Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 118, Indianapolis, Marion County, 25 September 1930 — Page 8

PAGE 8

OUT OUR WAY

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BEGIN HEBE TODAY CELIA ROGERS. Just out of high school, suddenly learns that the father she has believed dead is living and a wealthy New York lawyer. The revelation Is made when JOHN MITCHELL, the father, calls at the humble apartment in Baltimore where Celia lives with her mother. MARGARET ROGERS. Margaret tells the girls for the first time that Celia is the daughter of a first marriage. Margaret and John Mitchell were and.. freed. The second husband, 808 ROGERS, has been dead lor rears. Mrs. Rogers and Celia have no income but the mother's earnings as a seamstress, though Celia has secured a position as stenographer. BARNEY SHIELDS, young newspaper photographer, is in love with the girl. Mitchell pronoses to take Celia to New York and oilers to shower her with luxuries. She refuses, but Mrs. Rogers, knownlng she herself is faced with serious illness and loss of work, persuades Celia to accent. Celia and Shields spend one last evening together and she promises to wait for the dav thev can be married. The next afternoon Celia and her father denart for New York, and though Shields has promised to see them off. he does not appear. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

CHAPTER TWELVE CELIA sat primly in her parlor car seat and watched the passing landscape. Mitchell, beside her, rustled the newspaper he was reading. The girl stole a quick glance at him, then turned back to her window. Green fields. Rows and rows of fence posts. Here and there a farm house. Cattle grazing in pastures. She saw these things through blurred eyes. Why had Barney Shields not come to the station to say goodby? As long as her eyes were on the flying countryside she could rack her brain for answers and nurse her wounded feelings. •‘Would you like something to read?’* John Mitchell asked. “No, thank you." “H’m!” She was to become familiar with that monosyllable reply, but it held no meaning then. Mitchell folded his own newspaper and laid it beside him. He took a watch from his waistcoat, snapped back the lid and looked at it. “In three hours,” he said, “we’ll be in New York. H’m! Celia felt that she should say something, but her lips would not move. Two large red circles were burning in her cheeks. “You've never seen New York?” he continued. “No. I’ve no idea what it’s like. Tall buildings, I suppose, and noise and everything hurrying. That’s the way I’ve pictured it. Is it like that? Mitchell nodded gravely. "Yes—at least part of it. You'll find it fairly quiet in my mother’s home.’’ Celia could tldhk of no suitable reply and remained quiet. Her heart was beating rapidly. •Jt’s an old section of the city,” Mitchell went on. “Gramercy Park. Lived there when I was a boy, but there’ve been many changes. Not many of the old houses left.” He seemed to forget the girl, losing himself in memories. Celia studied her father's face. a b a IN a way Mitchell v.as good looking. There was nothing at all about the man to remind her of herself. Celia thought he had the coldest, most impersonal expression she ever had seen. “Mother doesn’t hear very well,” he was saying. “You will have to speak rather loud to make her understand.” “Will I see her this evening?” “Oh, yes! Certainly. She’s been spending the summer in town. Generally goes up in New England, but this year—at least for a time—she's decided to stay in the city.” Celia's misgivings increased. She had noj the prospect of acquiring a grandmother. Grandmothers. as she pictured them, should be old ladies dressed in lavender with little caps of lace on their heads and spectacles on their noses. She thought of such a grandmother sitting in & rocking chair and knitting. “Os course she'll see that you meet young people,” Mitchell said, ’ as though he had read the girl's thoughts. There was a pause and the man returned to his newspaper. Celia glanced timidly about the car. She hoped no one would guess that it was her first trip in a parlor car. She eyed the other travelers curiously. A girl about her own age sat a few seats distant. She had black hair, combed away from her face, and very red lips. She wore a black dress. A young man sat beside the girl and the two were in gales of laughter. “He isn’t as go6d looking as Barney,” Celia thought to herself. The thought brought a stab of pain. She turned back to her window and

tried to remember all the things Barney had said the night before. The sun was directly in the west now. A white-clad colored man came through the car, announcing that dinner was served. A man and two women arose and followed him. Mitchell asked Ceclia if she would like to dine. She said she was not hungry. The little watch on the girl’s wrist told her that it was 6 o’clock. Her mother would be getting her evening meal. What was she cooking? It made Celia sad to think of her mother alone at the table where the two of them had always sat. She wondered how Mrs. Rogers would spend the evening. A little later Mitchell led the way to the dining car. Celia was impressed by the array of silver and linen and the heavy trays the waiters bore so easily. She could not conceal her wonder at this traveling restaurant. Her father ordered. He was in- : sistent in directing that the steak I should not be over-done and that | the cheese must be well ripened. n a o EVERYWHERE Mitchell seemed to receive the same prompt defj erence Celia j ad. It made him ; more awe-inspujig than before. She had little to say as the meal I was served. Her father ate heartily. | After one or two attempts at conj versation he devoted himself to the 'food. Shadows lengthened on the coun- | tryside as the train sped by. When I they had finished eating and were back in the parlor car dusk had fal- ; len. There was nothing to be seen ! outside the windows now. Celia seI lected a magazine and tried to eni tertain herself. j She w'as surprised when Mitchell 1 touched her arm. “Almost there,” he said. “Are you ready?” ! “You mean we re in New York?” “No, no! Have to cross the river ! yet. This is Jersey City. We ! change to the bus here.” Some of the women in the car were putting on coats and hats. Celia took the tiny vanity case from I her purse, patted her nose with | powder and pulled on her gloves, i The conductor’s shout rang through the car. “All out!” The girl scrambled to her feet, ! followed closely behind her father j in the press toward the doc,, of the ! car, then across the pavement to : the long line of waiting motor i coaches. ; “This our bus?” “Yes, sir. Twenty-third street!” the uniformed attendant answered. Mitchell helped Celia into the ! coach. “Short ride now,” he said. “Be ! home in half an hour.” She watched with wide eyes as ! the coach w’as driven on the ferry j boat. Suddenly before her loomed | the horizon of New York. "Over there!” her father nodded. “That's the city.” Celia leaned forward and studied the panorama. Towers, spires, and squat lower outlines darkly visible against the graying sk>, Flashes of gold glinting from myriads of windows. The dark, wide expanse of water between. Brightly lit river craft drifting by, signaling one another by moaning whistles. “New York!” Celia breathed the words softly. The ferry was moving now’. “Like to get outside and look around?” Mitchell asked. She said that she would. Others in the coach were leaving to find places for themselves against the boat’s rail. The wind whipped against the girl's cheeks and unconsciously she braced herself. Mitchell named some of the more impressive buildings as they passed. Celia barely heard his voice. She was lost in the majesty of the metropolis. Its hugeness was challenging, mysterious, stirring. * * LATER when they left the motor coach for a taxicab and went whirling through crowded streets tliis spirit of adventure departed. New York close at hand seemed to look like any other city. She was surprised when the cab halted. “Here we are.” said Mitchell. Celia stepped to the pavement and looked up at the old-fashioned building clearly, but it was impressive in spite of taller dwellings on either side. Slowly she climbed the steps after her father. The front door opened.

—By Williams

letting out a blinding flood of electricity. “All right, Edward. Take these bags, will you?” Mitchell was speaking to the servant who had opened the door. He dismissed the taxi driver and followed Celia into the hallway. “Mrs. Mitchell is in the drawing room, sir,” the gray-haired Edward said, pausing with the traveling cases in his arms. “Weil go right in” Mitchell nodded toward Celia. She led the way into a vast, gleaming room. The girl on the threshold caught a swift vision of crystal lights, mirrored mantlepiece, ornate furniture and maroon hangings. She stood quite still. “Well, mother, we’re here!” A tall woman dressed in black silk rose from a chair across the room. She had white hair, combed back from her forehead and arranged in a twist on top of her head. She was a large woman, stiffly erect and with an air of tremendous dignity. She did not smile, but her gaze shifted immediately from the man to Celia. “So this is the child!” The elderly woman’s voice was sharp, high-pitched. “Come nearer” she went on, and there was no doubt that she addressed Celia. Hesitantly the girl moved forward. “Yes. this is Celia,” John Mitchell said. “Celia—your grandmother.” Celia put out her hand. “How do you do?” she said in a voice that trembled. For a full second she felt Mrs. Thomas Worthington Mitchell’s scrutin \ Then the proffered hand was accepted. “How do you do?” Mrs. Mitchell said, in the same sharp voice. “I hope you’ll like your new home. Don’t see that you look much like the Mitchells ” The butler’s appearance in the hall doorway interrupted her words. “Well, Edward?” Mrs. Mitchell asked. “Excuse me, ma'am. There’s someone on the telephone asking for Mr. Mitchell. They said it’s important.” iTo Be Continued) StaflMl Chosen Editor Bu Times Svecial ANDERSON, Ind., Sept. 25. Harry McGoon, local student at De Pauw university, has been elected editor of the De Pauw Magazine, a monthly publication dealing with the outstanding literary work at the university. Bankers Will Meet By Times Svecial ANDERSON, Ind., Sept. 25. Bankers of Madison county are here todaj in quarterly session. A golf touurnament at Grandview Club, the municipal course, will be followed by a dinner. A. T. Dye of this city, is president. Woman, 96, Dies Bu Times Svecial MARKLEVILLE, Ind., Sept. 25. Mrs. Mary E. Greenlee, 96, died at the home of a daughter, Mrs. R. A. Mauzy. She was a pioneer resident of Madison county.

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR

Beneath Tarzan. as unconscious of his presence as were the Abyssinians before and behind him, rode Albert Werper, while the ape-man scrutinized the Belgian for some signs of the jewels of Opar. As the Abyssinians rode toward the south, a giant figure hovered over their trail—a huge almost naked white man, who carried the carcass of a deer upon his broad shoulders, for Tarzan knew that he might not have another chance to hunt if he were following the Belgian.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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

To endeavor to snatch Werper from the midst of armed horsemen, not even Tarzan would attempt. So the Abyssinians and the Belgian rode on and always Tarzan of the Apes swung silently through the swaying branches of the middle terrace. A two day’s journey brought them to a level plain beyond which lay mountains—a plain which Tarzan remembered and which aroused within hia vague half memories and strange longings.

T —By Martin

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Out upon the plain the horsemen rode, and at a safe distance behind them crept the apeman, taking advantage of such cover as the ground afforded. Beside a charred pile of timbers the Abyssinians halted, and Tarzan, sneaking close and concealing himself in the shrubbery, watched them. He saw them digging in the earth. Then he recalled how he had buried his pretty pebbles and the suggestion that had caused him to do.it. They were digging for the things the black had hurried here!

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Presently he saw them uncover a dirty, yellow object and he witnessed the joy of Werper and of Abdul Mourak as the grimy object was exposed to view. One by one they unearthed similar pieces, until a pile of them lay upon the ground, a pile which Abdul Mourak fondled and petted in an ecstasy of greed. Something stirred in the ape-man’s mind as he looked long upon the golden ingots. Where had he seen such before? What were they? Why did these white apes want*hem and whose were they?

SEPT. 25,1930

—By Ahem

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan