Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 134, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 October 1930 — Page 11

OCT. 14, 1930.

iOUT OUR WAY

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BEGIN HEBE TODAY Adventure enters the life of CELIA MITCHELL. 17. when she k-erns the father she has supposed dead Is alive end wealthy. She leaves her unpretentious home In Baltimore for a home In New York with her father. JOHN MITCHELL, and her aristocratic grandmother. MARGARET ROGERS. Celia's mother, divorced Mitchell and remarried and now Is a widow. BARNEY SHIELDS, young newspaper photographer, is In love with the girl and before leaving Baltimore Celia promised to be loyal to Ms love. She is lonely In her new home. Mitchell asks EVELYN PARSONS, beautiful widow, to Introduce the girl to young people. Mrs. Parsons considers Celia a means to win Mitchell's affections and agrees. She Invites the girl to her Long Island home for a week-end and there Celia meets TOD JORDAN, fascinating, but of dubious character. Mrs. Parsons encourages the match. Celia treats Jordan coolly at first, but Is won bv hts romantic love-making after he haa rescued her from drowning. LISI DUNCAN, socially prominent, becomes Celia's loyal friend. With Mrs. Parsons’ assistance Mitchell arranges an elaborate party in honor of his daughter’s 18th birthday. The party is a dinner dance. Jordan persuades Celia to leave early. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT Half an hour later the last of the birthday party guests were departing. Mitchell approached Mrs. Parsons, his face anxious. “Where’s Celia?’’ he asked. “I can’t find her.’’ Evelyn's blue eyes widened Innocently. “Why, John—lsn’t she here?’’ a a a CELIA’S heart was pounding as she ran up the steps of the old stone house. It must be very late. Suppose her father was angry, even after Evelyn had explained! She tried to open the door. It would not move. For a minute the girl stood terrified. She had been locked out! Helpless she looked up and down the street. There was none to tell her what to do. But then, how could there be? This was her home. She must find a way to arouse someone Inside. Then she realized that she was acting ridiculously. The bell, of course! She pressed It firmly. Someone was coming. She could hear the footsteps. The lock was turning now. “Celia!" Jshn Mitchell stood in the hallway looking out at her. The girl tried to muster a smile. She held her velvet cloak about her nervously. “I'm sorry, father," she began. “I hope you haven’t worried about me. Mrs. Parsons promised ” “Celia, come inside!” Mitchell's voice was harsh and his manner coldly formal. He stepped aside so the girl could enter. The atmosphere told her at once that something was wrong. Celia hesitated. Her father went ahead into the drawing room, and she followed. “Do you know what time it is?” the man demanded. He was angry. Celia could tell that from the way he walked, the way he snapped the words out. Her eyes darted to the clock on the mantle. Two-thiry-five was what the dial said. “I didn’t know.” she answered. “I didn’t know !t was so late. Didn’t Mrs. Parsons tell you I was coming home?” “Mrs. Parsois? Don’t try to bring her into -his! A nice time for a young lady to be getting home! Celia. I can't understand this. I never expected such a thing could happen. “I thought this evening I was doing something to- please you. Why do you suppose I gave that party at the hotel? And your birthday present—the ring! Is this the way you show gratitude?”

THE girl was almost crying. "But. father.” she begged. ' Won't you listen to me? I didn't mean to be ungrateful! I—oh, I don't know what I can say! Mrs. Parsons said it would be all right. I didn't know you'd feel like this!” “Celia,” Mitchell said sternly, “I warn you not to falsify! Mrs. Parsons had nothing to do with this. I know that very well, and I warn you not to try to deceive me!” “But I'm not! I'm not trying to deceive you. I told Mrs. Parsons I was leaving and she said it would be all right ” “Stop! I’ll not listen to anything of the sort! Will you piease tell me, young lady, where you've been for the last two hours?" Celia was crying now. The dainty handkerchief of chiffon and lace was a limp wad. She tried to brush the tears away, but they would not stop. One velvet cuff was i moist and spotted. I ' Stop crying!" her father insisted, £and tell me where you've been!"

“I—l’m trying to!” Mitchell waited, unmoved by her tears. At last the girl dried her red-rimmed eyes and controlled her voice enough to talk. “I came home with Tod Jordan ” “Who is he?” her father demanded. “He —he was at the party. He’s the one who saved my life at the boat club.” “Humph! What was he doing at this party?” “Mrs. Parsons invited him. I asked her to.” ‘I see. And how does it happen that you came home with this young man and arrived an hour and a half after I got here—after leaving Evelyn Parsons at her apartment?’’ The girl had to wait several seconds, rubbing her eyes and coughing to clear her throat before she could answer. “We went for a little ride—just through the park. I didn’t think it late, and so many people had left the party I thought it would be all right. The others were all dancing ” “So you went for a ride. In the park! Celia Mitchell, I wouldn’t have believed that a daughter of mine could do such a thing. “Here I’ve tried to introduce you to young people of the right sort. I’ve tried to give you everything in the world a girl should have and you—riding with a young man in the park!” He turned his back and walked away as though the thought were too much. Suddenly he circled about. “How much do you know this young man?” he demanded. “Who are his people? What does he do?” Celia admitted between sobs that she did not know. Never in her life had she been so humiliated, so stormed at. There was a great blotchy tear drop soiling the front of her gown now. No one had ever talked to her this way before. “There is one thing you are to understand from now on,” John Mitchell said firmly. “You are not to see this Jordan again! I mean it! A young man who keeps a girl out until this time of night is not the sort for any respectable young woman to associate with!” There was a quick answer on Celia’s tongue, but she checked it. Didn’t her father realize times had changed since his boybood? She thought of the guests at Mrs. Parsons' house party going for a swim at midnight. Her father was so sure everything about Evelyn Parsons was perfect. Celia might have said some of these things, but one glance at John Mitchell warned her argument was useless. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” he asked. “Y-yes, father.” “Then go to your room. It’s nearly morning. If your grandmother should have any idea of what you’ve done tonight I’d hate to picture the consequences! Be quiet as you go up the stairs so not to wake her.”

CELIA went. She was a pitiful little figure as she mounted the stairs. Softly she turned the knob opening the door of her bedroom. Then she closed it and switched on the lights. A sorry replica of herself In damaged finery greeted her from the triple mirrors across the room. The girl went nearer and surveyed herself. Swollen eyes redrimmed. Hair awry. Her cheeks marked by tear stains, and the front of her frock soiled. What a sight! Her beautiful birthday partyeven the memory of the drive with Tod—was ruined now. Celia dropped her coat 6n a chair. Her eyes were smarting and filled with tears so that it was hard to undo the fasteners which held her dress. At last she had it off. She dropped to the bed and let the sobs come. Her shoulders rose and fell convulsively. Finally the tears stopped and she lay quiet. Celia noticed the ring on her finger. She sat up and took the ring off. It brought her misery back with a fresh start. Her father had said that she should never again see Tod. How could she keep such a promise? It did not occur to the girl to blame Jordan for her unhappiness. It did not occur to her to suspect Evelyn Parsons of treachery. Celia rose and dropped the ring in a box on her dressing table. Then she went to the bathroom and

—By Williams

bathed her eyes with cold water. It eased their stinging. Finally the girl turned out the light and crept into bed. She lay in the darkness for several minutes. Then she got up again, snapped on the light and went to her desk, fumbling through a drawer of papers. She found what she sought and returned to bed. An hour later Celia dropped to sleep. Beneath her cheek, damp with tears, was the birthday letter from her mother. She telephoned Evelyn Persons at 10:30 the next morning. Rose said her mistress was having breakfast. “Will you tell her it’s Miss Mitchell calling?” Celia persisted. “Tell her 1 want to speak to her. It’s important.” In a few moments Evelyn’s dulcet tones came back over the wire. “Why, Celia, dear, good morning! How’re you feeling after the party?” Celia swallowed. Then she said: “Good morning! I’m—oh, I’m all right, thank you. Mrs. Parsons, I want to see you. I—l want to talk to you about something. Could I come over right away?” “Why, child—your voice sounds as though something were the matter. Os course, come along!” a a a CELIA stopped just long enough to tell her grandmother she was going to call on Mrs. Parson3, and to wait for Thompson to bring the car around. She reached Evelyn’s fashionable apartment, stepped into the elevator and a minute later Rose was ushering her into Mrs. Parsons’ boudoir. “Darling!” You’ve been crying!” A The older woman’s sympathetic tone broke down barriers of restraint. Celia told her all that had happened. Would Mrs. Parsons tell her how sJie could ever gain her father’s respect again? How could she ever undo this tangle? Evelyn comforted her. She declared that she herself would talk to John Mitchell. Celia was not to worry. Everything would right itself. As for never seeing Tod Jordan again, that was nonsense! She would tell Mitchell what a fire young man Jordan was. The girl returned home, feeling her burdens lightened. When she saw her father that evening he was cordial as usual. Celia began to believe her clouds were banished. And then Friday morning she went again with her grandmother to Charlotte’s shop. Mrs. Mitchell had decided she needed anew tea gown. She stood on the fitting block as a seamstress smoothed down folds of lavender crepe. The seamstress dropped her ball of pins. It rolled within an inch of Celia’s toe. “Let me get it for you!” the girl said. She picked up the object and returned it smiling. Her grandmother stiffened. She made no comment until they were in the car again. Then she said: “Celia, your conduc f -.peaking to that sewing woman Woo outrageous. Don’t you know you can’t treat tradespeople as equals?” “I didn’t—” the girl began. (To Be Continued)

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR

Mohammed Beyd, head of the Arab guard that was riding with Werper, had nursed his hidden infatuation for Lady Greystoke since first the wife of Tarzan had fallen into the hands of Achmet Zek. While this austere chieftain lived, Mohammed Beyd had not even dared hope for a realization of his imaginings Now, though. It was different—Allah was indeed good to him: only a despised dog of a Christian stood between himself and possession of Jane Clayton. How easy it would be to slay the unbeliever and himself hold the woman captive,

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

H(( HOMi THERE’S THREE BUTTONS, t f MOW HOW THE BLAies Do v*l6 ' i KMOViI YIHVCH ONE OPENS THE ) 1 DOOR? S'

SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

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And Werper, he thought, still had the jewels of Opar on his person. With these also in his possession—ah, what joy! Yes, he would kill Werper, retain all the jewels and keep the Englishwoman. With these thoughts in mind he wheeled his horse to the side of the animal on which the captive was mounted. He turned his eyes upon her as she rode along at his side. How beautiful she was. “Do you know,” he asked, leaning toward her, “where this man is taking you?” Jane Clayton nodded afflmatively.

—By Martin

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“And are you willing to become part of a sultan's harem?” he continued. Jane Clayton drew herself up to her full height and turned her head away, but she did not reply. She feared lest her knowledge of the ruse of “M. Frecoult” was playing upon the Arab might cause her to betray herself through an insufficient display of terror and aversion.* “You can escape this fate,” went on the Arab; “Mohammed Beyd will savayou,” and he reached out and siezed her ajgg|

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Jane Clayton wrenched herself from his grasp. “You beast!” she o>“ied. “Leave me or I shall call M. Frecoult.” Mohammed Beyd drew back with a scowl. His sinister lip curled above his flashing teeth. “M. Frecoult?”„ he jeered. “There is no such person. He is a liar, a thief and a murderer. In all the Congo country there is none so vile. He led Achmet Zek to plunder your home. He followed your husband and planned to steal his gold. He has played upon you to win your confidence. Now you are bound lot a sultan’s harem.”

PAGE 11

—By Aherni

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowart