Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 104, Indianapolis, Marion County, 9 September 1930 — Page 9

SEPT. 9, 1930

OUT OUR WAY

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begin here today B'-elnninft as an extra. ANNE WINTER., an ambitious younK actress from Tulsa. Olila.. has progressed rapidly and Is under contract to Grand United, one of the largest of the Hollywood studios. Anne has been living with two other extras. MONA MORRISON and EVA HARLEY. The latter, because of a tragic love experience and her failure to make the grade.” leaves Hollywood and returns to New Orleans. DAN RORIMER. former New York newspaper man and now a scenario writer, is in love with Anne, but he has come to regard his feeling for her as a hopeless one. especially since his release from Continental Pictures and his rather unsuccessful attempts to free lance. PAUL COLLIER, who writes a dally movie column lor a string of newspapers. shares Dens apartment with him. He has great faith in Dan s ability. despite the latter’s discouragement. While in New York Dan had written a play for the stage. His agent, unable to place it. sends it back, and Anne and Collier read it and arc enthusiastic. They urge Dan to revise it for the movies. Dan follows their advice. The play eventually is accepted by Grand United, and he is told that he may be offered a contract. Knowing that Anne would like to play a dramatic role. Rorlmer suggests to studio executives that she be given a test for the leading feminine part. Heretofore she has played roles in which her singing and dancing featured. GARRY SLOAN is to direct the picture. He gives her a test and is enthusiastic over her voice. He gives the part, to her. Sloan is the biggest director in Hollywood, and Anne naturally is elated over the opportunity. She and Rorimer go out. together that evening for a drive. She is so happy. 'e tells him. that the wants to ‘ talk id talk and talk." NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX (Continued.) Anne made a little face at the word. What she wanted most of jxl! to do, she said, was talk. “The world’s so wonderful all of a sudden, Dan, and I’m so happy and excited about everything! I just want to talk and talk and talk!”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN we’ll talk then.” Dan VV settled back in the seat and laughed. “You can talk my head off if you w'ant to and it will be all right with me.” He drove then to Santa Monica, and there they swung down to the beach. The ocean lay in front of their., heaving and murmtiring with a whispered song and bearing a grateful breeze to them. And there they sat and talked for a while in muted voices, but presently both were silent with thoughts of their own. Dan smoked and after a while Anne stirred and said the ocean was like that, “it takes all the talk out of you, doesn't it? I mean, at night. In the day time it’s a gay, frolicking thing, but at night it’s so solemn. It seems to be saying ‘hush’ all the time.” "That's very true,” he gravely agreed, and he took her hand and held it in his own and seemed to be stuying it. And finally he looked up at her face again. “I was just thinking, Anne. You’ve come a long way since that first night we came down here.” “And you too, Dan.” she smiled. “No, it’s different. I had everything in my favor to begin with, and I came very near to making a mess of it.” ~ “But you didn’t. You've done something to be proud of. And where would I have been if it hadn’t been for you?” Dan shrugged. “You mustn’t say that. Sooner or later they’d have found out what you’re capable of. 'Why, all I did was to put them wise to themselves.” Anhe gave a little pressure to the hand that was holding hers. It was just like him. she said softly, not to want any credit for what he had done. And Dan insisted that none belonged to him. He told her again that her chance would have come anyway. He didn’t want her to ieel under any obligation to him. For one thing, he thought, it rather complicated the thing that he wanted to say to her. and it probably would be said awkwardly enough at best. tt tt tt RECLINING behind the wheel, he gazed up at the sky, and presently he said, without turning his head: “Anne, how would you like to get married?” -Why. Dan.” she laughed: “is that a proposal?” “You’re dam right it is.” “Well, I never heard such a casual one in my life, I must say.” “It might sound casual,” he said, j rolling his head over to look at i her. “but there’s plenty of stuff be- I hind it.” Anne made a sound with her i tongue. “Tchk. Such slang!” Dan smiled ; and then he became Suddenly serious. “Now. look here. Anne. Tonight's the night we get the record clear. There’s no use kidding ourselves any longer. I’m

crazy about you and you know :t; you’ve known it for a long time, too. Now what am I going to do about it?” He waited then for her reply, and Anne said, “Why, Dan,” confusedly, and nothing more. She turned her eyes away and look troubled. Dan said gravely, “You knew it would have to come out sooner or later, Anne. You’ve kept me from saying It for a pretty long time, but it had to come out sooner or later. I’m in love with you. I can’t help it, Anne; I just am.” He waited for her again, but she continued to gaze ahead of her toward the dark ocean, and so. he spoke again. “There for a while, when things weren't breaking for me, I maraged to keep quiet about it, but—” Anne interrupted him with a vehement shake of her head. “Oh, Dan, that wouldn’t have made any difference —not a bit. You just don’t understand.” “Well, it did to me; it made a lot of difference. You know, Anne, you told me a little while back that you sometimes thought I didn’t care what happened—whether I went over or not —but you were wrong. I had- plenty of reason for caring. . . . What don’t I understand?” he asked abruptly. “Oh, just”—she swung around and faced him—“just that I’m bewildered and don’t know what to say.” Her wide dark eyes wore a worried look. She smiled nervously and repeated: “I don't know what to say.” “Well, it’s either yes or no, isn’t it?” Dan laughed shortly. “Perhaps you mean you don’t want to hurt my feelings—is that it?” That was not it at all. Anhe denied. “I think you'he rather cruel to say that, Dan.” And she tried to explain then that marriage was something that she thought of only as a dim, far-off prospect; as something probably eventual but remote from her present scheme. She said, rather apologetically, as though there might be something not exactly normal in the admission, that she had set her mind upon a career, and that perhaps she had made a mistake and let it matter too much.

She tried to smile. “Anyway, Dan, that's the way I ieel—if you can make any sense out of what I said. And that’s why I’ve been rather afraid of* your saying what you did. “I had hoped you wouldn’t somehow', until I was surer of myself. I like you, Dan—l like you tremendously. But I'm not at all sure that I'm in love with you.” tt a a D| AN said, with a shrug and a queer little smile: “Well, if you're not sure, I guess you're not; I think you'd know', all right, if you were,” and he pulled out a | cigaret and lighted it. And Anne, watching his face, re- : marked the set look about his mouth and laid a hand caressingly, ;on his arm, “You understand, don’t you, Dan?” she asked anxiously. “We needn’t be so utterly serious about it, need we?” He said, “No, we always can be friends," blowing on the end of his cigaret; and the irony of it was almost like a blow to Anne. But she said nothing, and Dan sensed that she was hurt, and he was contrite. “I’m sorry, Anne, really. That was a nasty thing to say. I didn’t mean it at all.” He saw her eyes then and they shone with unshed tears, and he let his arm rest lightly around her shoulders, and he spoke lightly and jokingly of other things. But presently the ocean laid its spell on them again and they fell silent, and when Anne stirred uneasily Rorimer asked her if she thought it time to go. She nodded. Dan started the motor. Swinging up the hill to the main road, he made a remark about their “celebration” not having been much of a success. “Sort of a flat tire, wasn't it?” But he spoke cheerfully enough, j He said. “Well, well just let it go by default. Anne, and try it again sometime We’U just forget what happened.” He leaned toward her smilingly and Anne smiled backs at him. Presently he began to whistle,! and out of the corner of his eye he | looked sly at her to see if she was j taking notice of the song. Afine saw | him and she laughed. “lAhink you’re horrid.” she said, j “Come on, Anne, sing for me.”

—By Williams

“Not that one.” She shook her head. “Come on,” he pleaded; “for old times’ sake, Anne,” and he urged so persuasively and so persistently that finally she consented and closed her eyes and sang: “Why was I born? Why am I livins? What do I eet? What am I divine? Why do I want a thine I daren’t hope for? What can I hope for? I wish I knew Eyes straight ahead on the road, he drove. Grimly he pressed his foot down on the accelerator, and the night wind tore past them in whispered accompaniment to Anne Winter’s song, and it almost snatched a stiffled sob from his throat. “Why do I try to draw you near me? Why do I cry?—you never hear me. I’m a poor fool, but what can I do? Why was I born to love you? tt tt tt \ NNE opened her eyes then and looked at him, and in alarm she glanced at the speedometer and called his attention to it. Dan smiled and released the pressure of his foot somewhat. He thanked her then for singing. “Just like old times.” And then he talked on rapidly, told her how much her voice had improved. “I wouldn’t have believed it. That fellow must be a marvel.” He said he wondered when production would start on his picture. “What do you think of Lester Moore? Think you’ll get along with him all right? Phillips tells me he’s a regular guy—no temperament or anything—so you’re going to get a chance to do something.” To all this Anne, knowing that he was acting unnaturally, and worrying about him, murmured short replies, but when they reached she was strangely reluctant to let him go, and she found things to say that would serve as an excuse for him to linger. And when he did leave, with a promise to see her at the studio on the morrow, she waited at the opendoor until he had climbed into the car, and then she waved to him and called good-by to him again. Mona was not yet home and the place suddenly was cheerless. Anne sat down to wait for Mona and ghe found herself, for some strange reason, wondering what she would have done if Rorimer again had kissed her. She had not expected him to try it, but she wondered, nevertheless, because Dan had said something about “old times,” referring to their first evening at Santa Monica, and she had not forgotten that it was that night that Dan had kissed her. Perhaps, she argued to herself, she had. not been fair to Dan. If he really cared as much as he seemed to—and she knew that he had been trying to hide part of it from her—she had done wrong in not saying sometmng long before this. She was forlorn, feeling that she has lost a gay comrade. # Mona came in presently, loud and breezy and cheerful, and they talked: but Anne followed Dan Rorimer home in her thoughts. (To Be Continued) *

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR

Singly and in twos the searchers, who had ridden out with Achmet Zek upon the trail of the Belgian, returned empty handed. With the report of each, the raider’s rage and chagrin increased, until he was in such a transport of ferocious anger that none dared approach him. Achmet Zek paced up and down in his silken tent; tat his rage served him naught. Werper was got:? and with him was gone the fortune in gems which had aroused the Arab’s greed.

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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SALESMAN SAM

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' After the escape, o * the Arabs the gireat apes had turned their attention to their fallen comrades. One was dead, but another and the great white ape still breathed. The hairy monsters gathered about *hese two, grumbling and muttering after the fashion of their kind. Tarzan was the first to regain consciousness. Sitting up, he looked about him. The shock had thrown him dow.a and dazed him, but save for a wound ’in his shoulder he was far from dead. He rose slowly to his feet. 1

—By Martin

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The ape-man’s eyes wandered toward the spot where last he had seen the “she” who had aroused such strange emotions within his savage breast. “Where is she?” he asked. “The Tarmangai took her away,” replied one of the apes. “Who are you who speak the language of the Mangani?” “I am Tarzan,” replied the apeman; “mighty hunter, greatest of fighters. When I roar the jungle trembles. I am Tarzan of the Apes. I have *been away; but now I have come back to my people.” |

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The other apes came closer and sniffed at the ape-man. “Yes,” spoke up an old ape, “he is Tarzan. I know him. It is well that he Has come back. Now we shall have good hunting.” Tarzan stood very still, his fangs bared: his muscles tense and ready for action; but there was none there to question his right to be with them, and presently, the inspection satisfactorily concluded, the apes wished to continue upo* their interrupted march. But Tarzan preferrejj to follow the Arabs and the “she.” M

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—By Ahern

—By Blosser

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—By Cowan