Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 62, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 July 1931 — Page 9

®TTY 22. 1931

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r . oa BEGIN HEBE TOOAT •bV.. 88 . BARRETT. stock compmi irr Tt . t* - * 5 Klad 10 set, out of the city So. .• summer to play at a tashton,P‘® Lona Island colonv. LTANE, her fl*ughter. helps in the bo* ®°K* W |th MURIEL LADD, debutante. •A; * party Llane meets VAN ROr handsome man of the world, i >*** peas Llane not to see him strain. is said t 0 j n love with c’BuCK DESMOND, debonair reporter. touhd with other men. ELSIE MINTER tel!* Llane there la aossip about Robard and Muriel's wother. Casa aoes on tour In the autumn. Igwl* Dane with MRS CI.EESPAUGH. •then she Is tac'n sraveiv 111 Dane rushes to her. Cass recovers. Van's * n £a*ement to Muriel Is announced. when Cass returns to the Clecspauah home. CLIVE CLEESPAUGH asks Llane to marry him—a marrlaee of convenience. Bhe accepts, although she does not love him TRESS A LORD and her sister. MRS. AMBERTON. com to visit the Clee'patißhs. Trer.Ga dislikes Llane and beains a plot agalr.-t her. At a nlaht lub a sinister fellow threatens blackmail to Llane. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORV CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR CContlnued) "You talk big, I notice,” the man said. “But you keep your skirts clear. What a hotvl you put up when It looked as if there was going to be a leak on the Miley case. You didn’t want it known that you were one of my tipsters.” "I have to live among them,” the woman said sullenly. 'lt's my bread and butter.” “Well, you’d better lay off this girl, I’m telling you,” the man observed. “I wouldn’t touch th* story "with a pole.” “Maybe the tabloids will then,” sneered the woman. She stood up to go. Without ceremony the d?or opened and a big young man shambled in. Even in his dark, plain suit he had the tell-tale marks of a policeman. “Ferson?” The man at the desk, nervously shuffling proofs, said yes, he was Ferson. “I’m McDermid, from headquarters. You seen Barbados?” "I’ve seen him.” “Well, then, you know that I know about this tie-up. I just wanted to drop you the news, for fear Johnny hadn’t made it plain enough to lay off.” He fixed a gimlet eye on the woman. "I’ve seen you at the opera,” he said suddenly, snapping his fingers. “I know you, ma’am, and that’s a fact. Don’t be springin’ anything on any friend of mine or I’ll be obliged to see that your connection with this filthy rag” this arm swept the offices of “The Tattletale) “gets about.” The woman shrugged. ’’Well, that wouldn't do you any good. No. Better do what I teil you.” McDermid rumbled out of the door. . The man threw out his hands expressively. “There, you see?” u tt a THE extension telephone in the upstairs hall rang sharply. Liane went to answer it. Nora on the downstairs wire said. “It’s for you, miss.” “Hello. Tliis is McDermid. You’re not to worry It’s all fixed, as I told you.” "Oh, thank you. A million million—” “It’s nothing. You’re entirely welcome.” There was a faint buzzing on the wire. Then Shane’s voice came through quite clearly, "Look out though. You’ve an enemy.” Liane clicked frantically, but the connection was cut off. Mrs. Amberton called to her from her sitting room as the girl passed down the hall. “Come in and talk to me.” Llane obeyed with alacrity. She liked this slow-voiced, amiable woman. ✓ ‘Tressa’s been Jn town all day. Isn’t It a fiendish one? I hate rain.” “16 was snow yesterday. Too early for that but better than this drizzle,” Liane agreed. She saw herself again going tremblingly down the dirty side street to the police station. It seemed years ago instead of hours. Her heart was lighter now. “Are you pll ready for the wedding?” Mrs. Amberton asked lazily. “Almost,” Liane sat, lacing her fingers in and out. “You’re wearing a veil and everything?” “Oh, yes, but it’s to be very quiet. No maids. Just mother to give me away.” There was a little flurry on the stairs as the talk halted lamely. They could hear Nora saying, “You’re wet through, miss.” “My dear!” Fanny cried as Tressa

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pushed past. “Where have you been?” "I’ve had the most frightful day,” Tressa said, ignoring Liane. “Let me have a tub and rest before you start asking questions.” CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE THE word went from mouth to mouth. “The prince! The prince is here!” No one had been sure he was coming. The great Hunt ball had been an auual affair in Willow Springs since the first fur kings and railroad barons had built their Victorian palaces there back in the 90s. It always was a gala event, even in the rarrified atmosphere of that gilded township. That its date coincided with the visit of his royal highness was pure chance. No one had been certain he would actually be present. But here he was. Liane, in a frothy frock of petal chiffon cut demurely low to show her young shoulders, was staying close to the kindly Mrs. Cleespaugh. There was about this atmosphere something definitely intimidating. The clipped voices, the assured manners which were not manners at all. but sublimated rudenesses, the massaged, scented and exquisitely dressed women frightened and chilled her. She thought: “Is it possible I am ever to enter this circle really as an intimate?” The ide vaguely terrified her. Clive, at her elbow, said: “Dance this?” She looked up at him, grateful for his nearness, for the sense of rightness and security his presence affordeed her. As she gave herself, quite impersonally, to his embrace she thought that life would not be such a bad thing with this young man by her side. They threaded their way through the mazes of the music. Clive’s arm tightened around her. How well he danced! He said, “Sorry.” and steered her deftly around a cruising pair, a plump matron in sea green velvet and her languid escort. Liane thought for an instant that the tightening of his arm had been an impulsive movement. Her pulse had, quickened a little at the thought. With disappointment she realized he was only being instinctively gallant, trying to avoid a collision which had seemed imminent. Strange, strange young man, she reflected. A little piqued she w ; as that he had never tried to “make love” to her. Did he think her so unattractive? “Well, she mustn’t quarrel with her fate. He had asked her to marry him and she, for reasons of her own, had agreed. The murmur ran along the line. “The prince!” A discreet, polite murmur. And after an instant, in the suddenly cleared doorway, he appeared. A tall, very thin, iether supercilious looking young man with pale brown hair and a monocle glazing one of his sharp brov/n eyes. He was in a dress uniform of silver and blue. tt tt tt THE orchestra in response to a hidden signal struck up the young notable’s national air. He smiled. He clicked his heels and bowed from the waist. Liane heard the plump, green velvet matron murmur “Adorable!” in swooning accents. The prince put out his arm to one of the ladies in his party and the dance began again as suddenly as it had stopped, “Getting tired?” Clive wanted to know. Liane shook her head. She danced dreamily, casually. The throb of the music was in her blood. It was like an enchantment. Abruptly she felt her partner’s arm about her loosen. She looked up into the grinning face of Chuck Desmond, who had said “Cut?” to Clive. "You!” she gasped, startled. “The kid himself,” Desmond acknowledged. “I crashed this party with His Nibs. Used to be a cor- ! respondent in Slavaria when ’ his | father was in power. “He makes me drag along whereever he goes and the boss doesn’t mind. It gives me the inside track.” “It’s nice to see you,” Liane told him. And indeed this young man whom Muriel had once described as “devastating” seemed more than ever like a friend and brother tonight. “You’re pretty easy on the eye yourself, Lovely,” he told her ad-

miringly- “Nice doodabs you’re sporting.” Liane looked down at the pearls on her throat. “They are” she agreed. “They’ve been in my fiance’s family for years. They’re so precious I’m afraid to wear them, really, but he wanted me to tonight.” “So you're joining up witn the Junior Leaguers,” Chuck Desmond murmured. “How d’you think you’ll like it?” Liane flushed and looked away. She said “Tell me about the prince. What's he really like?” Chuck Desmond said shrewdly, “I didn't mean to butt in. Sorry. Well, he’s a swell guy, but not at a racket like this. Too ha-cha-cha. He’s on parade. Can’t be himself.” Desmond said “Cheery-ho” as Clive, somewhat stiffly, cut in again. “Known that fellow long?” Clive asked in a voice just a shade too casual. “I met him at the theater last summer,” Liane explained. “He’s nice. Lot of fun.” Clive said “Hum” in a noncommittal manner. Liane almost giggled. She never had before seen him give an impersonation of the protective male. She was sitting in the Cleespaugh box a few moments later when Desmond and that resplendent figure appeared in the doorway. “His Highness wishes to be presented to mademoiselle,” muttered the newspaper man, an audacious gleam in his eye. Clive had risen, stood glowering. But Mrs. Cleespaugh was plainly delighted. Great lady that she was, she found room in her heart to defer to royalty. “Ma’mselle honors me with this dance?” the prince inquired after the formalities had been completed. tt tt tt LIANE went down the long stairway with her gloved fingers resting lightly on the arm of that sky blue jacket. She passed Tressa who favored her with a cool, interested stare. Tressa was sinuous and lovely in black. She thought childishly that it would be nice if Van Robard might be there to see her dancing with the Prince. Make him sorry . Sorry for what? All this seemed the veriest fabric of a dream. The room, the shimmering fabrics, the music, the scent of rare perfumes. Most unreal of all seemed Liane herself, an insubstantial figure in pale rose gossamer, treading the measure with a prince of the blood. “In half a minute,” she thought, “I’ll wake up to find myself on the folding bed in the apartment, reaching for the alarm clock and dashing to get breakfast. His highness said, “Mademoiselle waltzes as if on air.” Liane smiled up at him. "it is my partner who dances well.” she returned. She thought, I’m Cinderella. What if the clock strikes 12? They danced into a little covert of chrysanthemums and silken hangings. “Rest?’ her escort asked One grows fatigued?” “Not at all,” Liane assured him. But already he was drawing out a little gilt chair, offering her a cigaret. ’Mademoiselle does not wish? But how refreshing!” He marveled at her. “Ah, this is pleasant.” They were a little withdrawn from the ballroom. The music came to them faintly muted. Liane thought of Clive whose blue eyes wotild search the dancers for her in vain. The Prince lifted a curtain which concealed a little door. “This leads to the balcony,” he said softly. “Let us find ourselves some air. I perish here.” The little winding stair indeed led to tiny gallery with French windows. “Ah, you are cold,” mourned the prince, noting that Liane shivered. “Permit me. Igo to get a cloak.” (To P.e Continued)

STICKLERS

CD 0 H Arrange 15 matches as shown"m the drawing. Then take six away and leave , 10 If you can do this, then rearrange the matches m the original way and take six away to leave 100. ££

Answer for Yesterday

2.151571 951173 215 1569 1505 645 645 The drawing shows the original appearance of the slate, before the various figures were erased.

TARZAN, LORD OF THE JUNGLE

Silenay, warily, Tarzan came through the trees until he stood upon a swaying limb directly above a camp of Negroes. Instantly he recognized them as the safari of the young American, Blake. A second later he dropped to the ground before the astonished eyes of the blacks. Some of them would have run, but others recognized him. “It is the big Bwana!” they cried. “It is Tarzan of the Apes!”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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Summoning the head-man, Tarzan demanded: “Where is your master?” “He in gone many, many days,” answered the stalwart Negr* “where, we do not know. After great storm, he did not return from hunting. We have not known what to do, for we fear that he is dead.” Tarzan learned too, that while searching for Blake* they had come upon a place where desert people had recently camped.

—By Ahem

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“You have done well,” said Tarzan. “Now return to your vilage, taking these things which are the young Bwana’s and keep them for him. men send a runner to the home of Tarzan with a message.” The message asked that r. hundred Waziri warriors be sent to the North Galla country and there follow the trail of the desert people. This arranged, the ape-man vanished in the trees. \

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

In the castle of Prince Gobred, Jimmy Blak# was being schooled in the duties of a Knight of Nimmr. The prince quickly saw Blake was utterly ignorant of knighthood’s rules.' But Sir Richard was a well-loved knight and he had his way. He made himself responsible for Blake’* training and conduct. Perhaps, too, the influence of the Princess Guinalda was not without its effect*

PAGE 9

—By Williams

—By Blosssr

—By Crane

-—By Small

—By Martin: