Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 135, Indianapolis, Marion County, 15 October 1930 — Page 8

PAGE 8

OUT OUR WAY

- if\ mom£mts we woouomV uvce To uve. over o.R’.wiu^n.^ — NVQQP SMEO SLUES

BEGIN HERE TODAY Adventure enters the life of CELIA MITCHELL. 17. when she\ learns the father she has supposed dead is alive and wealthy. She leaves her unpretentious home in New York with her father. JOHN MITCHELL, and her aristocratic srrandmother. MARGARET ROGERS, her mother, divorced Mitchell and remarried and is now a widow. BARNEY SHIELDS, young newspaper photographer, is in love with the girl and before leaving Baltimore Celia promised to be loval to his love. She is lonelv in her new home. Mitchell asks EVELYN PARSONS, beautiful widow, to introduce the girl to voung 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 his romantic love making after he ha-, rescued hrr from drowning. LISI DUNCAN, socially prominent, becomes Celia s laval friend. With Mrs. Parsons’ assistant Mitchell arranges an elaborate party in honor of his daughter’s 18th birthday. The party Is a dinner dance Jordan persuades Celia to leave carlv and when she arrive home at 2 a m. her father is furious. Two davs later she goes shopping with her grandmother and is scolded for talking to a shoo employe. Celia declares defiantly that her own mother wonts and working is no disgrace. NOW GO ON WITH THE S^TORY CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE "That's enough!" snapped Mrs. Mitchell. "You are not to be familiar with common working people!’’ The girl's eyes blazed. ‘Don’t you ~sty that!" she cried. "My mother works, and she’s not common!" a a ft MRS. THOMAS WORTHINGTON MITCHELL froze into dignity. If icy stares could have killed the girl beside her would have been a lifeless victim "Hold your tongue!” Mrs. Mitchell shouted. Celia was angry. There were bright red circles in each of her cheeks. Resentment that had been slow-ly gathering now burst forth. "My mother sews for a living!” she exclaimed. “She’s not ashamed of it, and neither am I. She’s the finest person in all the world! You've no right to say things like that about people who work. They're—they're just as good as you are—they're better!” She stopped, flushed, and looked at Mrs. Mitchell. It had been like touching a match to the fuse of a giant, fire cracker. Realization of what, she had done came over the girl gradually. Her face was white with excitement. Celia looked out the window of the car at the street. She could not trust herself to speak. She was surprised that her grandmothe- did not say something. Pride kept, her from turning her head. They rode in silence until they reached Grammercy park. Thompson halted the car and held back the door for them to descend. Celia darted a quick glance at Mrs. Mitchell. Frigid, informal, the white-haired woman stepped to the sidewalk. Not bv the faintest sign did she recognize the girl's presence. Mrs. Mitchell moved majestically up the stairs and into the house. Celia followed. She knew she had done a terrible thing but, stubbornly. was not ashamed. Apologize? Never! Her grandmother was half-way up the staircase when the girl entered the hall. A minute later Celia heard the door of Mrs. Mitchell’s sitting room shut loudly. It was nearly 12 o’clock. Celia Went to her own room and took off her hat. She tried to read, gave up the attempt, and finally went downstairs. Martha was talking over the library telephone. "Is this Dr. Griswold’s office?” the maid asked in her low, even tones. “I’m speaking for Mrs. Mitchell. She wants the doctor to come as soon as posisble. "What? he can't? Oh, yes, he must come right away! Mrs. Mitchell is very sick. You say half an hour? Yes. Very well!” Celia had been listening. Solemneyed. she stepped forward as Martha put down the telephone. "Is grandmother ill?” she asked. "Why. how—” Martha nodded. "The doctor'll be here in half an hour.” she said. "Mrs. Mitchell's had a chill. Excuse me, I must hurry back upstairs.” mum MARTHA disappeared on noiseleas feet. Celia sank into a chair waiting for what might happen next. Throughout the rest of the afternoon she was like a prisoner. Luncheon was announced and she went in to sit down to a dreary, solitary meal. She could not eat the food. After one or two half-hearted efforts, she rose, leaving most of the dishes untouched. There could be only one explanation of her grandmother's illness. * 5

What would John Mitchell say to this? Dr. Griswold arrived. He was a short, rotund individual who came into the house briskly Celia heard Martha conducting him up to Mrs. Mitchell’s bedroom. The girl waited anxiously until footsteps sounded on the stairs. Then she went into the hall. "Doctor ?” she began uncertainly. “Yes. I’m Dr. Griswold. What is it?” His voice had an energetic ring that matched his brisk walk. “I’m Mrs. Mitchell’s granddaughter,” the girl explained. "Is she—very ill?” The doctor tipped his head one side. ’’Nervous relapse," ’he said shortly. "She's subject to them. Treated her for years. She’ll have to have rest, absolute rest. I've left prescriptions and I'll be here again in the morning. Good-day!” Dr. Griswold's straw hat was clapped on his head and in another moment he was gone. A little later Martha came down the stairs again and Celia accosted her. “Martha,” she asked timidly, "do you think I could see my grandmother for just a minute ” "Oh, no, miss! No, I couldn't let you. The doctor said she was to be kept undisturbed! Nobody can go In to see her now!” “But I thought—l mean, I feel T ought to ” Martha shook her head negatively, emphatically. “I couldn’t let you go in, Miss Celia” The girl waited a while, then returned to her own room. She had no place in this house now. She felt like an interloper. For a long while Celia stared out the window. Suddenly she became alert, rose to her feet and set to work. She still was there when John Mitchell knocked on the door at 5 o’clock. Celia hestitated, then opened the door. “How do you do, father. Will you come in?” “Why, Celia—whai are you doing?” She stood before him in the brown silk traveling costume Margaret Rogers had made. A brown felt hat was pulled down over the girl's head. She looked exactly as she had the day they arrived from Baltimore. Spread open on the bed was a half-filled traveling case. “I had to wait to see you,” the girl said slowly. “There isn't quite enough in my purse. I'm afraid I’ll have to ask you to lend me $5. I'll send it back.” “What's this nonsense? Why are you packing that traveling bag?” “I’m going home. Back to my mother.” Mitchell turned and closed the door behind him carefully. “So that’s it,” he said. “What’s the matter? Don’t you like it here? Tired of the" place?” Celia had expected to hear thundering wrath when she confronted her father. She had supposed it would be a good deal like their interview after she arrived home late from the party. This time she was prepared to surrender quickly. “It’s not that,” she answered. “But I’m going. I telephoned about trains and there’s one at 7 o’clock.” "Determined to leave, are you?” a a a THE girl was embarrassed. Was it possible he didn’t understand? She tried to make it plainer. “I can’t stay here,” she insisted. “Grandmother doesn’t want me. Have you seen her? Martha wouldn't let me go in, but I thought probably you could! “I hope she isn't very sick. It was my fault—l know I shouldn’t have said what I did, but I couldn’t help it—” "Celia,” said her father, “I've seen my mother. Will you sit down beside me and tell just what it was that happened? Here, take off that hat.” Mitchell tried clumsily to smooth the girl's curls back. He sat down on the side of the bed and drew her beside him. Celia darted him a quick, suspicious glance. She could not read what was in the man’s mind, but he did not look angry. Her courage rose slightly. “I didn't mean to be rude.” she began. "I said it before I thought, but. oh. don’t you see I couldn't have any one say such things about my mother! Mother’s not common! I couldn’t listen—even to grandmother—and hear a thing like that!” A dark glow spread slowly over the man's

—By Williams

“What was said about your mother?” he asked steadily. Celia was talking excitedly now. She had to make this clear before she went away. ' “We were at Charlotte’s, she explained. “Grandmother w r as having her tea gown fitted, and the fitter dropped a ball of pins. I said ‘let me get it,’ and handed it back. “After we got into the car to come home grandmother said I was never to speak to working people or treat them as equals. She said they were common! That was when I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Why—mother’s a fitter! It just seemed as though grandmother was talking about her. I—l told her she didn’t have any right to say such things—Then I said working people were as good as she was. 'Or better.” The girl looked up, flushed and defiant. She had told the whole story. Now she was ready to go. Mitchell gazed at the floor. “Is thatr—all?” he asked. “Yes. After that grandmother didn’t speak to me. She went to her room and then I heard Martha telephone for the doctor. I—l’m sorry f she’s sick.’ an* 'T'HE man studied. It was several seconds before he spoke. “You see, Celia,” he said slowly, “my mother has some ideas that are —rather old-fashioned. She was trained to believe they were right. She doesn’t realize times are different now. I'm sorry for what has happened. It’s very hard for an old person to understand ” The girl ws amazed. Could it be possible that he was taking her side? “I—l was willing to say I was sorry,” Celia mumbled. “Martha wouldn’t let me.” “That was right,” Mitchell agreed. “You couldn’t mend matters. But, Celia, I know your grandmother didn't honestly mean to say anything to reflect on your mother. She didn’t realize how it would sound to you.” His arm moved around the girl. In an instant Celia hid her face against her father's shoulder. Hot, quick tears came. They sat there until shadows began to darken the room. At last Mitchell said, “Put away these things now. Celia, and dress for dinner. We'll talk later.” The two dined at 7 o’clock. Later Mitchell went to his mother's room. He returned to inform Celia that the "nervous attack” was not serious. Mrs. Mitchell was subject to such illnesses. He believed in a few £ays everything would be all right. The household storm was not calmed so easily. After two days it was decided, on Dr. Griswold's advice, that Mrs. Mitchell should go to her country home in Connecticut. Celia would stay with Evelyn Parsons. It was the widow’s suggestion and solved a problem for Mitchell. The girl herself was pleased. (To Be Continued)

TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR '

“I, Mohammed Beyd, am vour only hope." And with this assertion to provide the captive with food for thought, the Arab spurred forward toward the head of the column, Jane Clayton 'could not know how much of the fellow's words were true; but it had the effect of dampening her hopes. It caused her to review with suspicion every past act of the man upon whom she had been looking as her sole protector in the* midst of a world of enemies and dangers . . . At night her separate tent was pitched between those of Mqjjammed Beyd and Werner.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

I BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

'JaOMCiS AUDSIRtWS ECHO THRUOOT THE CAVE \ (%tHEV HEAR-SHOUTS, RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, ISvIHEU EAATTEMPTS To OVEN A SECRET fi THERE IS HARSUf TIME TO LOOK ABOUND. DOOR. AT IT OPENS. THEN DASH THRU- AUTOMATA ‘ s— Av j

SALESMAN SAM

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MOM’N POP

THE WV-re.-WH'SKEWED VOO OUGHT TO BE. OH, SO VOO ARE Tu\. \ GET A LOAD OP ETTA TOO or THE TO'JE LOVES ) ABIE TO HOLD SPIRIT OP VOUTH WHO 1 ME. BLONDE. *. MAGAZINE SAVS VIIS SHEET J DOWN THKT CHORE- U4s THE APPOINTMENT/ SHIRT INTO M'GH CALLS FOB THE PEP Or / TON'D SURE with Mo MAV/V.ED / AND GUIDE ME INTO VOUTH AND \AM H. /I HAVE TO REWPITE WITH MO. -N "V VJF'OE GOING INTO A J \ EVERVTHING VOU T —i —’ . r^~\- . ..... , i lill | y b \ y

Two sentries guarded her tent and thus it had not been deemed necessary to confine her in bonds. Tonight she sat quietly before it watching the rough activities of the camp. She had eaten the nondescript meal a slave had brought. The gill’s gaze wandered across the trampled jungle clearing, but she no longer saw it. Instead, she visioned a distant bungalow and scenes of happy security which brought to her eyes tears of mingled joy and sorrow, blotting out the quarreling, uncouth men and the squalid surroundings about her. v

—By Martin

SAh'OLD M4HISWEBS.... CUn SUESS MEBB6 Ysc) Savm E N0... UE A PB6CULE PACE MO 1 HERMIT, ga HUH? heje E mau.

She saw a tall, broad-shouldered man riding in from distant fields, she saw herself waiting to greet him with an armful of fresh-cut roses from the bushes that flanked the little rustic gate before her. All this she knew was gone, wiped out by the torches and bullets and hatred of these hideous and degenerate men. With a stifled sob she turned back into the tent and, throwing herself upon her cot, sobbed forth her nuseiy until kindly sleep brought her relieX.

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

While she slept a figure stole from the tent that stooa to the right of her. It approached the sentry before the doorway and whispered a few words in the mans ears. The latter nodded and strode off through the darkness. The figure passed to the rear of Jane Clayton’s tent and spoke again to the sentry there, and this man also left, following in the trail of the first. Then he who had sent them away stole silently to the tent flap, untied it and entered noiselessly within. '•

OCT. 15, 1930

—By Ahern

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Cowan