Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 258, Indianapolis, Marion County, 9 March 1931 — Page 9

MARCH 9, 1951.

MAD MARRIAGE-11 fy LAURA LOU BROOKMAN Author of tIEART HUNGRY,‘etc.

BEGIN HIRE TODAY GYPSY Mc.BRIDE. 19-vear-old typUt, gn*t to meet the boat which Is bringing AIiAN CROSBY home from a year and a half of art study in Paris. The couple are not engaged, but there U an understanding between them. On the pier the Kiri sees a beautiful woman whom Crosby identifies as MRS. LANOLEY. a casual ship acquaintance. The couple drive to MRS O'HARE’S rooming house, where a celebration honoring the voung artist Is Interrupted when Crosby maice* a phone call and announces a business engagement. He goes to Mrs. Langley's lavish apartment and agrees to attend a dinner party with her. VOW GO OS WITH THE STORY CHAPTER FIVE GYPSY was delighted. When finally they had reached the place and a waitress had brought them bowls of steaming soup and the rest of the dinner was ordered, Gypsy Mcßride leaned back in her chair and looked across at her companion. Her eyes were shining. “It’s so wonderful to have you here again!” she murmured. “It’s ;o wonderful I can’t believe it’s! ■rue!” One of Crosby’s hands reached 1 across the table and covered Gypsy’s. “You’re a sweet kid!” he said. “We’re going to have some great times together. “Tell you what—tomorrow let’s have dinner down at that Italian j place. You know—Joe’s. Where : the ravioli used to be so good. Shall we?” “I’d love to! Haven’t been there for months, Alan.” Altogether Sunday was a festive day. And the thought of the j evening ahead made Monday at the | office pass in a roseate haze. At 5:30 Gypsy Mcßride slipped her : key into the door of her fourth floor I room. She turned the knob and the door opened. On the floor was a folded sheet of paper. “Sorry, Bambino, that the party’s off,” she read. "I’m tied up for the evening with some of the boys from the office. Hope ybu’ll understand this break in our plans was unavoidable. See you later—Alan.” Gypsy read the note slowly. Then she entered the room, closing the door behind her. “Os course it’s all right,” she told i herself. “Alan has to put business first.” The she remembered how she had let herself become miserable the night that Alan arrived. “I won’t do it again!” she told herself decisively. She dined at a cheap restaurant and boarded a subway for Times Square. At a cut-rate establishment Gypsy bought a balcony ticket for a musical .comedy. Thus it happened that shortly after 11 o’clock she was jostling here way through crowded Forty-fifth street. Suddenly one of those fantastic incidents which happen only in the world’s most crowded city took place. Gypsy turned her head and saw beside her, standing near the curb the woman who had waved at Alan Crosby on the pier. She was wearing white fur and her titian hair shone brilliantly. Beside her, in formal evening clothes, stood Alan Crosby. It was Alan—no doubt about It! He recognized Gypsy at the same moment she saw him. Their eyes met and in that instant Gypsy McBride lost every trace of discretion. She never was to forget what happened. a a a THERE was no time for Crosby to recover his composure. His muttered “Good evening!” was interrupted by Gypsy’s tense,' surprised cry: “Why, Alan Crosby—you told me you were going to work tonight!” Her voice was clearly audible above the street’s noise. It had the dramatic quality which promises excitement. Men and wome nturned to see who was speaking. They looked at Gypsy and at Alan, coloring two shades deeper, and at the tall, slender woman beside him, whose fur wrap and jeweled wrists spoke of wealth and whose lovely features suddenly had acquired a chilling obliviousness to her surroundings. A young girl with black hair cut short like a boy’s and wearing a bright green cloak paused beside Crosby, then burst into shrill soprano laughter. Gypsy was the only one who did not notice the attention she was receiving. The crowd, pressing closer to see what would happen, had pushed her squarely In front of Crosby. Mrs. Langley took the young man’s arm. “Come, Alan,” she said loftily. “This is outrageous!” The words were a command. Mrs. Langley did not look at Gypsy. Her frigid gaze refused to recognize the girl’s presence. Gypsy swept the other woman with a quick glance. She noted the lavish fox collar on the snowy wrap, the dazzling bracelets, the sugges-

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tlon of elegance in the gown be- ( nc-ath the cloak, the perfect titian coiffure. In particular she noticed the gesture with which Mrs. Langley drew her cloak about her as thought to avoid the sordid crowd. Instead of being intimidated, Gypsy Mcßride’s anger flamed. Crosby, though he felt the hand on his arm, seemed about to speak, why Gypsy again interrupted. “I understand a lot of things now!” she snapped, “but, oh, Alan —you might have told the truth! You might have — - From somewhere in the crowd a man’s voice, half-drur.ken p rose above the girl’s. “Oh, oh! Papa’s steppin* out!” the voice cried. Another joined in: “Don’t let him get away with it, baby. Soak him on the jaw!” non EACH sally was followed by guffaws. For the first time Gypsy turned her head. She saw the circle which had gathered about herself, Crosby and the beautiful stranger. Gypsy paled. She saw girls dressed as she was, in cheap dark street clothes; men in soft fedoras and men in gleaming top hats; young women bare-headed wearing rich evening wraps. To Gypsy’s distorted imagination, it seemed that the whole street was gaping at her. Now she knew what she had done. She wanted to run. It was terrifying. At that instant when it seemed the whole world was a sea of eyes, staring at her and escape was impossible Mrs. Langley spoke. She addressed Crosby. “You’d better take your friend home!” she said icily. “Here’s my car. Good night!” She turned and the liveried theater attendant, who had gone from crimson to pale lavender trying to check the commotion, helped her into the motor car which had drawn to the curb. Mrs. Langley’s own fair fingers closed the door with a resounding thwack. Gypsy looked at Crosby. “Here!” he said, slipping a bill into the starter’s hand: “Help me out of this. Get me a cab!” 1 How it could have been done so quickly must remain a mystery. From the honking din of vehicles a taxicab approached. Crosby grabbed the girl’s arm and pushed her forward. “Get in!” he ordered. Gypsy could not have held back even if she had wanted to. She sank into the far comer of the cab, grateful for the darkness. Crosby followed. The door shut after them and the taxi lunged forward. It could not go far. Before and behind them the street was jammed. Now that the center of interest had been removed the crowd on the sidewalk straggled forward again. Mingled with relief was Gypsy Mcßride’s consciousness l of Alan’s anger, of what she had done. He was sitting at the far side of the seat. His eyes were fixed straight ahead; his face was pale. She knew he was furious. Only once before had Gypsy seen him look like that. The time they had been walking on the east side and found a man beating a cringing fox terrier. Alan had interfered and the affair ended in police court. Outstanding in Gypsy’s memory of the episode had rerrihihed the vision of Alan’s blazing dark eyes and white face. Now he was like that again. She was sure he knew that she was watching him, but still he did not speak. Gypsy moved uncomfortably. She stared out the cab window. To regret the incident before the theater was one thing. Repentance was another, and Gypsy’s indignation still blazed. She tapped one foot angrily against the cab door. Why didn’t he explain? Why didn’t he say something- The whole affair was Crosby’s fault. He had deliberately deceived her. Who was that woman—the one he had insisted was a casual friend? Friend indeed! nan THE little foot tapped faster. All right—if Alan wouldn’t speak she’d show him! Gypsy put one stand on the cab door and tried to open it. She wouldn’t ride in his old cab; she’d take the subway. The door opened. Gypsy made a quick movement and felt a vise-like grip on her arm. “You stay in here!” Cro6by commanded. “You stay in this cab!” “I’d like to know why!” “Because you’re going to—that’s why. What do you want to do? Get the riot squad out? I should think you’ve done about enough for one night.”

"You let me alone, Alan Crosby! A fine one you are to tell me what to do. I’ll do as I please!” “Well see about that!” Crosby jammed the door shut again. At the same instant the cab started forward. Gypsy, considering the situation, glared at the young man. Crosby glared back. He was first to speak. "Well—,” he said darkly, “I hope you’re satisfied!” “I hope you are!” “Do you realize that you made yourself ridiculous before a whole street full of strangers? Do you realize what you looked like?” “Do I realize—?” Gypsy demanded. “Did you say ‘do I realize’? I suppose it was all my fault Listen, was I the one who claimed to be spending the evening with the boys at the office? Was I the one who did that? “Why didn’t you tell the truth if you wanted to break a date? Why didn’t you say you were going out with this—this divorcee!” Like flame fanned by the wind the girl’s anger increased with each word. It was the Mcßride temper, quickly roused and as quickly dispelled, which had involved her in difficulties before. “Listen, you leave Mrs. Langley out of this! How am I ever going to be able to explain to her—!” It was the last straw. So it was Mrs. Langley whom he was thinking of! Mrs. Langley to whom he was already trying to frame explanations! Mrs. Langley with her furs and diamonds and motor cars! Gypsy’s fingers clenched into two little fists. “Alan Crosby!” she declared, “I hate you! I never want to see your face again! I tell you I hate you!* It was difference in their temperaments that Gypsy’s temper should blaze high and then dwindle while Crosby, 'slower tb anger, nursed smoldering resentment over long periods. “Don’t worry,” he assured her, “I’ll do all in my power to see that you have your wish.” After that they rode in stony silence. Curiosity prompted the girl once or twice to steal a glance at her companion. Not once did Crosby indicate he knew she was there. a a a WHEN at last they reached the rooming house Gypsy alighted. Without a backward glance she ran up the steps to the entrance. By the time Crosby had paid the driver and received his change the girl had entered the house and was out of sight.

(To Be Continued)

STICKERS

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Answer for Saturday

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TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

Whan Uonn tha . .. _ . .... ...

w nen Manu the monkey awoke, the rosy light of dawn overspread the desolate valley. Just disappearing over the northeast cliffs he saw the false Tarzan’s party. Manu decided to return to Opar. But this was a dangerous proceeding in the light of day, with no shadows to shield him from possible observation. First he would look about. Sheets, the panther, might be prowling around. He went to the kopje’s edge where he could see the whole val’y floor. Amazed, he saw coming from Opart outer wMI a great company of the city’s frightful fighting men.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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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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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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An inkling of the truth flashed into the monkey’s mind. CadJ and people were pursuing Tarzan of the Apes to slay him. He forgave “Tarzan’s” indifference of the night before. All the energy of his loyal brain was focused on the necessity to rescue his friend, strange as that friend’s actions had been. Save him, he must! With the agility of his kind he scampered down the kopje and was off at great speed toward the golden city. ... La, high jjriestess and princess of Opar, in company with several of her priestesses, was bathing in the QPal pool Os OOa Os the tpiTflria ga.rdp.ra>.

—By Ahem

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Suddenly came the screaming of a monkey, swinging frantically by his tail from a branch hanging over the pool. “La!” it screamed, “La! They have gone to kill Tarzan!” At the sound of that name, La was instantly alert and attentive to the chattering voice. Waist deep in the pool, 6he looked up at the little monkey. “What do you mean, Manu?” she asked. “Moons have come and gone since tvst Tarzan was at Opar. You must be wrong.” “I saw him,” Jabbered Manu, ttast night—with many companions. He bjs gone to the northwest,” and 'Mfrini pnintp*! with 8 trembling, hairy finger,

OUT OUR WAY

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OEKi IP IT Does H£S NO SAILOR [H, t+€L WOM'T KMOVJ L “m To V?fey gs^L——- 4lawt^oiw^ - y

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Deep In La’s heart burned the fires of her great love for Tarzan. What if Tarzan was alive? What if Manu was right and the godlike forest man had come again to Opar as he had promised? The thought was like reopening a wound. When the ape-man had not returned to Opar, Las love had become but a sorrowful memory. But now... the high priestess of the Flaming God sprang quickly from the pool. “Who has gone to kill Tarzan of the Apes?” she demanded. “CadJ!” shrieked Manu. “With rxfrny men he follows Tarzan.” La, quickly adjusting her girdle and draperies, sped through the into the t-pr^pi*

PAGE 9

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin