Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 90, Indianapolis, Marion County, 24 August 1931 — Page 7

aug. 24,1931

/GUILTY® UPS fy LAURA LOU BROOKMAN Auth^ nr^gp

BEGIN HEBE TODAY _ NORMA KENT. or*ttv 20-ver-old sec£H.rv in • !*w office, meet* MARK TRAVERS, attractive and wealthy, when jotrether thev rescue a frinhter.cd punpv Xrom the midst of downtown traffic. Norma refuses to tell the vouna man har name or where he can see her again la;er she loin* 808 FAPRELL, young lawyer, for a dinner engagement. Farid! ask* her to marrv hits and Norma Aavy "no." The scene of the story Is Marlboro, middle-western metropolis. Norma takes the puodv to the shabby apartment she •hares with CHRISTINE SAUNDERS, generally called 'Thris." and finds ner gopmmate in tears. Norma fears Chris Is falling In love with her married emDlover. BRADLEY HART, proprietor of an advertising agency. The older girl refuses to tell What ffc troubling h£r. Next dav Norma Insert* an advertisement about the punnv in the lost and lound column of the Marlboro Press NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER FOUR (Continued) "I—l called,” he began, “to see about a dog.” “You what?” He was sure she had understood correctly. She only was trying to make it harder for him. In that case a change of tactics was in order. “I called to see about a dog,” he repeated soberly. "You 6ee, I’ve lost one, and today I read the advertisement in The Press. From the description given. I thought the one advertised might be mine.” In assuming that Norma was being petulant the young man did her less than justice. The girl was limply startled. She scarcely could believe the youth before her was the one she had seen on Broad street two nights before, the one who had dashed into the traffic and saved the puppy. There was no mistaking him, however. And now she was not angry with him. She was amused. “I see,” she replied primly. "Will you describe the animal you’re looking for?” "Well—he—er—he was a gray and brown puppy with a black spot over the right eye.” He looked down at the newspaper folded open to the classified pages and then up at the girl. Without batting an eyelash he Continued, “ ’And he has a black tail. Owner should’—that is, no, I mean that’s about ail I can say to describe him. He’s a little mut. Oh, I assure you I prize him highly! I’ve offered a reward for his return.” a a NORMA caught the spirit of the game. Her eyes were sparkling. “And just where did you lose this dog?” she asked. “Well, you see it was like this. I was taking the pup for his afternoon walk. It was about 5 o’clock) —maybe a little later—and we were on Broad street. “t stopped to glance at a window display and somehow the pup jerked the leash from my hand. He ran into the street. I went after him, but before I could reach him the dog was on the other side. I saw a young woman pick him up, get into a cab and disappear. When I called to her she took no notice. "The young woman”—here he stared gravely at the girl—“was about your size, I should say. She had blue eyes. Beautiful eyes and blond hair—” “Oh, I’m so sorry!” Norma interrupted him. "I’m quite sure the puppy I found can’t be yours. You see this dog didn’t have a leash or even a collar.” “It is possible that he might have lost them. At least, I would certainly like to see the dog you have here. As I said before, I prize my pet highly and I’m offering a reward.” “How am I to know, sir,” the girl spoke demurely, “that this story of yours is true? If I should let you see the dog, it would be- very easy for you to claim him. How can I be sure that you are not—er—an imposter?” a a a TRAVERS knew She was laughing at him. Well, that was all right so long as she wasn’t angry. Taking a leather case from his pocket he drew out a card, bowed formally and extended it toward the girl. “Madam, my card!” So his name was really Travers. Norma read the neat engraving, “Mark Finley Travers.” It was not a business card. The lettering was bold, masculine, aristocratic-look-ing. Or perhaps it was the name itself that seemed aristcoratic. “May I see the dog now?” Should she go on with his non-

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sense? It was ridiculous to pretend she never had seen the young man before, that she believed his story about losing a dog or that he cared anything about seeing the puppy. As Norma hesitated she caugh* ais I gaze directly. The girl flushed. In a voice that was not quite natural j she said suddenly, “I’ll show him to you. we’ll have to go down to the basement." She led the way. to a door at the rear of the dimly lighted hall. It would have been better, Norma realized as soon as the words were out of her mouth, for her to have i gone alone, and brought the puppy upstairs. There was no need for Travers to follow into that grime-covered region which served as a general storeroom. Travers was impeccably dressed. His steady tread followed her light footsteps on the rickety stairs. Norma snapped the switch and pale electricity illuminated the basement. “It’s back here,” she said ovqr her shoulder They went through an open doorway into the rear of the basement. This was the storeroom and here, on his fc •'ed blanket, the pup sat erect, blinked at them. a a a EVIDENTLY the sound of their footsteps had awakened him. For an instant the puppy stared, then bounded forward with a yelp. “Mrr-ph! Mrr-ph!” he barked joyously. “MRR-PH!” Norma stooped and picked him up. She held him in her arms, rubbing the velvety head. “Why, he looks a lot better!" Travers exclaimed, forgetting his pose. “Been feeding him, haven’t you?” “Bread and milk,” Norma informed him. “The night I brought him here he really was nearly starved. You should have seen him go after a bowl of milk!” She gave her attention to the pup. “That’s all right, Wowser,” she said, caressing the silky fur. “Would you like to go upstairs now and have some supper? Were you lonely down here all day?” “Wowser! Is that the name you have given him?” “Don’t you think it’s a good one? He stays here in the basement night and during the day he can get out in the yard whenever he wants to through that window. The yard is fenced. There’s no danger of his getting away.” “Listen,” Mark Travers spoke earnestly, “you know I think it’s swell of you to take care of this little mut the way you have. Feed him and look out for him, actually spend money to try to find the people he belongs to ” “Why, Mr. Travers!” The girl touched the puppy’s warm fur to her cheek. She was smiling. “I thought you came here to inquire about the dog you’ve lost! You haven’t said a word about whether or not this puppy is yours. Aren't you—er—forgetting yourself?” a a a TRAVERS grinned. “Suppose I am,” he admitted. "It wasn’t really a dog I lost, though. It was a g>*l. She wouldn’t tell me her name or her telephone number, but she dio say something about placing a want ad to find the owner of a stray. pup. “I’ve read every edition of every newspaper published in this town for the last two days! I’ve tried to think up a hundred different schemes. to find you and none of them were practical—” Now was certainly the time to end this interview It was a mistake to have brought the young man downstairs, Norma realized. In the dusty basement, holding a squirming puppy, it was practically impossible for her to assume a formal tone and send Mr. Mark Travers about his business. No more could she stand there listening to the speeches she was certain would be forthcoming in another moment. They would be flattering speeches. By the light in the young man’s eyes, by the tone of his voice, she was very sure of that. Norma had heard just such “lines” before and put faith in none of them. No, the situation must be met firmly. She turned toward the youth. “Well, Mr. Travers,” she said, “since this isn’t your dog we may as well go back upstairs. I’ll take Wowser

along with me to ge<, his bread and milk. “There’s a woman coming after while who thinks he may be the dog she has lost. Let’s hope the real owner will be here before long.” “Oh, but wait a minute —” Travers’ eyes (brown they were and very dark) pleaded for him. They pleaded to no avail. Norma had turned her back and did not even catch the glance. Perhaps if she had seen it she might not have been so adamant. a a a SINCE she did not, there was nothing for the young man to do' but follow those slim young shoulders down the passageway and up the rickety stairs once more. By the time they emerged to the first floor hallway he was ready with anew appeal. “Listen, Miss Kent,” he began, “I hope I haven’t offended you by coming out here on—well, sort of false pretenses. I thought maybe I could persuade you to come for a drive. ‘“lt’s a fine evening and my car’s outside. We could go somewhere and dance. Or if you’d rather see a play we can take a run downtown End pick up tickets—” This was more familiar and easier to handle. Norma said clearly, “I’m serry, Mr. Travers, but it’s quite out of the question. Besides I must stay here this evening to answer inquiries about the dog.” “How about tomorrow then?” “I couldn’t possibly manage it tomorrow.” “How about the next night? Or the one after that?” Norma shook her head. I didn’t put that want ad in the paper,” she said firmly, “to increase my social engagements. I—l think I’d better say good evening now.” u u U MARK TRAVERS was annoyed and his face showed it. On the other hand, each refusal,-every-thing about this young woman, made him want more and more to know her. Lowering the pitch of his voice, fixnig his eyes on Norma, he said softly, “Oh, but you will change your mind just this one time? You will do this for me, won’t you, Beautiful?” It was the voice, the tone, the very speech that had won a dozen romantic encounters. Seldom, therefore, has there been a more amazed, more disconcerted young man than this self-same Mark Travers when, five minutes later, he found himself on the opposite side of a closed door with only the dusky September sky to share his reflections. Travers moved slowly toward the roadster at the curb. It was a handsome roadster, heavily built but graceful. He climbed into the seat and with a low throb the car shot forward. Dusk had descended completely when Travers brought the car to an abrupt halt before a corner tobacco store. He left the wheel, entered the store and made his way to a public telephone booth. Then he dropped a nickel into the slot and began to dail rapidly. CHAPTER FIVE NATALIE PRICE reached a glittering, jewel-encircled wrist toward the French telephone. In the low, drawling tone the smartest debutantes were affecting she said slowly, “This is Nat.” There was a pause. Then the girl’s face flashed into radiance. “Oh, Mark, darling,” she exclaimed. “I’m so glad! Yes, I waited on the chance you might call. Tried to get you at the house, but they said you’d gone. “Oh, you will? Angel, aren’t you sweet!” Natalie’s laugh was throaty, insinuating. “Well, then, hurry. Natalie craves her ol’ Marky-Mark! Bye, darling.” She put down the instrument, turned and called sharply to the maid across the room. “Get the white dress, Marcelle! I’ll wear it after all. Hurry!” At once there was excitement in the modernistic mauve and silver boudoir. Wherever Natalie Price was there was likely to be excitement. Only Marcelle, the French maid, knew what tempests could arise over a last-minute change of her mistress’ costume. Natalie stormed. Marcelle cajoled. Garments went hurtling through the air and Natalie’s voice became shriller, louder Tonight the bustle and stir were in vain, it was nearly io p m when Natalie, .resplendent in scarlet cloak and white satin, came tripping down the circular stairway to meet the young man below. He just had arrived, still wore his muffler and top coat. • a a NATALIE’S narrow flame-red lips bowed in a smile. The girl’s beauty was that of coloring rather than features. Her hair was a dark, cloudy mass, curling back from a pale forehead. (To Be Continued)

Sticklers on Page 10

TARZAN, LORD OF THE JUNGLE

.* 1 I | ' 1 . _ ! ' ' 'J .^

A hundred knights of Nimmr, armed with lances, formed at one end of the lists, awaiting the trumpet signal to engage an equal number of knights of the Sepulcher. These knights were the very flower of both factions, youths ia their twenties, astride chargers especially selected for their power and fleetness. Jimmy Blake found himself well toward the center of the line of Nimmr s knights.

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 ANB HER BUDDIES

As Blake looked at the glittering array of opposing knights adown the field, he experienced a certain nervousness, as for a brief moment he felt he was merely part of a dazzling dream. At last came the signal. Trumpets blared from the four comers of the lists. From two hundred throats came a shout and the thundering horde bore down the smooth field. Ea*h knight must engage the single foe upon hiA bridle hand.

—By Ahern

Over his shield’s rim, Blake saw the solid front of lances, iron-shod chargers and great shields almost upon him. Now the two lines were about to meet. The spectators sat in spellbound silence. The riders, grim-Jawed, with tight-set lips, were voiceless now. Blake, his lance set, picked the knight racing toward him. Each crouched • his shield as the two lines came together with a deafening crash.

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burruugha

Blake’s shield smashed backed against his face and body with such terrific force that he was almost carried from his saddle. He felt his own lance strike and splinter. Then, halfstunned, he was through the iron line; his charger, frantic and uncontrolled, was running wildly toward the tilts of the enemy. With a mighty effort, Blake pulled himself together and tried to regain control of his mount.

PAGE 7

—By Williams

—By Blosssr

—By Crane

—By Small

By Martin