Indianapolis Times, Volume 42, Number 297, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 April 1931 — Page 8

PAGE 8

Rad marriage-*! bl j lAURA LOU BROOKMAN Author of‘HEART HUNGRtfeic.

BEGIN HERE TODAY QYPSY Mr.BRIDE. 19-v**r-old New York trout. marries JIM WALLACE tbe S* s*' 5 *' - After he meets him at the home * her wealthy cousin. ANN TROWIRIDGE. Gypsy has been pi!ted bv ALAN CROSBY. Just returned from a year and a half In Paris studvlna art. Wallace's nance# has broken their engagement to marry a richer man. Jim and Gypsy go to Forest City, where Jim has a thriving law practice. Hhls relatives snub Gypsy. MARCIA LORING. Jim's former fiancee, marries Brock Phillips, millionaire s son. Months pass and Brock Phillips Is killed In a fal lfrom a horse. Marcia returns to Forest Cltv. Bhe consults Jim about financial affairs and later tells him her marlrage to Phillips was a mistake. Jim tries to remain loyal to Gypsy, but sees Marcia frequently. Gvpsv worries. Marcia asks her to give up Jim. Gypsy refuses. ABBIE MANLEY. Jim’s cousin, tells of seeing him at luncheon with a girl in a blue dress whom she supposed was Gypsy. Gvpsv Is sure the girl was Marcia. Bhe meets FRANK GIBBON, whom Jim does not like, and accepts In Invitation to drive her home. NOW GO ON WITH STORY CHAPTER FORTY-ONE remembered Frank GibI son very well now. He was the young man wtih whom Jim had accused her of flirting. There had been something about Gibson being co-respondent in a divorce case. Oh, yes. she remembered very well. “Oh, I’d love to see the west coast,” Gypsy told him. “Were you In California, too?" Gibson nodded. “I like Washington and Oregon better myself. Make the trip out there usually twice a year. Selling hardware is my business.” He paused and grinned. “Not with a pack on my back, you understand. My firm sells to retailers.” Gypsy smiled. “I didn’t think you carried a pack,” she said. “Speaking of the heat wave, look at this!” Gibson held out on hand. Raindrops as big as 5-cent pieces had begun to fall. “Well, I guess the siege is broken at last. You’d better come up on these steps! You’ll get wet.” “It doesn’t matter,” Gypsy said. “I’m going to have to run to catch my car ” Gibson took her by the arm and led her under the shelter of the entrance to the drug store. “You’d be drowned if you tried to catch a car now. Even a taxi. Besides, there’s no need. My car is just around the corner and if you’ll let me get it, I’ll drive you home.” “Would you really?” “Glad to. -Will you wait here? I swear it won’t take me more than a minute!” Gypsy’s heart pounded as she waited. If it were any one except Frank Gibson it would have been a perfectly natural procedure. Jim practically had declared she should never speak to Gibson. Well—Jim Wallace was not a person to give her orders. When the trim brown coupe drew up to the curb before the drug store the girl ran out to it. Gibson swung the door open and she stepped inside. “Going to be hard to drive, isn’t It?” she asked. “Not bad. With such big drops the shower can’t last long. Too bad because the ground needs the moisture—to say nothing of we suffering humans.” The glass at each side of the car Was drawn down. Gypsy took a deep breath. “Oh, the air is so much fresher!” Ihe exclaimed. “I love rain storms.” , “Do you? Like them myself. Always have liked to drive in the rain,” There was a pause and then Gibson spoke again. “It’s still early.” he said with sudden enthusiasm. “Suppose instead of taking you directly home we swing out on the Somerset road? We can get a real breath of fresh air out there. What do you say? Shall we do it?” St St St FOR an instant Gyspy hesitated. She was aware that Gibson was watching her eagerly. There was a faintly bantering light in his eyes. It was as though he were challenging her. “Are you game to go? Will you take the dare?” The girl’s chin lifted. “Yes,” she said, “if there’s fresh air cool, fresh air—to be had on the Somerset road, let's go there. I haven’t had a breath of it for weeks.” While she was still speaking, Gibson had swung the car around. The rain drops were coming faster now. He seemed to be an expert driver. Gypsy watched the ease with which he handled the car. Surely it was anew one. The brown paint glistened and the upholstery looked so fresh. “It’s anew car, isn’t it?” she asked. “Had it two weeks. Bought it as Boon as I got back from the coast.” “It’s too bad to have it out in a ttorm like this.”

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“That’s what I got it for. I get my money’s worth out of a car. Buy ’em to use ’em. Would you like to drive?” “Oh, no! I’ve had a little experience with a battered up fliwec, but I wouldn’t think of trying to drive a car like this! Jim never lets me touch the roadster.” “That so? You ought to learn. Practice probably is all you need. Any time you feel in the mood, I’d be glad to come along as instructor—a poor one, I’ll admit.” Gypsy’s smile was a bit nervous. “I’d better not,” she said, “unless you want your lovely coupe to be a complete wreck!” “Well, I’d take my chances. By the way, how is Jim these days? Haven’t seen him." “He’s about as usual. Working too hard, I think. He hasn’t had a vacation yet, and I think he needs it.” Gibson nodded. “That always was Jim. Plugging away! You know the trouble with him is he forgets to enjoy life. What’s the use of living if you have to work all the time? That’s the way I feel about it— ” “Oh, Jim doesn’t work all the time. He likes fun.” “Does he? Well, I’m glad to hear that. Say, he made quite a success of a case last spring, didn’t he? Girl accused of murder.” “Yes. The Roberts case. It was a wonderful victory.” “I remember now'. Read about It in a San Francisco paper. The girl was pretty, wasn’t she? What became of her?” “After she was acquitted she left Forest City and went back to her relatives. She has a better job now and I think she’s happy. Os course it was a terrible experience. It will be a long time before she’ll get over it.” Gibson nodded. “And how do you like being a lawyer’s wife?” he asked, “when the customers are young—and pretty?” tt st tt SHE wished he wouldn’t look at her that way. She wished he wouldn’t say such things. It was more Gibson’s tone than the words to which she objected. But she tried to answer lightly. “Oh, do you think I need to worry?” “I’ll say I don’t! Not you.” They were on the Somerset road. It was a narrow ribbon of highway winding a circuitous route on gradually rising ground. The rain pourqd down steadily. As the coupe swung around the curve, the wheels skidded. It was all over after a breathless instant. Gibson had control of the car. They were moving along smoothly again. Gypsy, who had seen it all in one terrorized moment, drew a deep sigh. “Oh,” she said, “for a moment I thought !” ‘So did I!” Gibson said sharply. “Well, I won’t let that happen again, I assure you!” They drove silently for a few moments. Gypsy was thinking that if the young man had been watching the road instead of looking at her the near-accident would not have occurred. Probably he knew how to drive all right when he kept his mind on driving. “Do you notice how much cooler it is out here?” he asked presently. “Much cooler,” she agreed. “I wonder if the rain is going to last all evening. Th e sky doesn’t seem any lighter.” “You can’t tell about these summer storms. Anyhow, the longer it lasts the more pleased some people will be.” / a st a garden needs it,-’ Gypsy began and then she stopped. She wished she had not come for this foolish drive. She should have waited until the storm was over or taken a taxi. Now she was doing the very thing for which she had condemned Jim. Suddenly she wondered if Frank Gibson had heard gossip about her and Jim. Was that why he had suggested the drive? Was that why he looked at her with that smile that seemed to say more than it should? She had always heard men were worse gossips than women. “I think,” Gypsy said, “that we should be turning back now.” “All right. Just as you say. We’ll turn at the next crossroads.” Silence settled between them. Gypsy was thinking about Jim and Marcia. She would talk to Jim after dinner that evening. It must all be settled very quickly. She began to plan what she would say.

Afterward she could never tell exactly what had happened. There was the moment when she saw the other car swerve crazily. Gibson swore. Gypsy felt the coupe reel and screamed. a m s> i SHE never had seen the man who was bending over her. He had a round face and wore spectacles. “Do you think,” he was saying, “that if I help you you can stand?” Gypsy moved and a twinge of pain shot through her left foot. She discovered that she was lying on the ground. A man’s coat was under her and her clothing was half-drenched. The rain still was falling. “What—what happened?” she asked in a small voice. “Another car crashed into yours. How do you feel now?” “My foot hurts,” Gypsy told him. “The left one.” She tried to draw herslf up to sitting position, but the movement brought a quick exclamation of pain. “Here—let me take your arm,” the man said. “See if we can’t make it easier. Are you ready now?” Gently he lifted her. The left foot ached, but Gypsy set her lips and endured it. Her shoulder pained her, coo. She looked down and saw that her arm was bleeding. “That’s nothing,” the stranger said, noting her glance, “just a scratch. Pretty badly jolted, aren’t you? Don’t try to stand on that foot! Lean against me.” The girl did as she was told. Her entire body seemed to be a mass of aches and bruises. She was cold. Now she was beginning to remember what had happened. The brown coupe sprawled in the ditch at the side of the road. A few yards back stood a large touring car. “Where is Mr. Gibson?” she asked. “Was he —hurt?” The man nodded toward a figure at the other side of the coupe. “Your friend seems to be knocked out,” he said. “If we can get you into my car, I’ll see what I can CAUTIOUSLY, leaning on the stranger’s arm, Gypsy limped toward the touring car. There were questions she wanted to ask, but it was all the girl could do to set her teeth and endure the agony. “Think we’d better get you to a doctor,” the man said as he noted the grimace when she settled herself in the rear seat of the touring car. “That foot pains a lot, desn’t it?” She nodded. “You’d better—go back to—Mr. Gibson—” A tall figure in clothing that had once been white came hobbling toward them. The stranger turned. “Well! You look all right. I thought you’d taken the count!” Gibson rubbed his head. “What was the damn fool trying to do?” he grumbled. “Kill us? Where’s his car?” The stranger shook his head. “The other fellow didn’t even stop,” he said. “Must have been drunk, judging from the way he was driving. I was behind and saw him weaving from one side of the road to the other. Crash must have come when I was on the other side of the hill. I didn’t seen it. When I got here the other car was way down the road and yours was in the ditch.” “Roadster, wasn't it?” Gibson asked. “I didn’t have a chance. The idiot deliberately ran into us.” He burst into vigorous profanity. (To Be Continued)

STICKERS

Can you make the above design m one continuous line, without going over the same line twice and without rasing the pencil from die paoer? 2i

Answer for Yesterday

HannaH Handed HugH HasH. This shows how the letter H may be added to the above small letters to jpefl out a simple sentence. 7|_

TARZAN AND THE GOLDEN LION

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Under the flickering light of the cresset, Tarzan of the Apes saw tier after tier of shelves upon which were stacked small sacks made of skins. Opening one, the old man spilled a portion of the contents into the palm of one hand. “Diamonds!” he said. “The Bolgani have been accumulating them for countless ages. In their legends is the prediction that some day the Atlantians will return and barter for them. A king’s ransom aeposes in each of these sacks!"

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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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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Giving one bag to LA, another to Tarzan and keeping one for himself, the old man remarked: “Just for luck, in case we leave this valley alive!” From the diamond vault he led them up a primitive ladder to the floor above and quickly to the main entrance of the Tower. Two heavy, bolted doors now lay between them and the terrace. Beyond that, only a short distance, was the east gate which Tarzan had left open. But this time the last of the Gomangani had •Maided the Udder. f

—By Ahern

7 Thought You (AM ( &VT sacjs our sick, u/c/ce Too BUSY < KlTty's, GoTb cold hwo&sds FEIZ BALL- y DUO up PKoThSP. OR.AMD i J L,ißl ToOat

Capyrlgtw, !*■>. b j Edf*r Riot

Carefully the ape-man explained to them they were to run for the gate as the bolted doors swung open. Then, turning to the old man he said: “NOW!” The bolt slipped back, the doors swung open and the entire party swarmed out. The Bolgani, unaware that- their victims had eluded them, did not discover the fact until Tarzan, bringing up the rear with the golden lion, was passing through the gates. Then several hundred gorilla-men started on a mad run in pursuit. .

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

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“Now for it!” cried Tarzan to the others. “Run straight down the valley toward Opar.” ‘I shall not stir a step without you, Tarzan,” said LA. “As you wish.” he said with a shrug, “here they come.” Fifty of the Gomangani rallied to his call and with these the ape-man stood in the gateway toward which the Bolgani were now charging. As the first of the hairy monsters snarled within a few paces of them, LA glared down the jungle trail. “Look! Look!” she cried.

APRIL 22, 1931

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin