Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 108, Indianapolis, Marion County, 13 September 1930 — Page 5

SEPT. 13, IC3O.

OUT OUR WAY

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CHAPTER FORTY-ONE (Continued.) When she was beside him in the ear once more lie continued where he had left off. "Was I right, Anne?" “I'm afraid you were," she smiled. What’s to be done about it?” "Something should be done about it—immediately.” He added, seriously: "Youre going to fall in love some day. Anne, and when you do you’re going to be a better actress.” "Haven’t I heard something like that before?” "I wouldn’t doubt it," he admitted. Old truths are the truest ones, after all.” "But how do we know they are truths? Doesn't that sound like an extraordinarily simple prescription for success—to fall ir l c — Sloan shook nu fie was driving through a darkened stretch and Anne could not see his face. "You’re laughing at me," his voice came to her presently, "and I'm telling you something that's good for your soul . . . You're young, Anne, and you're untouched by life, and . . He paused, and Anne wondered then if he was going to add something trite—something after the manner of fiction writers, about bringing out the soman in her to bring out the actress. But he didn't. He said instead, “You've a great talent, Anne, but you don't use it all. You haven’t learned yet to let yourself go; there's something that—l don't know—there's something inside of you that you're keeping locked up. "I said that when you fall in love you’re going to be a better actress, and I mean it. I know it doesn't sound original, because there's an awful lot of guff printed about actresses having to live their parts to act them, and all that sort of thing. And of ,urse a./ sensible person knows it sn’t true.” b t a ANNE said humbly. “I'm sorry.” She said, "I don't understand, though, what you mean about locking something up inside of me." Sloan pressed his foot on the brake pedal, and when the car stopped he turned and faced her. "Look at me," he said. And Anne wonderingly did as he told her, because she had become accustomed to obeying that authoritative ring in his voice. So she looked at him. and Sloan gazed into her eyes without a word, and then he deliberately kissed her. Anne drew back from him. and Sloan, with a little smile playing on his lips, continued to sit there and look at her. "Well?" Anne said quietly, coldly: "That was a cheap trick." "Are you angry?" She made no answer, and Sloan laughed softly. “There you are.” lie said. „ "You're angry, of course, but instead of being nice and primitive about it and slapping my face, you give me the high-hat treatment. Anne,” he declared, "you're too ladylike—you're too cold. God gave you emotion. Use it.” And then he apologized for kissing her. "Not that I didn't want to. though,' he added with a grin. “It was a clinical experiment, but it was something more. too. If you showed me any encouragement at all. I'd fall for you pretty hard. Anne.” He drove her home then and advised her to get a good night's rest, and Anne obediently went straight to bed. She lay awake for a long time, though, thinking that Garry Sloan was a very strange person, wondering if what he had said about her could be true. "Too lady-like—too cold—God gave you emotion —use it.” She was troubled. But on tire set the next morning he greeted her as though nothing at all had happened. He said "Good morning, Anne. Feeling fit?” "I had nine hours' sleep,” she answered. smiling. “I should be." ' Good.” There was something clap to be done, he said, before he would be ready for her. So Anne waited, talked for a while with Dan Rorimer, who did not linger near her long, however, but found things to keep him busy. Anne thought he was a little abrupt, but she quickly excused it. She thought, on the way to her dressing room: “I'm nothing but nerve*." It waa nearly noon when her turn finally came and she stepped beneath the blinding lights. Rorimer watched her, and he watched Garry

I Sloan, and he saw' almost at once that Sloan was not satisfied with her. But the director said nothing for perhaps two minutes; merely sat ' and frowned. Then he commanded: | "Cut!” a b a ANNE looked at him questioningly and Slcan shook his head. They would listen for a playback, i he said: perhaps Anne would disI cover v/hat w r as wrong w'hen she 1 heard it. He rose from his chair and wont over to her. and Dan saw him say things to her. in a low tone that did not carry to him. But he gathI ered from his gesture that the director was criticising her appearance as well as her voice. Anne's voice came from the loud !speaker and Sloan shrugged and lifted his hands. Presently he came back to his seat, but he stood instead of sitting, rested one foot on the chair and leaned forward. Someone commanded silence gain; Anne alone on the set. moved over to a telephone which rang faintly and lifted the receiver. A sharp erv from her and Hi" J receiver fell from her grasp and dangled on its cord from the table. Rorimer. with a cigaret unheeded ; between his fingers, looked on anxiously as she covered her face with her hands, let them fall slowly. Tears swam in her eyes; her voice faltered, was strangled. . . . But Sloan shook his head again and called her over to him. "Anne,” he said, "you—you’re just crying that’s all. It's more than that; it’s got to be something that'll simply wring their hearts with pity.” He struck his leg sharply with his open hand. "You know w'hat I want, Anne. Now give it to me.” He asked her if she remembered Lillian Gish in "Broken Blossoms.” He mentioned other pictures. And Anne nodded mutely. "11l try," she said. | She went through it again, and I this time Sloan, with a glance at his w'atch and sigh that told of j patience sorely tried, told her to ! forget it until after lunch. He took her to lunch himself, ■ had it brought to them in the cot- | (age that he had on the lot. I Anne told him falteringly, “I'm i sorry I'm so stupid, but I can't seem |to get it.” She began to dab at her ! eyes with her handkerchief. "I'm ! afraid I've let you down terribly.” | “Don't you feel well?” he asked | sharply. Sloan's eyes searched her ! face. “I haven't that excuse.” she replied, and Sloan took her hand. : "I'm not going to give up. Anne. | You've got it and I'm going to have it.” He told her he was going ahead with the afternoon schedule that had been planned. "We'll return to your scene afterward. You're all tightened up; I want you to relax.” And he mentioned something about not wanting to waste any 1 more money. They would work until ! late in the evening if necessary, i Rorimer. returning after lunch, saw Sloan come back alone, and he conferred with the script clerk and then went to Anne's dressing room. The door was open and she was lying down. She said. "Hello. Dan,” in a weary voice, and he saw' that she had been cryng. And instantly he wias hot-eyed with resentment. "Nobody but a chump would browbeat you like ; that." he said. But Anne protested. "You mustn't ; say that. It's my fault entirely, jHe hasn’t browbeaten me. Dan; ' you're quite w rong. He's been very patient.”

DAN went back to his office; Phillips wanted him. When he returned. late in the afternoon, the red light was burning over the stage door and he had to remain outside for a long time. But he saw Lester Moore departing and Moore told him, with a sympathetic smile, that Anne and Sloan were "at it again," When he finally did go in he found Sloan talking to Anne, who sat dejectedly beside him. He heard . Sloan say: "You're having a terrible off day, Anne. Haven't you ever known any real grief in your life? Don't you know what it means to be crazy with it? You’re doing just j what I spoke about last night—you're holding back." She did it again for him. and again. Sloan drove her on implacably. His temper was fraying and his criticism took a sharper! edge. Rorimer got up and wan- ! dered fcff, because he couldn’t stand to watch her. '

—By Williams

I Off in a corner, the set screened from view, he smoked nervously and j wondered w r hy he didn’t go home. Sloan, he knew', didn't w r ant him. for anything. i But he remained because he wanted to know the outcome, and while he sat there he remembered what Collier had told him about Sloan working a star into a fit of hysteria. He thought: "He'll have her ready for a strait-jacket if he doesn’t let up on her.” He looked at his w'atch. It was after 7, and he walked softly back and saw' Anne come dejectedly off | the* set again and Sloan look at her disgustedly. "You’re going to do it right if I i have to keep you here all night,” he said with sudden savagery. "I’m going to get some dinner, and so are you. And then we’re coming back." He looked around him, glaring, and he saw Rorimer and nodded j coldly. He left them to issue an ! order to his assistants. I Dan sat beside her and tried to | give comfort. But there was nothi ing to be said except "Don’t feel j badly, Anne.” She managed to smile and that w'as all. And Rorimer clenched his fists. Slcan reappeared then and Anne got up. "Come on.” he said shortly, i “we’re going to eat. Going to eat, Rorimer?” Dan nodded and they went out, Sloan grumbling on the way that they had wasted a couple of thousand dollars that day. And for the first time Anne replied with some j spirit. She said. “I've done my best, j Mr. Sloan.” J “You haven’t anything of the sort. I You’re exasperating. You know j you've got the stuff. Why in the | devil don't you let go of it?” “Sloan's ■ voice rose until it ■ was almost a ! shout. “Why don't you let yourself j go. in the name of God?” ! It was dark, but Rorimer saw her bite her lip and turn her face aw'ay, | and he knew he no longer could j keep silent. So hq said quietly. | “Wiry rub it in? She told you she ! was doing her best.” i And Sloan turned on him hotly, j “Because.” he said in sudden anger, I“I feel that w'ay. She's acting like a little ham! What's it—” ! “You’re just a big chump,” Dan isad, and swung his fist, CHAPTER FORTY-TWO IT found its mark on Garry Sloan’s nose and the big director ' staggered. And then he came on s like a giant fury, snarling, and in a moment Rorimer w'ent to the pavement beneath a smashing blow, with an agonized cry from Anne Winter ringing in his ears as he fell. He scrambled up again, brushing Anne aside as she sought to interfere. but Sloan was too big for him. The director w'as on him at once, eyes blazing, swinging mighty fists, and one of them connected solidly with D&n's chin and the lights went out. When he opened his eyes again Sloan was bending over him with a worried look on his face. Blood was flowing from his nose. (To be continued)

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR

Ten minutes later the ape-man carrying the outer garments of an Arab bundled beneath an arm rejoined his companions. He exhibited his trophies to them, explaining in low gutturals the details of his exploit. ClnCk and Taglat fingered the fabrics, smelled of them, and, placing them to their ears, tried to listen to them. Then Tarzan led ihem back through the jungle to the trail, wheie the three hid themselves and waited. Nor had they long to wait. ...

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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Soon two of Achmet Zek’s men, clothed in habiliments similar to their master’s, came down the trail on foot, returning to camp. One moment they were laughing and talking together—the next they lay stretched full length, three mighty engines of destruction bending over them. Tarzan removed their outer garments as he had removed those of his first victim, and again ietired with Chulk and Taglat to the greater seclusion of the tree they had at first selected.

—By Martin

Here the ape-man arranged the garments upon his shaggy fellows and himself, until, at a distance it might have appeared that three .white-robed Arabs squatted silently among the forest branches. Until dark they remained there, for from this point of vantage Tarzan could view' the inclosures within the palisade. He marked the position of the hut in which he had first discovered the sqant spoor of the “sift” he sought. Also he located Achmet Zek’s habitation.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Chulk and Taglat were, at first, greatly interested in their wonderful raiment. They regarded each other intently with every mark of satisfaction and pride. Chulk, a humorist in his way, stretched forth a long and hairy arm. and grasping the hood of Taglat s burnoose, pulled it down over the latter's eyes, extinguishing him. snuff-like. The older ape recognized no such thing as humor. He was a born pessimist. lay their paws on me,” he reasoned, “either to search for fleas or to attack.’

PAGE 5

—By Ahern

—By Blosser*

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan