Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 113, Indianapolis, Marion County, 19 September 1931 — Page 7

SEPT. 19,1931.

iGUILTY® LIPS LAURA LOU BROOKMAN

BEGIN HERE TODAY _ Pretty NORMA KENT 20-vear-old secfttary, marries MARK TRAVERS, son of M TRAVERS, millionaire real estate realer. In spite of the father’* opposition and threat* to disinherit Mark. The storv opens in Marlboro, middle western metropolis. Mark sells his expensive roadster to act monev for the honevmon and he and Norma eo to fashionable Blue Bnrlnar*. There Norma meets HOLLIS STONE, and it la evident from the Kiri's manner that she has known Stone before and for aome reason seems to fear him Their monev soon Is Kone, partly due to Mark's gambling. With *SOO borrowed from Stone the counle returns to Marlboro. Mark sets out on a round of pleasure seeking Instead of huntlnK a lob. He Introduces Norma to NATALfE PRICE, a debutante who has long hoped to marrv Mark. When their funds dwindle again. Mark and Norma move to a cheap apartment. Mark begins to hunt work seriously. He gets one Job and loses It. Then he becomes a floorwalker in Blossomdaie's department store. Norma practices rigid economies at home. When Mark's mother comes to call on them and urges the voung man to seek reconciliation with his father Mark refuses. He and Norma spend a happy Thanksgiving Dav together. Next morning Norma. on a shopping trip, hears a familiar Voice beside her. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN She had errands to attend to downtown and was anxious to finish them and be home by noon. The street car was crowded and Norma found a seat immediately. That was because the morning rush had ended. She rode to Broad street and Eighth avenue and then left the car. Norma walked rapidly. Mentally she was reviewing her list of purchases—first the saucer to replace the one she had broken, then the oil cloth and the yard of ribbon — Her thoughts were interrupted by a shrill, familiar voice. a a a THE two girls had almost reached Norma. One of them was talking eagerly. It was the shrill, highpitched voice that caught her attention. where had she heard that voice before? Norma glanced from one face to the other. The taller girl, the one whose voice seemed familiar, wore a green suit with luxurious collar and trimming bands of dark fur. Her companion was in brer. n. Another instant and they were beside her. The girl in green looked directly at Norma. A fleeting change of expression crossed her face. In that instant Norma recognized Natalie Price. “Oh—how do you do!” Natalie’s voice dropped to a cooing sweetness. Her dark brows arched with their subtle hint of aloofness. Norma, startled, said, “How do you do?” The girls passed. Norma stood at the edge of the sidewalk, about to step down when the traffic light flashed from red to green. She heard Natalie Price’s quick, high-pitched voice floating backward. “That” my dear, was Mark Travers’ wife!” She heard the other girl’s credulous, “No—but, Nat, such funny clothes!” The rest of the words were lost. Six words spoken by a strangerwhy should Norma feel those six words were to scorch their way into her brain and remain forever? Six words! But it wasn't the words that brought quick, hot circles to Norma's cheeks. It was the way they were spoken. As though for Norma to be Mark Travers’ wife was something beyond belief. How dare they. sneer at her "funny clothes?” Because she was trying to help Mark to save his money—was that something for these girls who had everything to laugh at? “Funny clothes!” Her coat and hat were not funny! They were plain and cheap and the sort that hundreds of girls who worked in downtown offices wore. Norma was suddenly bitterly angry. Her small gloved hands dug into her coat pockets. Oh, what could she do to show Natalie Price and those others how little she cared for what they said or did? What could she do to let them know that if she wore cheap clothing it was their thoughts that were cheap, their ill-manners and discourtesy that were ugly? tt tt tt THE street signal flashed red, but Norma was so preoccupied she did not notice it for several moments Then she realized the

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others about her had gone on. She crossed the street hurriedly “Funny clothes” that girl had jeered. Norma caught the reflection of herself in a plate glass window Well, she probably looked j “funny” to Natalie Price’s crowd because her coat wasn't an exclusive ; creation from Fanchon’s or Monet’s Her hat, too—that was “funny ’ ; because it had been bought from a ; bargain table and reshaped accord- ! ing to Norma’s own taste She forgot her morning’s errands ■ and walked a block past the flve- ; and-ten store where she was to be- | gin her purchases. “What right has Natalie Price to j set herself up as a Judge of other - people?” Norma raged inwardly. | “What has she ever done to make herself better than any one else?’” She knew without need to hesi- ; tate the answers to those questions. I Natalie’s father was rich. Natalie I was “in society,” her name and pic- ! tures in newspaper society columns | frequently. But those were not the things that mattered. What gave Natalie | Price her tremendous advantage : was the fact she belonged to the I life Mark always had known before | his marriage. If Natalie sneered at Mark's bride it meant others would I do so.

Was she so pitifully a failure? Was she a hindrance to Mark? “But he married me!” Norma told herself defensively. “He knew Natalie first and instead he married me.” The mood burned only a little less fiercely when later she stood at a counter piled high with dishes and selected a blue-flowered saucer to take the place of the one she had broken, lucky to find the same pattern in stock. Well, the oil cloth was next on the list. Norma moved across the store. She was buying 5 and 10-cent supplies for Mark’s kitchen while Natalie Price and her friend might be trying on gowns that cost hundreds of dollars, fur coats worth fabulous sums. “Oh, what do I care!” Norma told herself a little too insistently. She was remembering that only yesterday she had declared nothing was lacking from her happiness. That was when Mark had praised the Thanksgiving dinner she had cooked. She said to the blonde girl behind the counter, “I want a yard and a half of that blue oil cloth. No, the plain piece ” St tt tt MARK TRAVERS looked up as the newcomer leaned his elbows on the lunch counter. “Why Johnson! I’m a bluenosed bajaoon if it isn’t the old boy himself! How’re you, Johnson?” The newcomer drew back and thrust out a hand in greeting. “Glad to see you, Mark,” he said heartily. “This is a surprise! Didn’t recognize you when I came in. I—l’m very well, thank you. Looking first-rate yourself!” Mark laughed. “Sure, I'm O. K. Tell me, Johnson, how’s the old place bobbing along? Miss me down there?” They were sitting at a drug store lunch counter. -A half-consumed sandwhich lay on the plate before Mark. He raised a heavy porcelain cup to his lips. The man beside him was middleaged. He wore a gray hat and dark overcoat. Beneath the rim of the hat the close-clipoed hair showed a grayish tinge. Johnson had the manner of a quiet, efficient man who has spent most of his life executing other men’s orders. He had done that. Johnson for fifteen years had been a reliable cog in the smoothly operating mechanism building up F. M. Travers’ real estate holdings and F. M. Travers’ annual dividends. At 55 Johnson was in charge of the department to which Mark had so casually and briefly lent his services the few months he had been in his father’s employ. And at 55 Johnson received a salary considerably less than that which had been paid to Mark. Traditional homage to all persons and things associated with the name Travers colored George Johnson’s voice. “Oh, we’re getting on about as

usual,” he answered Mark’s question. “Never very much change, you know. Yes, indeed, we miss you.” Tne big boy in the white coat across the counter paused significantly almost belligerently in front of Johnson. “Whassa order?” he demanded *n a voice with a nasal quality. Johnson hesitated. “Let me see —.” He studied the menu chalked on the mirror-lined wall. “A fried egg sandwich,” he announced. “And coffee. No cream, please. And apple pie!” a tt a THE order given, he turned again to Mark. "You know, I’m really glad to see you,” he repeated. “We’ve missed you. I read —er, about your marriage. Os course I wish you and Mrs. Travers every happiness.” “Thanks. Guess I haven’t really been missed around the office, though. Little enough I ever did there.” “But you’d been with us such a short time. You were getting the thing very well—doing splendidly—” Mark was not interested. He interrupted. “Tell me, how’s dad looking?” “Oh, he’s well. About as he always is, I should say.” “Glad to hear it. You probably know a certain unpopularity rests about his one and only son—” “Oh, I’m sorry! To tell the truth I had heard a little something of the sort. But it will clear away, I’m sure. It will clear away in just a little time.” Mark’s eyes suddenly had rested on the clock across the room. He was on his feet, reached in his pocket and shoved some coins across the counter. “Got to beat it!” he exclaimed. “Got to be back at 1:15. See you again soon, Johnson, S’long!” Before his companion could frame a reply the outer door swung shut on Mark’s departing back. A girl in a red coat climbed on the seat the young man had vacated. Johnson looked futiiely over one shoulder, readjusted his spectacles and attacked the wedge of pie. tt tt tt THAT night Mark spoke to Norma about meeting his former associate. “Funny old duck,” he described Johnson. ‘Goodhearted, though.” Mark was wondering rather vaguely just why he had been so pleased to see the older man. It had also occurred to Mark, as it had not previously, that it was strange for Johnson to lunch in a place so fai removed from the real estate company’s headquarters. Oh, well—he probably liked to get away from the place occasionally. It was the third day afterward that Mark, entering the drug store lunch room, heard his name called. He glanced about. There on the third chair from the end of the row sat Johnson. “Hello!” Mark sang back cheerfully. “Getting to be a steady customer, aren’t you?” He climbed on the nearest seat. “I was hoping to find you here,” George Johnson said earnestly. “I’ve something to tell you, Mark—” “That so?” Surprise In the young man’s voice. “Well, let’s have it.” “It’s a message from your father.” “What’s he got to say? Why doesn’t he say it himself?” ‘He asked me—that is, I came because—” “Look here! Did my father really send you to tell me something?” tt tt tt JOHNSON gulped as though his task was uncomfortable. Ha nodded affirmatively as he said, “He wants to see you, Mark. He asked me to tell you that.” “Wants to see me? You mean he sent you to say that?” “He asked me to tell you he wants to see you about an important matter. What that may be I wasn’t informed. (To Be Continued)

iTKKEftS PAIRS MORE PANELS The letters of each word can be rearranged to form the name of a different European cjty. Can you discover these three cities? Answer for Yesterday HANDLE WITH CARE * The same letters as were used in the sentence, “IT CAN WHEEL HARD,” can he switched about to form the threeword sentence shown above. - *

TARZAN, LORD OF THE JUNGLE

I■—III IHI I I L | II I I • B

“We are the Waziri of Tarzan,” said the leader, “searching for our chief and master.” Blake could have wept for joy. Meanwhile the apeman, with the golden lion, had intercepted Ibn Jad and terrified the Arabs into turning back with the stolen treasure. Thus it was that the advancing Waziri met Tarzan with Ibn Jad's bedraggled party, took over the prisoners, and the custodjypof the jewels and gold from the valley of th_* Sepulcher.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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SALESMAN SAM

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Great was the rejoicing between the reunited friends. Zeyd held his beloved Ateja in his arms once more. Deprived of their loot, Ibn Jad and his men were under guard of theWaziri. Tarzan had decided for Ateja’s sake, not to punish her father but to send the band home to their desert. But happiest of all was Jimmy Blake when Tarzan told him that the Princess Guinalda, was safe in her father’s cas&e.

—By Ahern OUT OUR WAY

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A dozen times was the ape-man forced to repeat to Blake the parting message of the Princess before the young American could believe it. An’ thou findst him, tell him the gates of Nimmr be open to him and Guinalda awaits his coming.” The following morning the Waziri prepared to take up their march south toward the country of Tarzan. Blake, dressed again in his iron mail, bestrode his charger as the column started down the trail, Tarzan and the golCen lion stood beside him.

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Blake reached down and extended his hand to the ape-man. “Good-bye, sir.’* he said, “and thank you a thousand times.” "Good bye?” demanded Tarzan.. “Aren’t you coming home with us?” Blake shook his head. “No,” he answered, “I’m going back into the middle ages with the woman I love!” Tarzan and Jad-bal-ja stood in the trail watching Sir James as he rode toward the City of Nimmr, the blue and silver of his pennon fluttering bravely from the iron tip on his great lance,

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—By Williams

—By Blosser:

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin