Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 119, Indianapolis, Marion County, 26 September 1930 — Page 24

PAGE 24

OUT OUR WAY

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BEGIN HERE TODAY ' CELIA MITCHELL. 17, learns sudden- i ly that the father she has supposed to I he dead Is living She finds this out 1 n-hen JOHN MITCHELL, wealthy New York lawyer, calls at the humble apartment in Baltimore where Celia and her mother live Celia's mother is MARGARET ROGERS. divorced from Mitchell when Celia was an infant and later married to 808 ROGERS who is dead. Mrs. Rogers and Celia have no income but the mother's earnings as a seamstress. Mitchell proposes to take Celia to New York, offering her a life of wealth and social position. She refuses, but Mrs Rogers, knowing that she herself is faced with serious illness and loss of work, persuades Celia to accept. BARNEY SHIELDS, voung newspaper photographer, is in love with Celia and the girl promises to wait tintll they can be married. Though he agreed to come to the train to say farewell. Shields does not do so Celia and her father arrive in New York 'and are greeted by the girl's aristocratic grandmother. A telephone message comes for Mitchell. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTEEN MITCHELL, grumbling at the annoyance, strode out of the room, following the servant. Evidently the interruption irritated his mother. The elderly woman tapped her chair nervously with the old-fashtonad fan In her hand and frowned as she watched him go. Then she turned to Celia. "So you're Celia!" Mrs. Thomas ; Worthington Mitchell repeated. “Wouldn t. have known you! No—there's not much look of the Mitchells about you. Like your mother, I suppose Humph!’’ The exclamation came explo- j sively. There was an instant's pause ! and then Mrs. Mitchell added: "You may kiss me, child!" It was an ultimatum. If Celia had not been tired and a little frightened, she surely would have smiled. Her grandmother’s shoulders were squared back rigidly. She was as imbending as an officer on! military parade. Not a trace of af- ! section showed in the autocratic face. ' • j Celia did not smile. She came forward timidly, hesitated and then placed a quick, darting kiss somewhere between her grandmother’s ear and chin. Evidently the proprieties had been observed to Mrs. Mitchell's satisfaction. She sat back in her chair, motioning Celia to take a smaller one nearby. The elderly woman continued to scrutinize the girl and Celia's cheeks were crimson. “I'm glad to find you well.” Celia volunteered—and immediately felt this attempt at conversation had been unfortunate. ■‘Humph!" her grandmother said stiffly, "never sick! I was a. Reynolds, my dear, and the Reynoldses are hardy stock. Not like these nervous fluttering budgets who spend half their time carrying on at parties and the other half in sanitariums. No. indeed!" The elderly woman fanned herself violently. Just then John Mitchell reappeared. "Anything wrong, John?" Mrs. Mitchell asked. “No,” the man said. "Business call ” He said it as though the subject of his telephone message was not. to be discussed. Celia’s tired, mother. Better be getting some sleep, don't you think so?” Mrs. Mitchell nodded. “Ring for Martha," she said. a a a MITCHELL rang the bell and as if automatically, a small dark-haired woman in maid's uniform stood in the doorway. "What, is it, ma'am?” “Show Miss Celia to her room." Mrs Mitchell directed. “Did Edward take the bags up?” "Yes. ma'am. Just follow me, miss." The good nights were said hastily and without further show of affection Celia followed the maid into the hallway and up the stairs. She noted the dark, rich pile of the carpets they crossed Not a sound of their footfalls could be heard The second floor of the house was divided by a broad corridor with doors opening off either side. Half way down the corridor Martha paused, pushing open a door. Her fingers touched an electric switch and the chamber was illuminated. Then she stood back, waiting for Celia to enter. The girl crossed the threshold and stood still. The room was furnished in an old-fashioned style, but to Celia it was the most beautiful bedroom she had. ever seen There was a high ceiling, spacious wadis and four windows with pale, green taffeta draperies What held Celia's attention, though, w-as a small walnut bed iilh counterpane of coral silk. The

glow from a bed lamp reflected on this coverlet, brightening the whole room. At the opposite wall was a dressing table with triple mirrors in which the girl could see her reflection from where she stood. There were green taffeta skirts about the dressing table and an elaborate and colorful outlay of silver and glass accessories waiting to be used. A chaise lounge covered with printed chintz, an assortment of comfortable-looking chairs and a' small desk completed the furnishigs. Small rugs lay on the glistening, polished surface of the floor. Martha had slipped into the room behind the girl. She crossed the floor, opening a door which led to a coral-tiled bathroom. The maid busied herself arranging towels. Then from somewhere she brought a ruffled chiffon negligee which she laid on the bed with a silken gown. “Can I take your things, miss?” Martha stood ready to take Celia’s hat and handbag. “Oh—yes, thank you!” Still uncertainly glancing about her. Celia moved toward the center of the room. She went to the door of the bathroom and surveyed its gleaming tiles with frank delight. Then she came back and stood before the coral bed. a a a THE maid was still waiting. She seemed a trifle ill at ease. “Shall I draw your bath, miss?" Celia smiled. “Don’t bother.” she said, “I—l can manage everything myself, I’m sure.” Still Martha remained. Celia drew off her jacket and at once the maid took it. The girl realized, watching Martha hang the jacket away, that the older woman was waiting to assist her in undressing. ! It was disconcerting. “Really, I don't need you, Marthat," she said hesitantly. “I'm used to doing things for myself.” For a moment Martha's eyes were lowered. Then she looked up and Celia, reading some indefinite meaning in that glance, suddenly felt that she and this quiet, middle-aged woman were to be friends. “Very well, miss,” Martha said, “if i you're sure ” Celia laughed. “Yes. I'm quite sure,” she said. Martha's hand was on the doorknob. She turned and looked back over her shoulder. “Good night, miss,” she said softly. “Good night, Martha,” Celia answered, and the door closed. Swiftly the girl slipped out of her clothing. She filled the coral tub with warm water, stepped in and splashed about contenedly, all the while admiring the luxury of the handsome bathroom. The delicately scented soaps and bath powder were a novelty. Wrapped in a huge towel Celia ! came pattering back into the bedI room. She looked down at the negI ligee and nightgown which had : been laid out for her. Damp tenj drils of chestnut hair, curled tight by the steam, clung to her flushed ! cheeks. Celia looked at the silken garments again, then crossed the room to where her brown traveling bag stood. Reaching into the leather bag she drew out a little white | nightgown made by her mother's ' own stitches. It went over her head. Five minutes later Celia was in | bed. Her head scarcely had touched I the pillow before she was asleep. Morning came with a distinct surprise. Celia stretched, rolled over lazily and wondered what time it was get- ! ting to be. Late, probably. One eyelid opened, then blinked shut. The eyelid opened wider. In an j instant Celia was sitting up in bed, j staring about her. She could not imagine where she was. 808 YELLOW sunlight was streaming through the green silk curtains. Suddenly the whole thing came back to her, and presently there came a light tap at the door. “Who is it?” the girl called out “Breakfast, Miss Celia.” The door opened slowly and a maid whim Celia had not seen before appeared, bearing a tray. “I hope I didn’t disturb you, miss, - ' the maid said: “but Mrs. Mitchell ordered breakfast sent up to you.” “It’s all right ’’ Celia reassured her. "Come in ’ Here was anew situation The slim young ms id who carried the breakfast tray was attractive. Her burnished copper hair was pulled , back primly urder a ruffled linen I cap and, she wore a demure gray frock and apron.

—By Williams

She looked no older than Celia, but she knew exactly what to do. That was more than the girl in bed could boast. Deftly the maid set the tray down, picked up the negligee that was thrown over a chair. “Will you want this, miss?” “No,” said Celia, “I don’t believe j I do. My! It’s warm this morning.” “Yes, miss.” Conversation did not seem to be a part of this young servant’s duties. She drew back the window curtains so that a cool breeze floated into the room. Then she was back at the bedside, arranging the tray. Grapefruit, buttered toast, crisp, twisted bits of bacon and jam were revealed on exquisite, fragile dishes. “My! How good it looks!” There was no response from the maid. Celia thought this queer, and then blushed, wondering what error she had made. But there were things which she wanted to know. “Have my father and grandmother had breakfast?” she asked “Yes. Mr. Mitchell always leaves the house at 9 o’clock. Mrs Mitchell was . served some time ago.” “Oh—then I must be terribly; late! I’m sorry! Tell grandmother j I’ll be right down.’ ’ “Yes, miss. Is there anything j else?” Celia said there was not, and the servant departed. The hands of the small clock on the beside table pointed to 9:30 o’clock. Though the breakfast before her w'as excellent, Celia was in too great haste to enjoy it. When she had finished eating she dressed swiftly. It seemed to the girl a tremendous disgrace to be the last one of the household to appear on her first morning in the new home. What would her formidable grandmother have to say to this late appearance? Celia crossed the broad hall and looked into the draw'ing room. No one w-as in sight there. She glanced through two other doors. Then she heard a voice and followed it. In a room lined with book shelves she found Martha arranging a bowl of dahlias. “Good morning,” the girl said brightly. “Where will I find my grandmother?” I “Good morning. Miss Celia. Mrs. j Mitchell is in her room, but she said she wasn’t to be disturbed. “Oh—!” Celia withdrew. For two lonely | hours she tried to amuse herself. Most of the time she spent before a window facing on the park. There would have been plenty to interest the girl if she had not been so ill at ease, Celia was dreadfully, dreadfully homesick. She did not hear Martha’s footsteps, but she turned quickly when she heard her words: “Miss Celia,” the servant was saying, “Mrs. Mitchell's sent for you.” (To Be Continued! Wife, 16, Asks Divorce LADOGA. Ind., Sept. 25.—Mrs. Hazel Parris, 16, is seeking a divorce from Leo Parris. She charges cruel and inhuman treatment and failure to provide. The couple was married in February, 1929.

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR

' _ ’ _ „., •* -UH '.- ■- -

Tarzan recalled the black men who had buried them. These things must be theirs! Werper was stealing them, as he had stolen Tarzan’s pouch of pebbles. The ape-man's eyes blazed in anger. He would like tc find those black men and lead them against these thieves. He wandered where their village may be. As all these things ran through the ape-man's brain, a party of men moved out of the forest at the edge of tip plain and advanced toward the ruins oi the burned bungalow.

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

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Abdul Mourak, always watchful, was the first to see them, but already they were halfway across the open. He called to his men to mount and hold themselves in readiness, for in the heart, of Africa who may know whether a strange host is friend or foe? Werper, swinging into his saddle, fastened his eyes upon the newcomers, then, white and trembling, he turned toward Abdul Mourak. “It is Achmet Zek and his raiders!” he whispers®. “They also have come for Opars gold I”

—By Martin

Achmet Zek had already seen the party beside the ruins of the Englishman's bungalow. Also, he had seen the pile of ingots. That which he had feared had happened. Someone had tricked him—another had come for the treasure ahead of him. The Arab was crazed with rage Everything recently had gone against him. He had lost the jewels, the Belgian, and for the second time he had lost the English woman. Now someone hajj come to rob him of this treasure he had thought so safely hidden.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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By Edgar Rice Burroughs

He cared not who the thieves may be. Thev would not give, up the gold without a. battle, of ♦hat he was certain, and with a wild whoop and a command to his followers, Achmet Zek put spins to his horse and dashed upon the Abyssinians. And after him, waving their guns above their heads, came his motely horde of cutthroats. Abdul Mourak s men met them with a volley that emptied a few saddles, and then the raiders were among them, sword, pistol and muskets doing indeo us work.

SEPT. 26, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser:

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan