Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 197, Indianapolis, Marion County, 26 December 1930 — Page 13

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BEGIN HERE TODAY IU ANITA SELIM 1* murdered at fcridee. SujDic.on rest- on LYDIA \ CARR. the maid FLORA MILES In Nita a closet at the lime of the murder ;rad i e a rtr'e ‘he thinks is from her husband, but which Is from DEXTER SPRAGUE, probabiv Nita's lover and nartner in blackmail; and on RALPH HAMMOND, engaged to Nita. All but Flora oracticaliv are cleared Lvdla savs she doesn't know whom Nila feared, and Mils of a bell SDrague contrived near Nita's bed which rings In Lydia s room, and of which others may i:now. Acting on a hint from Lydia. DUNDEE find' at the Selim house. In th guert closet, a secret shelf. Investigating the *IO.OOO Nita received, rrobablv as blackmail. Dundee, asks PENNY CRAIN, former society girl, now the district attorney's secretary, if anv of the girls in her set were .n a scandal at the Forsythe School, where Nita directed the Easter Dla-- Bhe assures him none was. but he Is not convinced. Dundee drives out, to find out from I OIS DUNLAP why Nlt.a cam* to Hamilton. and learns that she came only after 'ccing nholographs of the crowd as Fhev appeared In "The B-ecars' Opera.” / NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE “r HAD to hunt Quite a bit for 1 them,” Lois Dunlap apologized she resumed her seat at the tea •able and spread the glossy prints half a dozen large photographs |:or Dundee's inspection. “Do you * - now ‘The Beggars’ Opera’?” ' John Gay—eighteenth century, ..sn’t it? . . . As I remember It, it is quite—-” and Dundee hesitated, grinning. Bawdy?” Lois laughed. “Oh, eryl We couldn’t have got away rtth ' if it hadn’t been a classic. •. was, we had to tone down >rne of the naughtiest passages and songs. But it was lots of fun. and the v :i enjoyed it hugely because it gave them an opportunity to wear tight satin breeches and lace ruffles. “This is my husband, Peter. He adored being the highwayman, ■Robin of Bagshot’,” and she pointed out a stocky, belligerent-looking man near the end of the long row of costumed players, in the photograph which showed the entire least. “You say that Mrs. Selim accepted your proposal that the came io Hamilton to organize a Little theater, after she saw' these photographs?” Dundee asked. “Had she before?” “Yes. Id gone to New York for the annnal Easter play W’hich the Forsyte school puts on, because I’m intensely interested in semi-profes-sional theatricals,” Lois explained. Nita had done a splendid job with the play this years and I spoke to her after it was over. “She was not at all interested then, but polite about it, so I invited her to have lunch with me the next day, and showed her these photographs, in the hope that they would make her take the idea more seriously. “We had borrowed a Little theater director from Chicago, and I knew we had done a really good job of ‘The Beggars’ Opera.’ The local reviews—” “These ‘stills’ look extremely professional. I don’t wonder that they interested Nita,” Dundee cut in. “Will you tell me what she said?” “She rather startled me,” Lois Dunlap confessed. “I first showed her this picture of the whole cast, and as I w r as explaining the play a t bit—she didnt know ‘The Beggar’s Opera’—she almost snatched the photograph out of my hands. “As she studied it, her lovely bla*fc eyes grew perfectly enormous. I’ve never seen her so excited since—” “What did she say?” Dundee interrupted tensely. st tt a “•i xrHY, she said nothing Just at W first, then she began to laugh in the queerest way—almost hysterically. I asked her why she was laughing—T was a little huffy, I’m afraid—and she said the men looked so adorably conceited and funny.' “Then she began to ask the names of the players. I told her that MacheatlV—he’s the highwayman hero, you know —w'as played by Clive Hammond: that my Peter was ‘Robin of Bagshot,’ that Johnny Drake was another highwayman. Mat of the Mint,’ that Tracey Miles played the jailor, ’Lockit’ ” “Did she show more interest in on* man than another?” “Yes, When I pointed out Judge Marshall as ‘Peachum.’ the fence, she cried out suddenly: ‘Why, I a know him! I met him once on a party. ... Is he really a judge?’ and she laughed as if she knew something very funny about Hugo —as no doubt she did. “He was an inveterate ‘lady killer’ before his marriage, as you may have heard.” “Do you think her first excitement was over seeing Judge Marshall among the player’s pictures?” asked.

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“No.” Lois answered, after considering a moment. “I’m sure she didn’t notice him until I pointed him out. The face in this group that seemed to interest her most was Flora Miles. Flora played the part of ‘Lucy Lockit,’ the jailer’s daughter, and Karen Marshall the other feminine lead, ‘Polly Peachum,’ you know. But it was Flora's picture she lingered over, so I showed her this picture,” and Lois Dunlap reached for the portrait of Flora Miles, unexpectedly beautiful in the eighteen century costumetight bodice and billowing skirts. “She questioned you about Mrs. Miles?” Dundee asked. “Yes. All sorts of questions—her name, and whether she was married and then who her husband was, and if she had had stage experience,” Lois answered conscientiously. “She explained her interest by saying Flora looked more like a professional actress than any of the others, and that should give her a real chance when we got our Little Theater going. “I asked her then if that meant she was going to accept my offer, and she said she might, but that she would have to talk if over w'ith a friend first. Just before midnight she telephoned me at my hotel that she had decided to accept the job.” Dundee’s heart leaped. It was very easy to guess who that “friend” was! But lie controlled his excitement, asked his next question casually : “Did she show particular interest in any other player?” “Yes. She asked a number of questions about Polly Beale, and seemed incredulous when I told her that Polly and Clive were engaged. “Polly played Mrs. Peachum. and was a riot in the part. . . . But Nita’s intuition w'as correct. Flora carried off the acting honors. . . . Oh, yes, she also asked, quite naively, if all my friends were rich, too. and could help support a Little Theater. I reassured her on that point.” e s b “ \ ND,” Dundee reflected silently, l\ “upon a point much more important to Nita Selim.” Aloud he said: “I don’t see you among the cast.” “Oh. I haven’t a grain of talent,” Lois Dunlap laughed. “I can’t act for 2 cents—can I, Peter darling? . , . Here’s the redoubtable ‘Robin of Bagshot’ in person, Mr. Dundee —my husband!” 'The detective rose to shake hands with the man he had been too’absorbed to see or hear approaching. “You’re the man from the district attorney’s office?” Peter Dunlap scowled, his hand barely touching Dundee’s. “I suppose you’re trying to get at the bottom of the mystery of why my wife brought that Selim woman ” “Don’t call her ‘that Selim woman,’ Peter!” LOis Dunlap interrupted with more sharpness than Dundee ever had seen her display before.. “You never liked the poor girl, never were just to her ” “Well, it looks as if my hunch was correct, doesn't it? the i stocky, rugged-faced, man retorted, j ‘‘l told you at the beginning to pay her off and send her back to New 1 York—” “You knew I couldn't do that, even to please you, dear,” Lois said. “But please don’t let’s quarrel about poor Nita again. She’s dead now, and I want to do anything I can to help bring her murderer to justice.” “There’s nothing you can do, Lois, and I hope Mr —ah —Dundee will not find it necessary to quiz you again.” Dundee reached for his hat. “I hope so, too, Mr. Dunlap. ... By the way, you are president of the Chamber of Commerce, aren’t you?” “Yes, I am! And we re having a meeting tonight, at which that Sprague man's bid on making a historical movie of Hamilton will be turned down—unanimously. “Now that the Selim woman isn’t here to vamp my fellow-members into doing anything she wants, I think I can safely promise you that Dexter Sprague will have no further business in Hamilton—unless it is police business.” “Thanks for the tip, Mr. Dunlap,” Dundee said evenly. “I hope you enjoyed your fishing trip. Where do you fish, sir?” “A tactful way of asking for my alibi, ah?” Dunlap was heavily sarcastic. “I left Friday afternoon for my own camp in the mountains, up in the northeast part of the state. I drove my own car, went alone, spent the week-end alone, and got back this noon. “I read of the murder in a paper

I picked up in a village on my way home. I didn’t like Nita Selim and I don’t give a damn about her being murdered, except that my wife's name is in all the papers. . . . Any questions?” “None, thanks!” Dundee answered curtly, then turned to Lois Dunlap who was watchyvg the two men with troubled, gray eyes. “I am very grateful to you, Mrs. Dunlap, for your kindness.” The detective's angry resentment of Peter Dunlap’s attitude lasted until he was the road into Hamilton. Then common sense intervened. Dunlap was undoubtedlydevoted to his wife. Penny had said that he “never looked at another woman.” It was rather more than natural that he should be in a futile, blustering rage at the outcome of her friendship for the little Broadway dancer. . ~ 808 of anger, his mind reverted A to the story Lois Dunlap had told him. For in it, he was sure, was hidden the key to the mystery of Nita Selim’s murder. Not at all interested in the proposition to organize a Little theater in Hamilton, Nita had been seized with a strange excitement as soon as she was shown photographs of a large group of Hamilton’s richest inhabitants. . . . But there was the rub! A large group! Would that group of possible suspects never narrow down to one? Os course, there was Judge Marshall, but if Lois Dunlap’s memory was to be trusted Nita had not noticed the elderly Beau Brummel’s picture until after that strange, hysterical excitement had taken possession of her. And if it had been Judge Marshall whom she had come to Hamilton to blackmail, would Nita not have guarded her tongue before Lois? The same was true about her unusual interest in Flora Miles. . . . Dundee tried to put himself in Nita’s place, confronted suddenly with a group picture containing the likeness of a person—man or woman—against whom she knew something so dreadful and so secret that her silence would be worth thousands of dollars. Would he have chattered of that very person? No! Os any one else but that particular person! It was easy to picture Nita, her head whirling with possibilities, hitting upon the most conspicuous player in the group—dark, tense, theatrical Flora, already pointed out to her ms one of the two female leads in the opera. . . . But of whom had she really been thinking? Again a blank wall! For in that group photograph had appeared every man, woman and girl who had been Nita's guest on the day of her murder. Dundee, paying more attention to his driving, now that he was in the business section of the city, saw ahead of him the second-rate hotel where Dexter Sprague had been living since Nita had wired him to join her in Hamilton. On a sudden impulse the detective parked his car in front of the hotel and five minutes later was knocking upon Sprague's door. “Well, why do you want now?” the unshaven, pallid man demanded ungraciously. Dundee stepped into the room and closed the door. “I want you to tell me the name of the man Nita Selim came here to blackmail, Sprague.” “Blackmail?” Sprague echoed. .his pallid cheeks going more yellow. “You’re crazy! Nita came here to take a job ” “She came here to blackmail someone, and I am convinced that she sent for you to act as a partner in her scheme. . . .No, wait! I’m convinced, I tell you,” Dundee assured him grimly. “But I’ll make a trade with srou,5 r ou, in behalf of the district attorney. Tell me the name of the person she blackmailed and I will promise you immunity from prosecution as her accomplice.” “Get out of my room!” and Dexter Sprague’s right forefinger trembled violently as it pointed toward the door in a melodramatic gesture. “Very well. Sprague,” Dundee said. “But let me give you a friendly warning. Don’t try to carry on the good work. | “Nita got SIO,OOO, but she also got a bullet through her heart. And the gun which fired that bullet is safely back in the hands of the killer. “You’re not going to get that movie job, and I was just afraid you might be tempted! . . . Good afternoon!” (To Be Continued) Mother First Ry Times Special SHELBYVILLE. Ind.. Dec. 26. Mrs. Callie Thrasher, seeking a divorce from Edward Thrasher, alleges he told her his mother needed him more than his wife. They were married four years ago.

•Sticklers’ Will Be Found on Page 16 Today

TARZAN AND THE LOST EMPIRE

The last day of the games had CQme. For the last time the inmates of the cell were taken to the inclosure near the entrance to the arena. Maximus Praeclarus alone was left behind. "Good-bye.” he said. ‘‘Those of you who survive the day will be free. May the gods give strength and sitijj to your arms.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

TvtE AMERICANS.' OF THEIR. MIRACULOUS^ VL/VJAS. IUNEUWOW, MAMN YTRANGt PEOPLE HAME TAVieM To = yjjii W ' 1 fPME night Tae Police discover. MA.U TCVING TO GET INTO ' - j TuEVP- ROOMS, BUT PE GETS AWW j THEV can ARREST hiM.

SALESMAN SAM

WCReVA AR.e , SOM ROM Al-OMG- VOIThA (TeAH , CAY BOY TUST OOT MIR •Ho & CrTwe' (V Hope. “THAT erPLAINS VMY TH’ HCCK OiDM'TCHA. youß. ec\“CHeß.'s pipe, amo -rotiJAcco < mr-hovioy- vhth t’ tobacco— \pr£ au_ out of eveß^<TH^MCr'cAß.^ooG• , wrap *TU’ stuff up im (AND ILL RINCr HIM UPTo AP°LO&iZ£ L . WHAZ-RA CAATTeR-IS YER. _) WRAPPING- PAPER v J * TODAY'S NEVJSPP°eR FOR. Trte LOOKS OF THIS PACKAGE Sloke. &OIN' ON TH’ RocKS?/TusT NOW AMO I —> t —— S—. vißAppeo The srtbee // —■' \ 7/ // and i— < \\\UFIM A News PAPER. I // / NOT" BY A r // f 7 Y Do YOUR. \\ ' / \ L.ONQ- SWOT/T V ‘U if ' ’ ' “ £ ‘ T - y / | , I /

BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

|j OOTQAGtOoe OQOANQfcRHOG* tlMt AMD E jri \U-ObTBvOUO

From within the inclcsure, where they were conducted, Tarzan and his companion could hear the sounds of combat and the shouts of the audience, they could not see the arena. Sometimes two men, sometimes four, sometimes six would go out together. But only oqe, two three ever returned.

—By Ahern

The afternoon grew late. Metellus had fought with a gladiator, both in full armor. Hasta and Tarzan had heard the excited cries of the populace. There was an instant of silence and then shrieks of “Habet! Habet!” It is over,” whisHasta. ‘‘Caecilius Metellus was my best friend^’

OUT OUR WAY

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WELCOME fjp 1 'JO CAUT l - ( i/*Mt an If J? I oasv;TA 8£ v ,oujust wgfi uS. PT pry CVS3O BY WE* SCBYICt tXC \

THE AMERICANS ARE BECOMING A BIT itTIUT THE PRESIDENT BEGS FOR MORE ; LuJihORRIEP OVER COSTA GRANDE'S DELAY in RAISING UJ-IiME. v ( IhE. OOP FOR. THEIR. INVENTION. ! WAN MORE HiEEK, SEWOR., ( IT'S GETTIN \ mML SPIES AND ASSASSINS I 1 fjp MnwT p/lt T

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Cassius paced nervously to and fro while Tarzan stood with folded arms watching the door. After a while it opened and Metellus crossed the threshold. Cassius uttered a glad cry of relief and rushed forward to embrace him Just then the door swung open and an official entered. "Come out, all of you,” he said. "It la the last event.”

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By BloF-ser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin