Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 284, Indianapolis, Marion County, 8 April 1931 — Page 11

APRIL 8, 1931

MAD MARRIAG&i Ay LAURA LOU BROOKMAN Author of HEART tiUNOßY'etc.

BEGIN HERE TODAY OYPSY M'BRIDE, 19-year-old typlJt In a New York office, marries JIM WALLACE the day after she meet* him • t the home of her wealthy cousin. ANNE TROWBRIDGE Oyp e v has been Jilted by ALAN CROSBY back from a year and a half in Paris, and Wallace’s fiancee has Just broken tbir engaeement. There Is no romance in the union Wallace Is a youtij? lawyer. Thev go to his home In Forest City where his relfitives 'nub Gypsy. Jim undertake the defense of NINA ROBERTS, accused of murdering her employer. DR FOWLER. The case is sensational, with circumstantial evidence strongiv against the girl and Gypsy becomes. deeply intfre'led. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY Mrs. Fowler shock her head. Her voice was still muffled. “He hit Bobby!” she said. He was jealous of him. And now Eobby’s going to die to punish me! Oh. I’ve been nearly crazy! Bobby isn't going to get well. He’s going to die because I’ve been a wicked weman! I didn't mean to do it, I tell you. I swear I didn't! Oh. Bobby. Bobby! Oh. what will I do?” a a a “If USH—you’ll disturb the boy!” IT Gypsy ordered. Mrs. Fowler w,-r weeping hysterically. There was fjo time tp lose. ’’Bobby isn’t going to die,” the girl went on. “Don't you see if you tell the truth things will be all right? Listen, I have a cab waiting outside. Get your coat and hat and I’ll take you nght aewn But I can’t go. I can’t leave Bobby!” the woman protested. "Do you want him to die? Do yo:i want him to die because you let them punish Nina Roberts for what you did?” It was all logical, but it was effective. Almost before Mrs. Fowler knew what she w r as doing Gypsy had ber in the taxicab. Throughout the ride the woman kept her eyes covered with a handkerchief. She wept spasmodically. Gypsy was excited. Overhand over she repeated instructions. Mrs. Fowler was to go to the little room at the right of the entrance and speak to the bailiff. She must say she had an important message for Mr. Wallace. Very important! After Jim appeared she must talk to him privately and tell him it was 6he who had killed her husband. Jim \yould know what to do next. When the cab stopped Gypsy pulled the other woman’s hat down to hide her face. There was little likelihood that Mrs. Fowler would be recognized. "I can't come with you,” Gypsy said, “but I’ll be praying for Bobby. Goodby!”

She told the driver to wait until the black-coated figure had disappeared through the entrance to the courthouse. Then they drove hack to the Wallace home. tt a a VX/'HEN she entered the house ▼ V Ctyp.-y was amazed to find it I was only 10:30 There were letters 1 on the table in the hall. She ! glanced through them. Nothing in- j teresting. She tried to busy herself at half a dozen tasks and gave up each one in disgust. Only one thing occupied her mind. What was happening in the courtroom? There were moments when she wondered if Mrs. Fowler’s nerve had failed her. Had she been able to reach Jim? “I should have stayed down town.” Gypsy thought. “There might be extras on the street. No —it’s better for me to be home!” So long as she was alone, she could not keep her mind off the trial. She went upstairs and changed to a house dress, then descended to the kitchen. Matilda was putting clean paper on the shelves of the cupboard for canned supplies. “Matilda,” Gypsy asked, “how do you make cookies?" The cook looked around from her perch on the top of the stepladder. “Haven't you ever baked cookies?” 6he asked incredulously. “No. but I’m going to. I’m going to make some now.” “But Mis’ Wallace, Friday’s the baking day. If I’d known you wanted cookies I’d have made them early ” “I’m glad you didn’t,” Gypsy interrupted. “I don’t want you to to make them myself.” make the cookies, Matilda. I want a tx tt THE cook looked dubious. “What kind of cookies were you going to make?” “I don’t know. Molasses cookies, I guess. No, ginger. We’ve got some ginger, haven’t we?” “Yes, Mis’ Wallace.” “Where's the cook book?” “There’s some books up there on

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l the shelf in the cabinet, but if you want the kind of ginger cookies I make I never use a recipe.’' “Well, then, you can tell to put in.” Gypsy lifted down a large yellow mixing bowl and hunted through a drawer for spoons. Matilda’s gaze was disapproving. This was certainly an unaccustomed procedure. “I can stir up a batch in no | time,” she suggested. “I can make j ’em right after lunch. ” J Gypsy shook her head. “TTiey may be terrible cookies,’ ’she said, ' but I’m going to make them myself. Now what’s the first thing I put into this bowl?” For a half-hdur she stirred and mixed dough and rolled it into thin sheets to be cut in discs. Matilda was at her elbow, prompting, suggesting. but Gypsy refused assistance. When the first tin of cookies went into the oven the girl stepped ; back with a sigh. “What time is it?” she asked. It was 11:30. Time enough "or Jim to have telephoned if there ; were any news. Surely there should > have been word by this time. Gypsy went to the door and i propped it open so they could hear more clearly if the telephone rang. There was another tray of cookies ito be filled. Presently the air W's i filled with pungent, spicy odor. “Want me to look at ’em?” MaI tilda asked. “Cookies burn awful i easy.” nun GYPSY drew down the oven door. The cookies had puffed up and | some of them had ran together. She turned the blaze lower and returned to the mixing board. Soon the first tin was out and the second baking. “They’re good,” Matilda admitted grudgingly. Gypsy munched a warm cookie and nodded, satisfied. ‘You’ll have to write down the recipe for me,” she told the cook. “Where’d you learn how to make them?” Matilda raised her hands in a gesture of mock despair. “How should I know? Ginger cookies—l’ve always made them the same way. German girls learn how to cook when they’re young. One of seven, I was. I used to help my mother with the baking when I was 10 years old.”

“Where did you live when you were a girl?” Gypsy asked. “Minnesota. I’ve got two brothers there still.” It was not the occasion for Gypsy to be interested in Matilda’s relatives. As soon as the last tin of cookies was out of the oven she left the kitchen. Gypsy went into the living room and gazed dejectedly out at the street. Suddenly she heard an unfamiliar noise. She ran to the front door and out on the porch. Far in the distance she heard a boy shouting, “Extra—Extra!” She could not see the newsboy, but the voice came from the right. Gypsy started down the steps, but then the telephone rang shrilly. She turned out before she was inside the house Matilda was calling- “ Telephone, Mis’ Wallace!” a a tt “'\7'ES, Jim, what is it?” Gypsy X asked impatiently. She held the telephone receiver tightly against her ear, but the voice across the wire was jumbled and indistinct. “What is it? I can’t hear you!” There was a pause. “Hear me better now?” Jim asked. “Yes.” “Mrs. Fowler’s confessed." “What?” “I said Mrs. Fowler’s confessed she killed her husband. Came down here this morning and told me the whole story. She says she did it to save her boy’s life. The woman’s a complete wreck.” “But what about Nina?” “She’s acquitted. That’s what I called you about. Would it be all right to send her out to the house? I don’t want the reporters to get another chance at her and if she goes to that place where she roomed that’s what will happen.” “Why, of course. Where is she now?” “Here in my office. If you think it’s all right. I’ll bring her out.” “Bring her,” Gypsy said. “Lunch will be ready when you get here.” She left the - telephone for a hasty consultation with the cook. Gypsy was upstairs putting on fresh linen in the guest room when she heard the front door open. She hurried down. Nina Roberts was sitting in the big chair in the living room. Jim

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turned as Gypsy entered. “Well,” he said, grinning, “we won!” “Oh, I'm so glad! I was so worried until you telephoned. Nina—isn’t it wonderful?” The girl had been crying. She touched her handkerchief to her eyes. “It’s fine of you to let me come here, Mrs. Wallace,” she said. “Why, we’re glad to have you. Os course! Would you like to go upstairs now’ or shall we have lunch first?” “I—l think I’d like to go upstairs.” Gypsy led the way. The guest room was not large, but it had abundant sunshine. The walls were green and cream colored and the taffeta drapes were apricot. “The bath is through here,” Gypsy said, opening a door. “I hope you’ll find everything to make you comfortable. “There’s powde.- here and cold cream if you want it. “I’ll leave you now, if you don't mind. I’m dying to have Jim tell me everything that happened.” Nina stood in the middle of the room, looking about. She seemed bewildered. At the door Gypsy hesitated. “Luncheon will be ready whenever you come down,” she said. Then she went out and hurried down the stairs. non JIM was not in the living room. She glanced into the library and saw him standing with his back toward her. “Oh, Jim,” the girl began as she went toward him. “Tell me what happened. It must have been terribly exciting! I want to know all about it!” Jim swung around. “Exciting!” he exclaimed. “It was the most incredible thing I ever saw In my life! Bennet was just about to begin summing up the case. “I didn’t want to leave the courtroom. The message they handed me said a woman was waiting and that she had something important to tell me. “I thought It was a mistake and then—well, it was the merest luck in the world that I went to see her. When I saw her face of course I knew who It was. Lord—what a morning!” “But what did she tell you?” “Well, for a v/hile it didn’t sound believable, but it must be true. The woman was in torment. At first she was so incoherent I couldn’t make heads or tails of what she said. “Kept begging rtie to help her and said she did it for Bobby’s sake. Then she grew a little quieter and I got the story. Mrs. Fowler says she came to her husband’s office shortly before 6 o’clock. She had the boy with her. “She opened the door and went in. There was no one there except Fowler. It seems they’d been quarreling for weeks about the child. When Fowler saw the boy he was angry. He’d told her that morning she had to send Bobby away. (To Be Continued)

STKKEP.S I Can you draw this figure with four continuous lines, all of the same length, and never cross a line? g Answer for Yesterday .£ 1 A A 12 3 4 5 Five - !2-inch candles may he manipulated to serve the three lodgers for six nights, without any waste left over. With Gabriel burning 5 inches each night, Turner 3 inches and Smith 2 incites, they burned the numbered candles as follow: First night—Gabriel, 1; Turner, 2; Smith, 3. Second night— Gabriel, 4; Turner, 2; Smith, I. Third night—Gabriel, 5; Turner, 2: Smith, I. Fourth night—Gabnel,-.3; Turner. I; Smith, 5. Fifth night—Gabnel, 5; Turner, 3; Smith, 4. ■ Sixth night—-Gabriel, 4; Turner, 2; Smith, 3.

TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

“Why do you offer to aid me?” asked Tarzan. "I do not know. The Bolgani sent me,” replied the black. ‘‘Answer me,” and the towering ape-man glowered fiercely upon the trembling creature, “where did they command you to lead me?” “Into a chamber,” whispered the black, “the door of which will be immediately bolted. I shall be a prisoner with you. Then we are to die.” A moment the ape-man contemplated him before he said: “If you lead me into a trap I will kill you. But if you lead me to fh.e woman, perhaps we shall all escape win you do*"

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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The choice offered him slowly filtered through the stupid black’s brain. At last he answered: “I will lead you to the woman.” “Lead on then,” said Tarzan, “and I will follow you.” As they went through a maze of corridors and rooms the ape-man wondered how the Bolgani had learned of his presence in the tower. He was forced to the conclusion that the old man had betrayed him. Finally they stopped before an entrance and the black gently separated the heavy curtains. “She is in •there,” he said. “Is she alone?” asked Tarzan. “No,” relied the black* “lookl”

—By Ahern

Seizing the black by the wrist, that he might not escape, Tarzan stepped forward and looked. What he beheld was the strangest scene of all the weird ones he had beheld in this uncanny palace. Before him lay a large chamber, at one end of which was a raised dais of richly carved wood. The central figure upon this dais was a huge lion —the same one that Tarzen had seen escorted through the palace gardens. His golden chains were now fastened to the floor. Upon each side stood four blacks in statuesque rigidity. On goklen thrones behind the lion sat three Bolgani.'

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The chamber was lighted by hundreds of cressets burning a substance that gave forth the heavy fragrance which had assailed Tarzan's nostrils since first he entered the domain of the Bolgani. Upon either side- £ a central aisle were carved benches facing the dais. On these sat some fifty Bolgani. Among them Tarzan saw the old man of the tower. Tarzan felt sure now that he was the cause of his betrayal. But what riveted the ape-mans attention was something else! At the foot of the stairs, between two Gonaangani guards, stood LA, High Priesteaa oj Opart

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—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin