Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 291, Indianapolis, Marion County, 16 April 1931 — Page 12

PAGE 12

'MAD MARRIAGE-11 °y LAURA LOU BROOKM/W Author of'HEART ttUNGRY,'etc.

BEGIN HERE TODAY QYPBY Ms BRIDE. 19-yw-old New York tvoiit, marries .JIM WALLACE the <Uv alter she meets him at the home of BRIDGE* llhV eousin - ANNE TROW* Oynw'has been Jilted by ALAN CROSBY. lust returned from a vear and a half in Parts stud vine art. and Wallace’s fiancee had broken their eneagemcni to marry a wealthier man. Jim and Gvpsy go to Forest City, where Jim has a thriving law practice. His relatives, particularly AUNT ELLEN, who has kept house for him, are hostile to Gvosv. Thev snuh her. Aunt Ellen moves to a cottage of her own. Alan Croshv writes to Gypsy but she returns the letter unopened MARCIA LORINO. Jim's former flnancee. marries BROCK PHILLIPS. miilUonalre’s son Months nass and news comes that Brock Phillips has been killed in a fall from a horse. Marcia returns to Forest Citv. Jim and Gvosv have thetr first auarrel When he asks her to go with him to cal! on Marcia and she refuses. Jim goes •lone and later Gmsy meets Marcia at 3 benefit garden She dislikes her instinctively. Mareia consults Jim about her financial affairs and later telis him her marriage to Phillips was a mistake. Jim. tries to remain loyal to Gypsy, but sees Marcia frequently. One evening Gypsy sees him going to the cottage where Marcia lives. Later Jim makes the excuse of working late at the office. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX JIM WALLACE did leave the house that night, but whether he went to the office Gypsy never knew. They scarcely had finished dinner when the telephone rang. Jim went to answer and returned in a moment. “It's Mills,” he said. “Wants me to come right down. Hope you don’t mind being alone?” “Not at all. I’ll be all right.” “Well, I’ll try not to be gone long, but don't wait up for me.” She said goodby and Jim disappeared. Gypsy left the dining room and walked out on the sun porch. There was a full moon lighting the garden and under its mellow glow the place took on new enchantment. Low hedges cast enormous black shadows. The sundial was a gleaming spire of purest white. Crickets were chirping and faintly in the distance she heard the hoot of an owl The breeze carried mingled perfume of a dozen different flowers. A porch swing that creaked in motion stood in the corner. Gypsy ;iank to its cushions, staring off across the garden. It was as well to be alone, she thought. There was so much to be settled. She rocked gently, touching one foot to the floor. Then, annoyed by the noise of the swing, she stopped. Marcia was here and Jim was in love with her. Those were the facts. What in those circumstances should Gypsy, who was his wife, do? It was not the usual triangle. This was different. She never had had the slightest claim on Jim’s affections. There had been occasions when she thought he cared for her. but all that had nothing to do with his devotion to Marcia. Now Marcia was back! Should she go away? Leave a message and depart—even tonight before he came home? That was a possibility. a a a GYPSY considered this. She would have to go some place where Jim could not find her. Go away? Tlic garden—her garden in which she liad worked such long hours — seemed to call to her. This house she had striven to make Into a home suddenly became doubly precious. Pat, the fox terrier, wandered across the porch floor and hopped up into the swing beside her. The dog nestled his nose against her arm. "What shall I do, Pat?” the girl whispered tensely. “What shall I do?” She knew she could not go away that evening. Hot resentment against Marcia Phillips welled in the girl's heart. Marcia wfith her beauty —her money, and her cruel, arrogant red lips. Why did it have to be Marcia to whom Jim had lost his heart? “If I only knew she didn’t intend to hiurt him,” Gypsy told herself, “I’d go away. If it were any one else but Marcia I’d leave. Oh. Jim. can’t you see she’s deceitful? You learned what she is once! Isn’t that enough? Must you let her break your heart a second time?” The fragrant wind from the garden had no answers a a a FOR a long time she stared out at the moonlight. There was an angle to the problem which the girl realized only subconsciously. With Marcia Phillips on the scene Jim Wallace—kind, generous and considerate—suddenly became more desirable. Many of Jim s good qualities Gypsy had accepted without a thought. There always had been

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the contract in her mind between good-natured, sturdy Jim and Alan Crosby, handsome and temperamental. Jim never had taken Alan’s place. Now she was amazed to find Jim had a place of his own. She did not want to give him up to Marcia Phillips. The moon rose higher in the sky. Shrubbery that had been in shadow suddenly emerged. The sundial that had glistened like ivory was lost to view. The house was perfectly quiet when at last Gypsy left the swing. It was 10:30 when she sent Pat to his bed for the night, made the rounds of the doors to see that all except the front one was bolted, and then went to her joom. She had settled on a waiting policy, but the plan seemed hopeless. Daily she feltHhe rift between herself and Jim becoming! wider. Whenever he telephoned that he would be delayed, whenever he left for the evening Gypsy wondered if he were spending the time with Marcia. She stayed away from the cottage at the end of the block, but one day, in spite of her precautions, she saw Marcia. Gypsy had come from the garden. She had been helping Sam transplant a row of phlox and her cotton dress, her bare arms and even her face were grimy. Sam led her around the house to have a look at the hole he had discovered In the hedge. Sam declared small boys were responsible. “Oh,” Gypsy exclaimed as they reached the front yard, “I didn’t realize it was down there!’’ a a a CONSCIOUS of her disgraceful appearance, she nevertheless followed the gardener. The hole was in the front hedge, half way between the entrance and the corner. Gypsy got down on her knees to Inspect it. “What are you going to do?” she asked. “Fasten it up with wire!” Sam said staunchly. “I’ll teach the little beggars to burrow into this hedge!” Sam mumbled on belligerently. Gypsy rose to her feet. As she did so she heard a voice saying sweetly, “How do you do, Mrs. Wallace?” The girl turned. Marcia Phillips ard a girl whom Gypsy did not know were approaching. Marcia was dressed in lavender organdie, a broad-brimmed straw picture hat trimmed with lavender ribbon on her head. The other girl was in white. Both looked delightfully cool and fresh. The lavender gown for all its simplicity had lines marking it with an unmistakable Fifth avenue stamp. Marcia was smiling. Gypsy's cheeks crimsoned. She could feel the smudges on her face and arms. In imagination they magnified. “Oh—good morning,” she managed to say. “I’ve been gardening.” Marcia’s laugh was a low trill. “How nice!” she said. “Such a beautiful morning for it. Come and see me some time!” The two girls passed on, Gypsy watched them. A slow, steady fire began to smolder in the girl’s heart. “I hate her!” Gypsy told herself. “I hate her! I hate her!” Then she hurried back to the house. She did not emerge until she had bathed and put on a clean frock. tt a a THAT same evening the opportunity arrived that Gypsy had been looking for. She had decided affairs could not go on as they had been. Jim appeared to be as miserable as she was. When they left the table he went out on the sun porch and presently Gypsy followed. Jim was sitting in the swing smoking. Night had not fallen yet, but all about was gray twilight. The tip of his cigaret glowed red in the dusk. Gypsy sat down beside him. She hesitated, wondering how to begin. “Jim,” she said after a few moments, “I don’t believe you’re feeling very well lately. Is it because you’ve been working too hard?” “Nothing wTong with me.” “But I’m sure there is. I can see it. Is it anything you’re worried about?” “Must be your imagination,” Jim answered. “I’m all right.” "But you. do look worried so much of the time. If there’s anything gone wrong I wish you’d tell me about it. Maybe it would help—” He moved as though annoyed. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said, and that ended the discussion. Presently she tried again. This

time she did so openly. “You know,” she said slowly, “one time you asked me if I’d ever regretted our marriage. Do you remember?” It was too dark for her to see Jim's eyes. His answer was a monosyllable. “Yes.” “And I asked you the same thing and you told me ‘no.’ That was almost a month ago.” There was a pause. “If you—ever feel differently I want you to tell me, Jim.” a o a r T'HE man smoked in silence. After a moment he took the cigaret from his lips. “I don’t know what you’re driving at,” he said, “but I’ll tell you.” After a few minutes he arose. “Isn’t this the night Paul Whiteman’s orchestra is on the air?” he asked. “Must be about time for them.” He went into the house and soon Gypsy heard the strains of dance music. She stayed on the porch. Later when she went into the living room Jim was not in sight. She aid not see him again that evening. Her attempt at discussion had failed. What would be the next step? Time alone could answer. It began to be a question which were more painful—the long days in the house with only the servants or evenings with Jim there. If only she could have talked to him! That was not to be expected, because they had never shared their private feelings. And Jim was suffering as much as she was. Gypsy felt sure of that. Occasionally she would look up and discover that he had been watching her. None of the common interests which had made their hours together so looked-forward-to seemed to suffice now. The garden and the grounds were in good shape. The redecoration of the house had been finished long ago. Jim talked little about his practice, as he had during the Roberts case. Even Pat no longer was a subject for conversation. an a JUNE drew to a close. Then one afternoon as Jim Wallace was dictating some correspondence the telephone rang. “Wallace speaking.” he said abruptly. For an instant there was no reply. “Wallace speak ” he began again, but a feminine voice cut in. “Is it you, Jim?” “Yes,” he said, and his tone had changed entirely. “Is anything wrong?” “No. Yes. Oh, Jim, I want to s£e | you. I’m at the Pine Grove tea room. Can’t you come over?” “I can get there in twenty minutes. Afraid I cuoldn’ tmake it any sooner.” “Then I’ll wait. Thanks, dear. I’ll be looking for you!” “Very well,” said Jim. He spoke curtly with a glance at Miss Otis, the secretary. He put down the telephone and returned to the letter before him. “Let’s see now. Just where were we ” “It’s the letter to the Wells-Fair-child Company. Shall I read what you’ve already given me?” “Yes, please.” The young man’s forehead knitted. He finished the letter and dictated two more . (To Be Continued)

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Answer for Yesterday

[W] The diagram shows how you can divi'de the shape into eight pieces, each of the same shape and size. /f

TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

As Tarzan and LA gasped for breath in the thick smoke, fast filling the throne-room of the Palace of Diamonds, a night’s ride away, Esteban, the false Tarzan, was burying the golden ingots. That unscrupulous Spaniard was bent on forestalling prasible treachery on the part of Owaza and nis blacks. “Suppose later,” he thought. “I am unable to locate this buried treasure?" For it was necessary to march to the coast for new supplies and porters, Owaza's black having mutinied, a move the wily chief had Instigated. $

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

C so TOU’RE the CHAM?BtN" V TouOGIN<4 SV MLTrtL YbjA'TT A'PpADcrs \HO*l THE NATIVES MUST TREMBLE AT YER/7 SUH, NOU’RE A BIT /TOt UKES 0 YOU?

SALESMAN SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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Esteban kept hidden a single ingot, planning to dispose of this on the sea coast for supplies. Also he drew upon the inner surface of the leopard skin he wore an accurate map of the treasure’s location. It was a map of blood: made with a sharpened stick dippM in the life fluid of a small animal. From Owaza he had obtained the native names of landmarks near the hidden gold. Also directions it r reaching it from the coast. So far, so good. Now to do away with Owaza at the earliest chance. And Owaza awaited his chance to foil the false Tarzan.

—By Ahem

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When ’Jane Clayton reached the sea to take a ship for London she received a cable stating it was not necessary for her to come to her father —he was now out of danger. After a few days’ rest she commenced the long, hot, weary journey back home. When she finally arrived she learned to her consternation that Tarzan of the Apes had not returned from his expedition to the city of Opar after the gold from the treasure vaults. She found Korak worried, but unwilling to believe that his father would not overcome

OUT OUR WAY

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i 'T~s A LUCKY THIUO- FOR. YOU, C-U2.Z y V / F/AC> TTffS, QLOWAf UP Th/s /VOQMtMG- [s'

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

She learned of the escape of the golden lion with regret, for she knew that Tarzan was much B attached to the noble beast. A week later, the Waziri who had accompanied Tarzan returned without hjm. They told of the supposed accident robbing the ape-man of his memory Lady Greystoke determined to set forth in search of him. Korak, failing to dissuade her. insisted upon going along. Jane refued. “You know,” she said, “I am safe anywhere in the heart of Africa with the Waziri.” With fifty of them then. Jane'Clayton set forth.

.APRIL 16, 1931

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin