinor ” she added hopefully. And with a worried air she pressed a pencil and black book upon Patricia, “Now you check,” she commanded, “and I’ll get rid of some of this stuff.” “This is just what I came to talk to you about,” Patricia said, in the first pause. “Can you give me a card for Beatrice Palmer?” “Oh, my dear!” Mrs. Page looked up quickly, half-warning, halfamused. '•“lt's out of the question, of course! I’m sorry, but it really isn’t possible. Bhe wouldn't enjoy it if I did. Nc ell her it is impossible.” (To Be Continued.)

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR

Tarzan's warriors came to the entrance of Opers treasure chamber just as the earthquake subaided. For two days they labored to tear a way through the debris-jammed passage. When they found the task impossible they were forced to conclude Tarzan lay dead beneath the rock mass. Tearfully they left what they thought was his tomb, taking with them the heavy burden of gold which the ape-man had already brought forth. -

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES *

CjW. VG MOMEXTC \s AT HNWb P. Soots vs aol. | -Agfa. SET TO HO9 OTT ON HER 6VKti*. TuGWT To I*MO k THE VWZE . CFTtRtO TO Tv\fc OMt <->TNYIM6 IM TW& S ' . -BeKr MR. Trtfc LON6EBY i YY£ ELASTIC S.O9E \6 HOOKEO I* V [ P.^TO..jfr ; -^ |l W ON TO KS.S. PLANE .RE NOV TO SNAP \T OFT INTO Bf |J t

-i -mwv. AViNoKfc \S> r' ■'' '“''xV. VMMO WOOVO 60 OP \N / _ Wft OF TVS e\ux BY NCA SERVICE INC ma. u s PET Off. • * M J

FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

7U6 siNuuev 6ams ROAD TO ASATS AM' IP THEY SAMJ j YX> DON'T I 'A'OU.O BE SAPER NNITU THEM ,^ll VOO COtolM' FCOWi TO\*JM TUEY'D /MEAM TO WAN AMY OP OS AM' THEY'D \ MEAN |§ IYXO VOO OP NCAW A COUPIE J TEu. ME ENJOY THE WORSE BACK RIDE J f KIDS ON WORSE BACK TUEVD j '*> U 'B6 (SOlMfi GO Do\nN AN' SET THAT / Jj o ? s6 I7M I ! MEYER NOTICE THE SECOMD r\ "E> S6ND TWE SEVEN YEAR. OLD—WES S# We FUNNY £ - Js l BOYS FOR SENTUg AN' AT TWE SAME SAITY K ... i1.a.i.1 .*

WASHINGTON TUBBS II

f BEFOCe YOU, CAPTAIN, MARCHES T __i HUMPH*. LOOK MORE LIKE A PACK YOUR GLORIOUS ARMY—THE FINEST j O'. CIRCUS CIOvIMSTO ME. WHY, SIX

SALESMAN SAM

BteiuuTe. I'LL ) i VJtswT va vjoulo, Y uJlP<s.< r-Y MISTER-CA'Y BREAD-

MOM’N POP

r T*. THAT '~' V \ / JUST t_OC.H~AT * ( ANNFUU.DIBTY. \ / BUT T / ( THOSE SHECT STHAT MQI V f LITTLE DOG I VI j/ SMASHED HIS \ *MOM ! \ BCD WITH YOU ■ * ll FEET BEFORE TANARUS" l CALL THE DOG-CATCHER J \ J \ 1 LET HIM IN I X. THIS MINUTE J PLEASE.

This would at least furnish comfort, If not happiness, to their bereaved and beloved mistress. They fiiade their mournful way back across the desolate valley and downward through the forests to the distant bungalow of Tarzan. As they marched a sorry fate was already drawing down upon that peaceful happy home. From the north came Achmet Zek riding to the summons of Werper's letter. With him cams his horde of renegade Arabs.

—By Martin

(rrs *a tram? lookin'eor^buJrTg-ht. df^r 1 Aren't You "We. sams. an'TU doctor sex l we\NO-oiyr- am’ vhs face looks) i'll se.e'.. S'Nfu v obme: some Pie, Msa/er. vm-L6e. (ag-fun,

* i Mugambi, the black Hercules, who had been Tarzan’s faithful friend, was the first to note the bold approach of the sinister caravan. He had been left in charge of the warriors who remained to guard Lady Greystoke. Quickly he assembled his men as the raiders halted a hundred yards out upon the plain. From the now barred windows of the bungalow Lady Greystoke surveyed her bodyguard with ) unmixed pride and affection, having no fear.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

rEGAD, LAPS I # ~-PIAV TH’ I|l CAM Vod IMAGIMB | HAMS Be EM oBSERW/Mg]|| game vurtvi PSAS If A PELLA PIAViMg -THE STaPEMJ?OOS *# AM' MAKS BuMKERS )-{ OUrf OF A BU'ETER w PoPULARrtV OF "THOSE )1 OUT" OF MASHEP 0 HA2ARP UirTH > miMia-ture golf courses Si po-Ta-Toes •yi A pessert spooM. AROLiMP -TOWM ;—> use -TH’ SUGAR Sfr- il L su^ J e f;,J2i —BV 75b v/E , r HAVE a jj BOV4JL For A SAM P il P J™ SfU ]^ P PySLOLJS IPSA ro U -TfeAP AM’ A f ILc'cii ~PnH E UP A MIPGETf SUCE OF SLJISS A f£\ LF COURSE THA-r <£ AS A • \L Plg^ AM BE PLAVEP )( pu '%^i 3 <3REEM.) qijo>ic stmncfc me. •. u. • T. OfT. >

■'P TO Bmp Jf=-~ AM’ ser M -- fM ITS RISKY SOSIMSSS TRoSTIM" ) l Sank S~~— Jr A coople hondreo Oou.ars ) ioo a '~r- ib those kids —'nsll-if / ce ? . :' : > amythims happeks uc X L . I vt , SBIWCB.IN&

Ynwe a care, insolent) sun, vve hanoleo men ml my ufe."\ At is written, stop *o CAPTAIN. TO WHOM YOU / BUT NEIiER BEFORE WAS 1 EXPECTED THAT A PROS ONCE RENT ADDRESS YOUR lit- /TO Vim BATTLES WITH SUCH an UNDIS* THROAT AD'IISIWC* AN EAGLE. MANURED SPEECH. A CIPLINED, ILL-EQUIPPED MOB. WHAT UO\>l TO FUY. DO NOT TUTOR anrtfri,..,.,-,.., TFV NfCT\ XIIH, IS. SIV WEEKS THE GREAT MASTER* diftPirW* ; > TRAINING, AND-- AND WOE UNTQ YOUi l* VDO

.ll'au. piqht.TN t: / iWOWT CALL THE J I l**! V /A w \ f DOG-CATCHER but / ( ) 1 Will NOT HAVE / V \ THAT DOG AROUND /(“TI j[ 0 1,

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

“Arabs,” Mugambi had explained to her, “they come for no good purpose in the absence of the Great Bwana.” Jane saw the white-robed force of mounted Arabs and between them and the bungalow the glistening bodies of her Wazirl. The sun glanced on their metal spears and picked out the gorgeous colors in the feathers of their war bonnets above the glossy skins of their broad shoulders. “What harm," she thought, “can befall me with such as these to protect me£

PAGE 11

—By Ahern:

—By Blossei;

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan