Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 108, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 September 1931 — Page 9

SEPT. 14,1931

GUILTY# UPS °y LAURA LOU BROOKMAN

_ .. BEGIN HERE TODAY Pretty Norma Kent. 20-year-old itec- • law of J‘ce. marries MARK on ol F. M. TRAVERS, millionaire real aetate dealer, after the lather has sworn to cut Mark off without a penny If the marriage takes place. Norma has known Mark only a few weeks and did not know during the courtship that he was a millionaire's ■on. The story opens In Marlboro, middle western metropolis. CHRISTINE BAUNDers with whom Norma shares an apartment. and BRADLEY HART. £ss** employer, are witnesses at the wedding. Before this, Norma has refused to marry 808 FARRELL, young lawyer of , 2 m s ,*? e ls * ond 85 a friend. Mark sells his expensive roadster to get money for the honeymoon. He and Norma go to fashionable Blue Springs, Whe re the young man takes delight In luxuries* *** wlt h expensive He Introduces her to HOLLIS STONE. iP,. .? rlend ' and 11 ,s evident from the girl s discomposure that she has known mone before. For some reason she also rears him. She tries to confide In Mark but loses courage. One night Mark Joins a card game and does not return until 3 a. m. He admits he has lost all his money. The young couple face the problem of gettlng money together to pay their hotel bill and buy railroad tickets. Mark wires his mother, but when the answer comes It Is a curt refusal from Mark borrows SSOO from ■Homs Stone and the young couple leave next morning for Marlboro. There °?. stopping at the expenaive Hotel Marlboro. He spends more time with his wealthy Trlends than he does hunting a Job. P£® e AT, r H n . i ? he and Norma meet N-ATA-LiE PRICE, a debutante who before Marx s marriage tried to Invelßle him into a proposal. NOW GO ON WITn THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (Continued) NORMA’s quest for an apartment was more successful than Mark’s search for work. Within two days she had located a “three-in-one” furnished flat—a diminutive arrangement of living room, dressing room, kitchenet and bath. It was in the neighborhood where she and Chris had lived. In a nicer building with more air and sunlight. The rent was $5 higher. Mark stormed a bit at transferring to such an unfashionable neighborhood, but he discovered how rents mounted elsewhere. Besides there was no lease to sign. They could move as soon as he found the right job with a decent salary. Mark, during the second week of their return from Blue Springs, was in a subdued and tractable mood. He let Norma manage details of their installation in the new quarters. He even graciously echoed her enthusiasm over purchases from the “five and ten”—kitchenware, a growing plant in gay orange pot, dishes and yellow and white dimity curtains to brighten the kitchenet. Norma knew that Mark was worried and disturbed. No need to ask when he arrived home at night whether the day had brought “luck.” She cheered him bravely. She was so sure all he needed was his chance in the world. Mark Travers’ method of hunting a job was far from the procedure of most young men seeking work. He never looked at “help wanted” columns in newspapers. He ignored employment agencies. Mark did not consider himself above such things. He was merely self-conscious, entirely without an idea of the business-like way to attack his problem. Each day he went to the club. He dropped into offices where he had acquaintances, sauntered about the old haunts, always in the expectation he would hear of “a good thing.” Making these rounds required that a large amount of time should be spent in careless chatter. Mark was known as a good fellow. He tried to maintain the reputation. tt tt tt HE stood waiting for a car one evening during the hateful rush hour. A fat woman, arms loaded with bundles wedged her way between Mark and the street car. As he stepped back to avoid the sharp-cornered package so near his right eye he heard a familiar whistle. Mark turned. Nat Price's tan roadster was halted less than ten yards away. Nat, clad in bright green, was waving. He made his way to the roadster. The girl called out, “Hop in! I'll give you a lift.” Mark hesitated. “Afraid it would be out of your way, Nat. We’re east now. Franklin avenue.” “Don’t be silly! I can have you there in half the time the car takes. Anyhow, I haven’t seen you in ages!” She swung open the car door and Mark took his place beside her. At

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once the tan roadster shot forward. Ah! this was better than clinging to a swaying street car strap! Nat drove with perfect assurance. She kept up a running fire of talk about the League's new revue, about Sidney’s divorce and Lottie’s wedding. As they stopped before the unimposing apartment the girl turned impulsively: “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you, Mark,” she began. “I want to tell you I think it’s perfectly splendid of you to show your independence the way you have. No matter what any one else says, I’m for you!” Travers flushed. “Thanks, Nat. And thanks for the lift home. Norma and I’ll be seeing you soon.” He stepped from the roadster and saluted as it pulled off down the street. An hour later from the chaise lounge in her boudoir Natalie spoke into a mauve telephone. A servant in the home of Mark’s parents answered. “Yes,” Natalie said silkily, “It’s Mrs. Travers I want to speak to. Tell her Natalie is calling. Something important!” CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO NORMA poured the steaming, fragrant coffee into a yellow cup. She held it across the breakfast table toward Mark. “You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten something,” she said brightly. Norma’s tone was a little too cheerful; she obviously was so trying to be encouraging. Without reply, Mark took the cup and put it down. He was coatless. He had shaved and brushed his hair. He wore a fresh shirt, but no necktie, and his collar was open. Mark frowned at his plate—the perfect picture of a young man who has undertaken to prove sleep an unnecessary evil. “Cream?” Norma offered the pitcher. She was still determinedly cheery. “Don’t want any!” That was definite enough. The three words implied utter disgust with the breakfast, the clear bright morning, the world in general, even Norma. She understood and was silent. They sat at the gateleg table which had been pulled out before the living room windows. Norma resembled a little girl playing at housekeeping. Her rosecolored cotton frock was sleeveless, made with a short; full skirt. There was a crisp yellow-checked cloth over the table and the yellow dishes (bought at the five-and-ten) were Norma’s pride. There was a plate of golden-buttered toast, marmalade, bacon and an egg boiled the exact four minutes which Mark insisted upon. tt a u Lord, Norma!” The exVT clamation was sudden and violent. “Do I have to face a softboiled egg every morning of my life? Is there some kind of law or something that if a guy doesn’t cat seven soft-boiled eggs a week !” “But I thought you liked them! I—oh, I’m sorry! The other day when we had sausages you said you’d rather have eggs. Why didn’t you tell me you were tired of them?” “Anybody’s be tired of them if they never saw anything else!” “You don’t have to eat it. There’s oatmeal—l can fix that ” “Never mind! As long as it’s here I’ll eat it.' Don’t fix anything else! Just because a person likes something once in a while doesn’t mean they want the same thing every day, you know.” Mark’s tone was easier. He was trying to excuse himself for the outburst. "You —you can cook all right, Norma, only you ought to think more about variety. Couldn’t we have grapefruit occasionally instead of oranges? And cantaloupe. That’s better yet.” “It’s out of season. There may be some place in town where I could get cantaloupe, but it would be terribly expensive.” “Or, I see! One of those delicacies that’s not for the undeserving poor. Lot of nerve a dub like me has, speaking of cantaloupes in October—a dub that can’t even earn an honest living! That’s what you’re thinking about me, isn’t it?

Why don’t you say it? Well—why don’t you say it?” a tt tt HE had thrown down the napkin, sprung to his feet. “What makes you talk that way?” Injured appeal in the girl’s voice. She went to him. “Darling, you know I can’t bear to have you say those things! They’re not true!” “Oh, they’re true all right,” Mark stood, handsome and glowering, defying her sympathy. “Everybody knows I’m no good. What’s the use of pretending you don’t know it, too?” “But they don’t know it! They don't know it because it isn’t so! I won’t have you abusing yourself. Darling, you’re going to get a job. Why, maybe this very day ” “Don’t go on with that one! I know the whole speech. Maybe this very minute opportunity is lurking around the corner! Or sitting on the doorstep. “That’s where opportunity sits, isn’t it? All I have to do is put on my hat and coat and go grab it! Sure! Only I won’t do it. I’m a failure. A no-good. The kind of fellow who’d rather stay out nights playing cards and neglecting his wife. “Well, madam, to pay for last night’s little indulgence I have in my vest pocket S4O. It wasn’t there at dinner time Idst night. It’s there now. Forty dollars! “We can eat on that a long while if we don’t waste It on cantaloupes and artichokes and caviare ” Bitter, bitter words one after the other. Bitterness and discouragement and reckless defiance. It had been three weeks since Mark and Norma had returned to Marlooro. During that time the girl often had seen Mark discouraged, but never so bitterly defiant. THERE had been half a dozen nights like the previous one when he had not returned to the apartment until near dawn. There had been times when he had asked her for car fare from the household money. There had been three weeks of difficulty and strain for both Mark and Norma. She had not let him know about the tears shed. She would not let him see her weep this morning! Norma turned to the tiny gas stove. “Your coffee’s cold,” she said steadily. “Wait a minute and I’ll have some more boiling.” Five minutes later Mark was drinking the piping hot beverage. The outburst had ended. He w 7 as subdued and quiet now. Across the table Norma began hesitatingly, “I’ve been thinking, Mark, maybe—l mean just while things are the way they are—l’ve seen some ads in the paper and I have so much time on my hands! “Would you mind if I looked round to see if I could find a job—you know, just something until you’re working?” He let her finish. “That makes it perfect,” Mark said slowly. “That’s the final touch. Well, Norma, you can look for a job any day so far as I’m concerned. “But the day you find one and begin working I walk through that door and don’t come back. I may be a hell of a good-for-nothing, but I’m not quite low enough to live off my wife’s wages. Not yet—!” He halted a moment before the mirror, adjusting his tie. Then Mark picked up hat and coat and left the apartment. U tt 8 SO once more Norma lunched with Chris Saunders. Toward Chris the younger girl turned as toward the last remaining stronghold of courage and comfort. They met in a crowded cafeteria, but the very bustle and hum of the eating place provided privacy. In the drone of hundreds of other voices their confidences were secure. “I—l don’t know what to c'o, Chris!” Norma’s voice rose tremulously with the last words. “We’re not getting anywhere and—oh, I’m so afraid something’s going to happen! (To Be Continued)

STICKERS

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Answer for Saturday

Feed Reaches Italy Day After You. Friday is the day concealed in the mes- ' sage above, as shown by the initial letters of the words. &.

TARZAN, LORD OF THE JUNGLE

In the utter darkness and silence, Blake did not know how long he remained in the dark dungeon beneath King Bohun’s castle. It seemed years to him before approaching footsteps disturbed the dreadful mystery of that buried vault. Now, the flickering light of a pine torch was half blinding his eyes. But soon he saw standing before him two knights. “Yes, ’ti& he,” said one. “Dost thou not know us, Sir Black Knight?” asked the other, after t a pause.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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Blake scanned them closely. He save a great bandage wTapped about the younger man's neck —and then he remembered! “I guess this is where I get mine!” he said wtih a wry smile. “You fellows certainly haven’t come to pin ary medals on me.” “Thou speakest in riddles,” replied the older knight. They were Sir Wildred and Sir Guy, whom Blake had defeated and so chivalrously refused to kill during the combats of the great tcurney.

—By Ahern

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“King Bohun vows he would bum thee at the stake,” said Sir Wildred, “we have come to free ye. Sir Guy and I would not let so valorous a knight be thus shamelessly wronged by any tyrant.” As he spoke, Wildred began to file away the iron rivets that held the prisoner’s chains. “You are helping me to escape?” exclaimed the asMnished Blake. “Suppose you are discovered, won’t it go hard with you when the old hoy finds out?”

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

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We have arranged all that,” replied Wildred. “Sir Guy will be at the outer barbican this night. He can pass thee through, but beyond the city gates, we cannot get thee. There thou must try thy luck.” They smuggled Jimmy through secret passages, gave him food, drink and provided a horse. At midnight with the escorting knights, Blake rode to the castle gates. Here he bade his generous enemies farewell.

PAGE 9

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—-By Crane

—By Small

—By Marlin