Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 275, Indianapolis, Marion County, 28 March 1931 — Page 5

MARCH 28, 1931 _

m MARRIAGE-11 j bI J LAURA LOU BROOKMAN Author of HEART HUNGRY,'etc.

QYPSV MCBRIDE 19-vear-oid typist io * New York office, meet* .JIM WALLACE at the home of her wealthy cousin. ANNE TROWBRIDGE. Ovp*v is miserable hecsute she ha* learned ALAN CROSBY, back from a rear and a half in Paris studvir.z art, no lor.rer cares for her. Wallace tells Gvdsv that he has been Jilted fcv hts ffancee. To spite the girl ha car's for. he asks Gvdsv to marry him. Thev are married next mornine and depart for Forest City, his home •own. At Jim's home they are erected bv his aunt. MISS ELLEN WALLACE, who Immediate)-/ becomes hostile to the eir. After a few davs Miss Wallace moves to a '•oitaze down the street. She ararnzes a family, dinner party at which Gvdsv meets the other relatives MRS. SOPHRONIA NICHOLSON who is im's aunt, and LUCIA WALLACE, his •'•u;r>. sr.ub Gvdsv w vile another cousin \BBIE MANLEY. Is friendly. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO The temperature of the room eemed to have dropped. "You’re a stranger in Forest City, i underfand?’’ Mrs. Nicholson said. “I—well, I was. I’m beginning t,o feel acquainted now." a a a THE older woman's brows rose. She was about to speak when ome one touched Gypsy’s arm. “I’m Abbie Manley,” said the newcomer. 'One of the new cousins. Charles and 1 have been trying get over to see you ever since we heard you'd arrived but I’ve had a • ouch of the grip. We're going to :’ome soon, though.” We’d love to have you,’’ Gypsy answered. "Come any time.” Abbie Manley’s brown hair was beginning to show touches of gray. She was slightly taller than Gypsy and heavier. Her plain face was frank and friendly. She had taken the girls hand and was still holding it. "You’re a pretty girl,” Abbie went on. "I hope \ vou're going to be happy here. Jim ' turning to the young man) "let : .ne congratulate you.” "Thanks, Abbie. Isn’t Charles here?" " I think he’s telephoning." As spoke a slim, middle-aged man in gray appeared in the doorway. Oh. there you are!” Abbie exclaimed. “Come meet the bride, j Charles.”

Manley exchanged greetings with s he others and shook hands with Gypsy. Aunt Ellen again took ommand of the group and was bustling about for chairs when a shrill voice from a corner piped up: ‘ Mother—aren’t we going to be introduced, too?” Gypsy turned. She had not noticed the two children on the sofa against the wall. There was a boy who looked about 12. He wore hornrimmed glasses and his shoulders ."ere bent over a book. Beside him sat a girl probably two years older. It was the girl who had spoken. ‘Come here, children,” said Lucia Wallace. The pair stood up, the boy still clinging to his book. tt tt tt rHE children came forward dutifully. The girl had light hair hanging in too-tight ringlets. She looked like her mother, but instead of being slender she was squarely built and chubby. Her name was Lucia Elizabeth. I’m pleased to meet you,” simpered the child in a manner that evidently had been rehearsed. Junior, the boy, put forward one hand and mumbled something inaudible. "What have you been reading?” Gypsy asked. Kidnaped!” Junior answered. Without another word he faced about and returned to the sofa. Gypsy smiled down at the littlegirl. She was wondering how to begin a conversation, when Lucia Elizabeth solved the problem. ‘•You're our aunt what?” she asked. “Aunt what?” “Well—this is Aunt Ellen and thats Aunt Abbie. You're our aunt what?” "Oh. I see!” Gypsy spoke, enlightened. “My name is Gypsy. Aunt Gypsy, T guess.” Lucia Elizabeth stared at her, then began to laugh. “What a funny name,” she exclaimed. “Aunt Gvpsy—isn’t that funny?” “Lucia Elizabeth!” her mother said severely. “Where are your manners? It’s not a funny name. Ts only seems so!” “But it is funny!” the child protested loudly. “It isn't a name at <ll Why, gypsies are funny old dirty people. T saw some last summer. They tell fortunes and steal babies ” “That will do!” Lucia Wallace’s oice was stern. Her daughter looked down sullenly, then sank to the edge of a chair. tt tt a BY this time Gypsy’s cheeks were flushing. Charles Manley spoke ' o her and she turned toward him

* 36 *

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with evident relief He placed a | chair for her and she sat down. Gypsy felt she should address her hostess. "The house looks lovely," she said to Miss Wallace. "I don’t see how you managed to get everything settled so quickly.” Aunt Ellen was sitting erect in her favorite high-backed chair. "I shall be comfortable here,” she said. ‘ Os course, after being accustomed to a big house, it’s quite a change. ’ She interjected a sigh. "But I’ll get used to It." "Aren’t you going to show us the place?" Jim asked. “I’ll show you,” Abbie Manley volunteered. "I’ve just been through it myself. You and Gypsy come with me—" Aunt Ellen held up one hand. "I think a little later, Abbie," she said, but Mrs. Manley was on her feet. ‘We’ll have time,” Abbie Insisted. "Come on, Gypsy. There’s a lovely view from the bedroom window and the kitchen is wonderful.” Jim leaned back. “You two go along,” he said. "Ben’s telling me how to get rich quick.” Gypsy and Mrs. Manley stepped into the hall. There were six rooms in the cottage, but they were large. The central hallway <counted as a room) divided the living room from the dining room. Back of the living room was Miss Wallace’s bedroom and at the , ; tack of the house was a room JT the maid. The pantry and ’ jqp were on the other side. Abbie led the w?‘ glinting out the attractive feat Jr They came to the kitchen last. * Abbie drew back the door and they were greeted by the inviting odors of cooking food. "Hello, Harriet," called Gypsy from the doorway.

THE cook turned and her face lighted. “Howdo, Mis’ Wallace,” she answered. She put down the potato masher, which she had been wielding vigorously. ‘lt’s good to see you here.” “My—what a fine kitchen you have,” Gypsy said smiling “Everything’s so fresh and white I guess it’s a pleasure to work in such a place. We miss you, Harriet. Say, something certainly does smell good!” “There isn’t a better cook in Forest City than Harriet,” Abbie Manley put in. Harriet’s face showed that she was pleased. She began beating the potatoes again. Gypsy glanced over her shoulder. Miss Wallace had come up behind them. “Well, really !” Ellen Wallace’s tone was exasperated, “if there’s to be any dinner in this house tonight I’m afraid Harriet will have to be allowed to get it on the table. It’s nearly 7 o’clock, Abbie. Don’t you think you two had better go back to the living room?” Miss Wallace soared into the kitchen. Gypsy and her companion fled. “Never mind Aunt Ellen,” Abbie whispered into the girl’s ear. “She’s on her high horse tonight. It doesn’t mean a thing.” Fifteen minutes later they were ushered into the dining room. Gypsy and Jim were given places of honor at Aunt Ellen’s right. Ben Wallace sat next to Gypsy and directly opposite was Lucia, his wife. Mrs. Nicholson sat in state at the foot of the table. tt B tt HARRIET served the soup. It was an elaborate five-course dinner and the food was delicious, but Gypsy had no appetite. Whenever she looked up Lucia Wallace’s small dark eyes were watching her belligerently. Jim made several attempts at general conversation, but gave up the effort. Junior squirmed in his chair and was scolded for refusing to eat his spinach. Sophronia Nicholson made use of the opportunity to deliver a lecture on how grateful small boys should be for a good home and plenty of nourishing food. There were other little boys in the world, she assured Junior, who would be glad to eat spinach. Sph: - ach would make him a strong, big man. Somehow (as Jim had predicted> this led to launching forth on the harships Uncle Ezra endured at Andersonville. “Your great Uncle Ezra was a great man," she concluded, eyeing Junior. By some chance her glancefell upon Gypsy. “Did your ancestors take part in the war?” she

asked. "I mean of course the Civil war?" "I don’t think my relatives were in this country then," Gypsy told her. All other conversation suddenly died. Out of the silence Mrs. Nicholson spoke again. "And from what country, may I ask, did they come?” The woman leaned forward waiting for Gypsy’s answer. "From Ireland ” “Ireland!” It was Lucia who spoke with a slightly rising inflection. "My grandfather sailed from Belfast when he was 12 years old,” the giri replied steadily. "Father used to write to his cousins there. Some of them still are living in Belfast.” lUCIA’S flutteringOh!” was a j gasp Out of the deadening | stillness Jim came to his wife’s deI sense. "The Irish make good fghters, ; Aunt Sophronia,” he said. “You’ll have to admit that. There were probably a lot of them at Andersonville along with Uncle Ezra.” Lucia Wallace exchanged glances with Mrs. Nicholson. “Os course Forest City is a quiet place,” she i spoke in her most elegant, aristocratic voice. "Our life is very j simple here, but if you’d like we ■ might make up a foursome for golf ! some afternoon. I play at the Glendale club.” "I’m sorry.” Gypsy answered. "I don’t play golf.” "Really?" “Well, we’ll teach you.” Ben Wallace said heartily. "Can’t hit a bail myself, but I’m a great teacher. Jim here knows that ” But perhaps—er—Gypsy may prefer some other sport,” his wife suggested. Gypsy shook her head, "I’m not good at any sports,’ ’she said. “I’ve always been too busy.” Sophronia Nicholson cleared her voice. "You—had other interests?” she asked. The air seemed charged. Gypsy had endured suggestions of superiority as long as she could. Reaction was inevitable and it cam* with a flash. "Yes,” she said bitterly, "I had other interests—pounding a typewriter eignt hours a day to earn a living. Trying to pay for board and room on S3O a week. That’s how Ive spent my time!” E U en Wallace dropped a fork ! ‘Do you mean to say—!” she began j but Jim Wallace interrupted. He i was on his feet. "I’ve had about enough of this,” he said.

/"\NCE before Gypsy had seen Jim W Wallace angry, but that had been nothing like the white-faced fury with which he turned on the group at the table. “I’ll tell you what I think of you!” he cried, “i think you’re a bunch of snooping, small-minded snobs. Do you hear that? Trying to stir up trouble, that’s what vou’re doing! “Well, it won’t work and you might as well know it here and now. What right have you to'look down on a person who works for a living? What right have you to think you’re better than anybody else? "I’m ashamed of you. Gypsy and I can get along without you all right. We’ll do it, too—” “Now wait a minute!” Ben Wallace’s tone was conciliatory. “You don’t mean all you’re saying, Jim.” “Ben. you keep out of this!” Lucia Wallace delivered the command to her husband sharply. Before she could say more" Jim had turned toward Gypsy. “Come on.” he said. “W'e’re going home.” Ellen Wallace’s face slowly had congealed as her nephew spoke. Now her cheeks were scarlet. “I never thought I’d live to see the day my own brother’s son could talk to me this way!” she exclaimed. “I’d never have believed it possible!” “And I wouldn’t have believed you’d invite guests to your house to sneer and make fun of someone, Aunt Ellen,” Jim shot back. “Well, go ahead. You can talk to your heart’s content now, only we won’t be here to listen!” Harriet, coming from the kitchen, heard the last words and dropped a teacup. There was the sound of crashing china. Jim put his hand on Gypsy’s arm and led her from the room. There was a moment's dalay in the hall for wraps and then they were out of the house. The fresh air was comforting against Gypsy’s smarting cheeks. It was a ccol and invigorating breeze with a faint hint of spring in it. Twilight had turned into evening and pale stars glimmered in the cloudless sky. Tire street was verv still. Neither spoke. The sound of their footsteps was exaggerated by the silence. Gypsy cast a quick, sidelong glance at Jim. (To Be Continued)

Stickers will be found on Page 10

TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

Ts tnrtl* fVse ATT nti 1.. J

It took the Waziri but a short time to load themselves with the golden ingots. Before the askari had completely recovered from the surprise of the attack, they had again disappeared into the jungle with the man they supposed was Tarzan, their master. Late in the afternoon, Flora Hawkes, the three white men and a small party of the black hunters returned successful and in gay mood from their search for game. As they came in sight of camp they saw the askari running excitedly toward them. “What the devil is this? ’ cried Peebles. ‘What’s wrong with the beggar^?’’

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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1

“Tarzan of the Apes has been here!” they jabbered. “With all his Waziri—a thousand,of them. They have taken away the gold!” Flora sought out the leader. “Tell me slowly and carefully all that has happened since we left,” she ordered. She listened closely, questioning him often. When the tale was done she turned hopelessly to her confederates. "It is all too clear to me,” she said. “Tarzan recovered from the drug we gave him. Then he followed us with his W'aziri, caught Esteban, killed him, located our camp and got the gold. That’s that, and we’re lucky if we get out of Africa .with whole skins!” \

—By Ahern

(p,H , Hers Mtls. TSHT, ' gotcha"l knobs’ now mind what t ffippat ' toloTa and oon’t ed

A long time the three men and the woman discussed their situation. Flora laughed to scorn the suggestion they follow the supposed Tarzan and recapture the gold. “Not a chance in the world. You don’t know him as I do!” But something MUST be done. Perhaps even now the dreaded ape-man was watching them Until this Kraski, buried in thought, had said little. Now he looked up, grim determination on his face. “We have lost the gold,” he said, “and the expedition seems a total washout. What we’ve lost, we’ve lost. You can do as you like—but I’ll not go back to England emptyhanded!”

OUT OUR WAY"

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

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"There are other things in Opar besides gold,” he continued, and then unfolded his plan. “I have learned this crazy language and talked with our blacks. They tell me there’s a bunch of Arabs down here stealing slaves and ivory. Only a few of them and their slaves would turn on them with our help. Here’s mv idea. Our party is still strong enough to overpower them. Lets get their ivory by getting their slaves to help, promising them their freedom. What do you say?” “It sounds good to me,” said Peebles, "I ain’t fer going ’ome empty anded.” The others— even Flora— agreed that ivory almost as good as Opar’s gold.

PAGE 5

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin