Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 93, Indianapolis, Marion County, 27 August 1930 — Page 8

PAGE 8

OUT OUR WAY

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Wollmood Storu

BEGIV HERE TODAY DAN RORIMER. a scenario writer In Hollywood, is In love with ANNE WINTER. who. beginning: as an extra, has progressed rapidly and is now under contract to one of the largest studios. Anne lives with two other girls. MONA MORRISON, a gay little red head, and EVA HARLEY, a quiet girl, who at timps is very hitter and w’ho has had a tragic love experience. Eva and Mona are extras. but Mona works only occasionally and Eva very rarely, and this is another reason for her despondency. PAUL COLLIER, who writes a daily movie column for a string of newspapers, shares Dan's apartment with hint. Dan is under contract at CONTINENTAL PICTURES, but after reorganization and a. quarrel with an executive, he leaves. Asa Iree larice. he is not successful at first, and he broods a good deal over what he thinlre is his lack of real ability. Every step upward that Anne takes seems to Dan to remove her that much farther from him. She has managed to Set a contract to her liking after turning own a first offer. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (Continued.) He thought back to the night that he had met Anne Winter, and he could not help smiling a little ironically at the strange reversal in their positions that a few short months had brought about—Anne from extra girl with only one day of experience, to contract player with the most important of the Hollywood picture companies; himself from staff writer at Continental, with a contract calling for more money than he had ever been paid before, to a free lance who had toiled for two weeks without producing a thing that satisfied him. He was more than a little dismal. He remembererd that he had told Anne half jokingly that he might, go back to New York and take up where he had left off. He did not want to, certainly; it would mean defeat, and it would mean leaving Anne, and neither would be pleasant. He turned dispiritedly back to the typewriter which never had looked so cheerless as it did on this hot afternoon. He had been struggling with an idea for a picture. At. first it had seemed a wonderful idea, but that was before he had begun to set his thoughts down on paper. Now, the more he WTote the more dissatisfied he became: sheet after sheet had emerged from his typewriter only to be flung disgustedly away after the calmer and more critical reading the next morning. Paul Collier still thought it was a great idea; Collier was encouraging. "You’ve got. the stuff, my boy. Go ahead and lick ’em.” But Paul, Dan told himself as he frowned at the page before him, did not have a girl on his mind. It was one thing to write when nothing troubled you and quite another when your thoughts were always getting scrambled up with Anne Winter. Disgustedly he got up and trudged to the kitchen for a drink of water. And then he sat down once more and lit his pipe—which was his device during periods of mental stress to keep from smoking abnormal quantities of cigarets—and tried to think about his stqry. tried to banish the dismal thought that he was just a piker in love with a girl who was destined to do things. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX PAUL COLLIER had said, “You’re invited to lunch at Maris Farrell’s. How do you do it, my boy? I’m invited because I occasionally write a piece about Maris which doesn't do her any harm, but you’re asked Just because you’re you. Maris made a special request.” Rorlmer looked doubtful, but Collier was firm. He said, ‘Tin taking charge now. “You’re getting away from that typewriter—understand? It’ll do you good: you need a change of scenery and a pretty gal like Maris to whisper sweet, nothings at you. I told her you’d come." So Dan went Maris lived with her mother in a pretty little house in Beverly Hills. There was a patio, through which they passed to reach the door, where a frisky cat patrolled the rim of a fountain, with alert eyes on the goldfish swimming tantalizingly out of reach. Mrs. Farrell was charming and youthful looking. She stayed only briefly, explaining that she had eaten an early and light luncheon and was going shopping. Leaving, she admonished her daughter not to forget a 3 o'clock appointment at the photographer’s, paused at the door, endeavoring to recall other Instructions. "And try to be quiet. Maris.” Mrs. Farrell turned to Paul and Dan with a smile blending apology and pride In Marls. “Mother speaking again,” she said. And she added: “These Hollywood mothers. , , , But Maris is such a hard-

working person, and she simply won’t rest.” “We’ll see that she does, Mrs. Farrell,” Paul Collier promised. “We won’t even let her talk.” And Maris’ mother laughed. “I see you don't know Maris as well as I do.” Luncheon was served by a quietfooted maid. There were pleasant things said about Mrs. Farrell, and Dan gathered that the spectacularly bftnd Maris was very proud of her. Mrs. Farrell, he learned, was a widow, and Maris her only child, and Maris informed him that she had been on the stage since childhood. "Under mother’s watchful eyes.” Maris told Dan presently: “I saw that pretty friend of yours, Anne Winter, yesterday. I understand she has signed a contract at Grand United.” Anne was now working in Martin Collins’ picture at Amalgamated. an tt DAN nodded. “That’s true,” he said, and Maris told him she had seen Anne rehearsing. "She has a lovely voice, so low and sweet and nice to listen to. It’s really very pretty; I envy her. You knew that she was going to have a couple of songs in Martin Collins’ picture?” Dan said he did. "He manages to keep posted about her,” Collier observed, and Dan smiled and spoke again to Maris. “Anne is taking vocal lessons, you know. Shell be glad to get your compliment.” “And you may be sure that Maris means it,” Collier told him. "Maris is one of the few who are not jealous, and she really speaks her mind. Don’t you. Maris?” Listen to the man!* Maris cried. “Isn’t he a pal?* She laughed merrily. ashing perfect teeth. "Paul likes to believe nearly all persons are catty. But he doesn’t think so; he s such a half-hearted cynic!” "Sure, I’m a pal.” Paul said, reaching over to shake hands with her, and Maris assured Dan that, regardless of whether he believed Paul or not, she really meant what she said about Anne Winter. "She has a lot of talent, really, and Martin Collins likes her very much; he told me so. This picture she's in now—it's a comedy of some sort from the stage, isn’t it?” Collier said it was and told her the name. “They’re changing the name, anyway. It’s a farce comedy, and they’re adding to the love interest by packing some song numbers into it. It ought to be pretty good.” "Anyway,** Maris said, "Anne Winter seems to be pretty good.” “You ought to have seen her in ’Song of the Stars,’ the picture Hurley made,” Paul said. "Dan and I saw the preview the other night at Grand United. Anne has a song and a dance in it, and the gal’s there—no fooling.” After lunch they sat out in tire patio and talked about a forthcoming picture in which Maris was to be featured. It was her first picture as a featured player, and Maris was thrilled about it. She and Collier talked a great deal, with Dan sitting by and smoking, and commenting only when he was directly appealed to. Presently Paul looked at his watch and stood up. "Quarter to 3,” he said. “If you expect to keep that appointment at 3, Dan and I had better duck. Can we drive you down?” But Maris said no, she would drive her own car, and at the gate Paul lingered to ask her if she had made arrangements to attend the picture premiere the following week. “Why, no,” Maris said. “Then how about going with me?” "I’d like to very much. What night is it?” “A - week from Friday night, at the Carthay Circle.” tt tt it ON their way back to town Paul suggested to Dan that he ask Anne Winter to the opening. “I've already put in a bid for four seats.” And he said, “Nice girl, Maris. Like her?” “Very nice.” Dan said mechanically, and was silent again, thinking. Paul glanced at him quickly and was worried. He had hoped that luncheon with Maris Farrell would take Dan's mind off the things that were bothering him, but he could not help noticing tliat Rorimer was unusually quiet during their visit. Dan had finished his screen story. It. had been rejected by two studios and was now at a third, and he waa

—By Williams

already at work on another idea, having lost faith completely in the first. A queer duck, Collier thought; sensitive as the very devil and obstinate as a mule. Collier had said to him last night: “You expect too blamed much of Hollywood. Just because they don’t leap at your story is no sign that you’re not good. “If the studios could recognize a winner every time one came their way they wouldn’t be human. You were touchy enough when you were working at Continental; now that you’re on your own, you’re even worse.” He had lectured Dan stiffly; had hoped to provoke him into an argument—anything to lift the mood that had settled about him like a black cloak. But Dan only said, “I suppose so.” And Paul tried again. "Why don’t you let me go over and talk to Martin Collins, if you don’t want to do it?” “Because,” Dan said, “it’s none of your business.” And he smiled, to take the sting out of his words, but Paul knew that he meant exactly what he had said. He tried not to be hurt about, it. He said, “All right, my boy; I guess you know best.” And Rorimer was a bit contrite. "Look here,” he said; “Martin Collins knows I’m on the loose. And, besides, Collins doesn’t run that place over there; he can’t do everything he'd like to do. “If they want me to go to work over at Amalgamated they’ll tell me so, because Collins told them about me when he went over there. “And, anyway, I'm not so sure that I’d go, with nothing more than Collins’ say so to recommend me to them.” He was a flop, he told Collier. “Just a flop. Continental signed me without knowing a thing about me except that I’d written a few stories and they happened to want to make a picture out of one of them.” “You’re crazy,” Paul said. “Just crazy.” “I'm saner than I ever was. Trouble with me I had a big head. Continental didn’t like my bright ideas, so I told them to fire me.” He said, flatly, “Well, nobody else is jumping at any of them,” and he talked on in the same vein, trying to persuade Collier to accept his argument that unless he was able to sell a screen story as a free lance he was not good enough to be signed to a contract, at Amalgamated or any other studio. tt ' tt it AND Paul said again: “You're crazy. I won't argue with a man that’s lost his reason.” Paul was clear-sighted and wise enough to know that Rorimer had other tilings on his mind that he was saying nothing about, and Anne Winter was one of them. (To Be Continued) Lodge Aids Mission ANDERSON, Ind., Aug. 27.—Anderson lodge of Elks is donor of a shower bath system at the city mission, maintained by a number of churches.

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR

Suddenly upon this scene burst the mad bull elephant, a huge tusker, his little eyes inflamed with insane rage. The priests stood for an instant paralyzed with terror; but Tarzan turned and gathering La in his arms raced for the nearest tree. Tantor bore V down upon him, trumpeting shrilly. La clung with both white arms about the ape-man’s neck. She felt him leap into the air and, marveling at his strength and agility, swing nimbly with her into the tree’s: lower branches.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TRIES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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Now they were beyond the reach of the sinuous trunk of the pachyderm, who, baffled, wheeled and bore down upon the terror-stricken priests. After trampling many beneath his huge feet, back he tore to the tree where La and Tarzan perched. Failing to reach them only further enraged the mad creature. He bellowed and trumpeted and screamed until the earth shook. He put his head against the tree and pushed until the £ee bent before his mighty rtrength; but sfOl It held. ' ii ' :=

—By Martin

[ 3\iST SAID -'AW, CrWAM SPY l YOURE. CrOOFY! > fan’ cor rropF-see- ip ywn&ouTft phone, for •we CAR<e"- . -'PEOpue.YO CALL ORDERS tu on,we Wouldn’t oo (any \\ ~s , r „IU

Tarzan sat silent, and upon his handsome face was a *look of deep sorrow and pity, for of all the jungle folk Tarzan loved Tantor most Now the elephant wound his trunk about the bole of the tree, spread his gTeat feet wide apart and tugged to uproot the jungle giant. Mightily he strove until presently, to Tarzan's consternation, the great tree gave slowly at its roots. The ground rose in little mounds, the tree tilted—soon it would be uprooted and “ I

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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r ir'p harauy'&e worth! 1 c'fion, let's .go Jk

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The ape-man whirled La to his back, and just as the tree inclined slowly before the sudden rush of its 'final collapse, he swung to the branches of a lesser neighbor. It was a long and perilous leap. La closed her eyes and shuddered; but when she opened them again she found herself safe and Tarzan whirling onward through the forest. Behind them the uprooted tree crashed heavily downward. Tantor. realizing his prey had escaped, set up his hideous, Jxumpeting and rapidly followed their trail. 4

.AUG. 27, 1930

—By Ahem

—By Blosser;

—By Crand

—By Small

—By Cowart