Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 289, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 April 1931 — Page 8

PAGE 8

bl j LAURA LOU BROOKMAN Author oftlEAßf tIUNORYMc.

BEGIN HERE TODAY GYPSY McBRTDP 19-vfir-old V . l2Z\tEl U & mlrris JIM WALLACE the Sjy meet * t the home of BP.IDoi hy CoUßln - TROV7hn Jilted by ALAN CROPBY. Just returned from a year and f. /* etudrin* art. and WalJaw § nanwc had broken their cneasrement to marry a wealthier man. *nd Qvpsy *ot to Forest City, where Jim has a thriving law practice. ?]* r ** l ve*. particularly AUNT ELLEN: who has kept house for him. are hostile to Ovpir The 7 snub her. F ei V. mo ,y*® t 0 a cottage of her own. Alan Crosby writes to Ovpay. but •he returns the lett-r unopened: MARS'™ CORING. Jim-'former fiancee, marries BROCK PHILLIPS, millionaire's son. hfonths pass and news comes that Brock Phillips has been killed in a fall xrom a horse. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY Chapter Thirty-four (Continued) “Everybody in town seems to be here.’ Ellen Wallace spoke up. “They ought to make a lot tor the hospital. Marcia didn't want to come, but I said it's time she was getting out and seeing people. ' Better tor her. She's used to such an active life it’s not right to stay cooped up in the house all the time.” Abbie nodded her head in agreement. “How long are you going to be in Forest City?” she asked Marcia. ' “Oh, I really don’t know. Through the summer at least.” Marcia's voice had a drawling quality. “Aunt Ellen's been so sweet to me—you know I’ve always called her tnat. “She says that now she’s in her own home she likes company. Os course I know Ini a frightful nuisance—” “Nothing of the sort!" Ellen Wallace insisted. “She’s going to stay with me Just as long as I can persuade her t.o. Her mother's in Italy, you know, y/'e’re going to keep Marcia here as long as she’ll stay.” “That’s fine. I’ll drop in some afternoon soon. Aunt Ellen. Well, we’ve Just some, so I suppose we should be moving along. I want to buy one of those lovely garden oaskets. Come to see me, won’t you?” tt tt ABBIE and Gypsy moved on toward the booth where the baskets were for sale. “Well!” said Abbie when they had gone some distance, “for a young widow Marcia doesn't look to me to be exactly heart broken.” The same thought had flashed through Gypsy’s mind, but all that she said was, “she’s lovely, isn’t 6he?” “Pretty, all right. I never set much store by any of the family myself. Marcia’s mother always put on airs. Seemed to think she w r as better than anyone else in town, though goodness knows they didn’t have any reason to feel that way. Well—Marcia should have enough j money to last her for a while now. I I suppose you heard?” “No. I didn't hear anything about j it.” “You didn’t? Well, she’s got $500,000. The day before they were married, young Phillips took out a policy for that amount and put it in Marcia’s name. Doesn't it seem like the hand of providence? “I don’t know whether there's any more coming to her or not, but there probably is. Her husband was the only son Phillips had, though there are a couole of daughters. The talk is that the Phillips family isn’t any too friendly with Marcia. I don’t know why. Anwyhow, it’s my opinion that’s the reason she’s staying out here. Let her get the $500,000 and you won't see Marcia Phillips wasting any time in Forest City!” “She asked Jim to come over, and give her advice about some finan- ; cial matters,” Gypsy said. “Did she?” Abbie Manley shot a quick glance at her companion, but the girl’s face revealed nothing. Someone stopped them and Abbie introduced Gypsy to a number of men and women whose names she scarcely heard. i A fat, good-natured looking man who just had bought a bouquet of red roses was presenting a flower to each of the women. Gypsy tucked her rose through a buttonhole of her white frock. They went on to the booth. There was a crowd about. Abbie brushed her way forward and in five minutes emerged holding aloft the coveted basket. “Isn't it a beauty?” she exclaimed. “Only five more left. They're going like hot cakes.” The basket was the wide low kind used to carry cut flowers. It was of colorful straw, roughly braided. Gj-psy admired it and they

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moved off to have a look at the other booths. The grounds of the Willis home, where the garden party was being held, were surrounded by a tall hedge, sheltering it from the street. On the grassy front lawn a dozen tiny awning-covered booths had been erected. Girls and young women in fancy dress costumes were selling cut flowers, potted plants, and garden accessories. Two others in white sailor uniforms with tiny white caps at absurd angles were carrying great bunches of blue, gold, and crimson balloons. Here and there single balloons, bobbing in the distance, attested to sales. It had been a warm day. The sun still shone brightly, but now a breeze was stirring. The light colors of the women’s and children’s costumes gave the scene a festive lock. At the left was the tea pavilion with its wide striped awning, where tea and iced drinks were being served. Young girls dressed in white moved about among the men and women who sat in the shade of beach umbrellas. Beyond at the rear of the house was the famous Willis rose garden. “Shall we have tea now or look at the roses?” Abbie asked. a tt tt Cn YPSY said she was eager to see J the flowers. They followed a flagstone path to the arched gateway. Crimson rambler roses festooned the entire arch. Within was a .formal garden, at the center of which was a fountain with two childish figures molded in bronze. Paths led to either side and toward the fountain. Bordering the walks and arranged in regular groups were shrubs and bushes loaded with fragrant blossoms. There were red roses, pink ones, white ones. Massed about the central fountain were tall bushes bearing great crimson rosettes. In two smaller groups on each side exotic tea roses shading from pink to clear yellow nodded gently in the breeze. Old-fashioned garden flowers mingled with the roses, but their scent was lost in the predominating fragrance. There seemed to be roses everywhere. Men and women in groups strolled about the paths. Gypsy was amazed and delighted. She never had seen so many flowers. It was 5:30 when they finally returned to the tea pavilion.

Now the crowd was thinning out. Gypsy surveyed her neighbors. There were one or two whom she had met earlier in the afternoon. Ellen Wallace and Marcia were not in sight. She followed Abbie to a table where they were joined presently by two older women. The conversation was chiefly about what a great success the fete had been. It had all been because of the weather. The committee was assured of funds enough to buy the hospital linen. Gypsy only half heard what they were saying. At last she and Abbie rose and said goodby. Jim was at home when Gypsy arrived there. For some reason that evening she could not bring herself to tell him she had met Marcia. She spoke of the rose garden, mentioned others she had talked with, but all the while Gypsy herself was thinking about Marcia Phillips. She was thinking how beautiful Marcia had looked. Less than twenty-four hours were to pass before the two girls met again. Gypsy was returning from a trip to buy the day’s supplies. Pat trotted on ahead on his leash. As they turned a comer Gypsy saw a slender girl in a gray knitted suit coming toward her. It was Marcia, hatless, with nothing to conceal the glory of her sleekly golden hair. Marcia was walking slowly. At once she recognized Gypsy. “Good morning,” she said, sniffing. “I think we met yesterday at the garden party. I'm Marcia Phillips.” “Yes,” Gypsy answered. “I remember you. It’s a beautiful morning to be walking.” “Isn’t it? May I join you? Aunt Ellen insists I must get out for exercise, but I’ve always hated doing things because they’re good for me. You live near here, don’t you?” Gypsy nodded toward the Wallace house half way down the block. “The fourth house down,” she said. There was no sign from Marcia that she recognized the place. “Then we're neighbors,” Marcia

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YESTERDAY’S ANSWER

drawled. “You know I’m spending the summer with Aunt Ellen Wallace. I hope I'll see a great deal of you. “It’s only two years since I’ve lived in Forest City, but I’ve scarcely any friends left. So far I've seen no one except my lawyer.” Was there a quick, feline flash in those blue-gray eyes or did Gypsy imagine it? “I would have come to call,” Gypsy said, “but I didn’t think you'd care to see v strangers.” tt tt tt MARCIA nodded. There was both sadness and martyrdom in her face. “I haven’t wanted to see any one,” she said. “But I feel now that I should make the effort. It’s—not easy.” Certainly there was nothing to criticise in the young widow’s voice or expression. Why did that persistent inner voice keep whispering to Gypsy. “It’s a pose! She doesn’t mean it?” The inner voire would not be still. “Won’t you come in?” Gypsy asked when they reached the brick, walk. “I’d like you to see my garden.” Marcia smiled. “Another time perhaps. I must be getting on. Aunt Ellen expects me. Goodby.” She turned and Gypsy and Pat went up the walk toward the house. Gypsy walked slowly as though she were thinking. At 3 o’clock that afternoon Jim Wallace rang the bell before his aunt’s cottage. Marcia Phillips answered the ring. “Come in,” she said, smiling. “I’m glad you’re early.” She led the way to the living room. Shades had been lowered to keep out the sun. There was a bowl of fragrant white flowers on a table near the davenport. Marcia motioned the young man to a chair. “Sit here,” she said. “It's cooler.” She was wearing a sleeveless frock of pale blue. It was not exactly a tea gown, nor an afternoon dress. It was draped gracefully, elaborately trimmed with lace dyed to match the fragile fabric. The dress was flattering. “Thanks,” Jim said. Marcia had dropped to the davenport and was leaning back against its cushions. “Where's Aunt Ellen?” he asked. ‘She went to some church affair.” “Now about those papers you said you’ve received—” Marcia interrupted. The grayblue eyes looked out at him from between curling lashes. The lashes were (as Gypsy had suspected) expertly made up. “I didn't get those papers,” Marcia said quietly. “You didn’t get them?” The girl’s eyes lowered. A moment later they met Jim’s. There was challenge, something more, in their depths. “No,” Marcia said, “I didn't get them. I asked you to come here today, Jim, because I want to talk to you.” CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE “ILTOU know if there’s anything i. at all I can do to help you I want you to let me do it,” Jim said briskly. “I'm sure there’s nothing for you to worry over in those insurance papers. It may be ten days before a reply comes—” (To Be Continued)

STICKFM

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TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

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Answer for Yesterday

§ , ii § ii

LA came and stood beside Tarzan on the dais. "Glorious is the deed that you have done,” she said with admiration and love in her voice, "but we are doomed. In the legends of my people are recounted the exploits of these Bolgani. Never yet has a victim escaped their horrible clutches.” "There is a chance, LA,” replied the ape-man. "It seems to me that—” His words were cut short by a startled cry from the High Priestess. "See,” cried LA, pointing toward the east, “even now it is too late—they art returajkgl”

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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And Tarzan saw through the open doorway at the far end of the room a large band of approaching gorilla-men. Simultaneously they saw through the windows on the opposite wall a crowd of several hundred blacks running toward the windows. The other blacks upon the dais cried out excitedly: “They come. Our deliverers come! Now shall we be free. No longer shall the Bolgani torture us at our work or feed us to Numa.” As the first of the Bolgani reached the throne-room the Gonmjigani poured in from the opposite windows.

—By Ahern

The battle was on! Tarzan, calling Jad-bal-ja to follow him, descended the dais and took command of the Gomangani. During a lull, he smuggled through the combatants three trusty warriors. He ordered them to speed through the jungle and carry word to distant villages, tellwhat was happening in the palace and urging them to send armed help at once. Shortly after they left the Bolgani charged again. Tarzan leaped forward to assist in checking the rush. Pointing to the nearest Bolgani he shouted to the golden lion once more his terrible command: ‘‘Kill, Jad-bal-ja. pill”

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

The golden lion needed no second urging Straight for the throats of the nearest he sprang. His great Jaws closed but once upon the neck of each gorilla-man. Before this terrible beast the Bolgani faltered, hesitated, and then one among them threw hie weapons upon the floor. Immediately the others did likewise Tarzan called off the golden lion, ordering him back upon the throne. “One of you go,” he said, turning to the Bolgani, “and tell your fel-lo-vs I demand their immediate surrender!” As the creature obeyed, LA whispered: “Beware of treachery i”

APRIL 14, 1931

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin