Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 157, Indianapolis, Marion County, 10 November 1931 — Page 17

NOV. 10, 1931

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Th „ KOIN here today Vpg tViol^^ 0 rob * * n<l klll ® rich old n_7® JUPITER during thf rngßiMmrnt ulitv iir r oo * v . f for hrr secretary. mar y i^J; KNE ? 1 s - fU to eet the famous Jupiter necklace. v P ?i! lc * d J OD the care. believing Marv'* hrothar. EDnrE. gulltv. Eddie la run car as he goes to meet Marv. BOWEN, police reporter for the Star, discovers Eddie owed monev to a raceJ rrk crook called THE FLY and turna tin Eddies coat, which the butler recognizes as one worn bv a "gate-crasher be elected the night of the muder. .Mary's fiance DIRK RUYTHER forbids her to Investigate further. Thev Plan to marrv at once. Marv .r.eets Bowen In a speakeasv where Bowen savs TJie Flv Is hiding. Dirk, on his wav to lock ud the Jupiter necklace, comes bv to take Mary home. He nroves The Flv is not there. Dirk and Marv are followed bv men In the same make of car that killed Eddie. Bowen stons the thieves bv turning his car In front of theirs. . , Dirk still pooh-poohs the existence of The Flv and Marv goes with Bowen. BRUCE JUPITER returns from Europe with a woman friend. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (Continued) Obviously, she was an imported article; perhaps she was included among Mr. Bruce’s contraband. “Oh, you know what folks brings that comes in on ships,’’ Della spoke as one woman of the world to another. “Or it might be paintin’s. “Mr. Bruce said he’d stay in town till he’d had his exhibit, and then he was goin’ back to the Riveera, and he didn’t care if he never saw America again. He’s stayin’ at the Ritz,” she added irrelevantly, but with obvious relish. Jupiter House was too “country” to suit some of its servants, though its magnificence made that hostelry look pale by comparison. Mary retreated into her own thoughts. Irony, Bruce’s returning just at this time! She ought to rejoice; she was free now to go or stay, as she pleased. She did not take the quarrel between Bruce and his father seriously; it would have been surprising if something of the kind had not taken place, just at first. On the surface, father and son were as unlike as it was possible for two men of the same blood to be, but surely the difference was more artificial than real. When they got a little used to each other, they would get along better. Bruce surely would see his father’s need of companionship. And the old manufacturer would learn -that a man was not emasculate merely because he was an esthete in matters of dress. She would have to take Bruce aside and bequeath him her knowledge of his father’s ways. She wondered if he played cribbage, or if Mr. Jupiter could be converted to chemin-de-fer. Suddenly a wave of heartsickness swept over her that almost rocked her as she stood. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes and bit her lip. Dear Dirk! Darling Dirk! Why didn’t he call up, or come to see her? She couldn’t keep thinking of other people’s affairs forever. Perhaps if she called him—she was halfway to the telephone when it rang. Glad relief swept through her; her voice was almost singing as she answered. “Just reporting in. How’s everything?” It was Bowen. “Oh, everything’s fine,” she lied, finding her voice with difficulty. “What’s new?” "The Fly’s skipped town. I had a hunch he might.” 'Oh —” there was utter despair in her wail. “Then what are we to do?” "Well, Hialeah opens next week. I’ve just about got the boss talked into sending me down there to have a look around. The Fly’s horse was shipped yesterday. He’ll be there, if he’s alive.” n n MARY started to speak but he interrupted her; “Now, listen. Here’s more grief. I don’t suppose anybody on God’s green earth will believe me, especially Ruyther, but I didn’t have a thing to do with this—didn’t know it till the paper came out and then it was too late. Have you seen the papers?” “Which papers. Dreadful suspicions assailed her. “A1 of them. They have copies of Mrs. Jupiter's will. It was filed for probate yesterday ” “What about Mrs. Jupiter’s will?” “Well, don't you know?” “No, no—no one’s told me—l never thought to ask ” “Say, you’re thp coolest proposition I ever saw. Don’t money make any difference to you at all? Why, she left you first choice of her jewels—the rest are to go to her son's wife if he marries, and to you if he doesn't. That makes you half a million ahead —or thereabouts.” Mary said “Wait. Let me think.” She leaned her forehead against the cool metal of the telephone's mouthpiece. Presently, when she could trust herself to speak, she said: “That’s wonderful. But how do you make it half a million—even if the money value were to be considered?” “The necklace, kid, the necklace! Don't tell me you’d pass up a gold mine like that if it’s offered to you!” There was an edge to her voice when she answered: “I don’t know anything about this, but if it’s true I can tell you this—l choose anything else but the necklace! You can tell your paper that!” “All right. But don't get sore at me. I tell you I’ve nothing to do with it.” “Do the papers say I chose the necklace?” “No, they just say—well, get ’em and read ’em yourself. They don’t say anything but what any reasonable human would take for granted.” “Oh, how dare they? Oh, I wish I was sure you had nothing to do with it! Dirk told me —oh—” She was crying now with helpless mortification. For a minute or more the sound of her dry sobs echoed in the telephone. “I’m sorry. I’d have stopped it if I could. But after all, people are bound to speculate about you—you’re in the public eye—you’re young you’re beautiful you’ve got the kind of luck that every shopgirl wishes she had—" “Oh, don’t say any more!” a a THERE was a pause. “All right, Miss Harkness,” Be wen said stiffly. “Sorry I bothered you. But at least, don’t blame me for the Fly skipping townblame that on your high-minded boy friend.” “Dirk? Why, what—” “He must have gone around to Shay’s with a warrant last night after we left. The Fly and his pals —by the way, that mug with him is his chauffeur, the one that did the driving tor him every time—,

anyway, they got out the side door and beat it. “Now Jack’s sore at me—thinks I stooled on him. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t throw Mike out. too, and I’ll have to lay my pipelines all over again. It’ll be years before Jack will trust me with a birth announcement, much less a piece of real news. Well —that’s the breaks—but I could poke that lover of yours. Keep him away from me, if you want him to stay pretty.” Mary came to Dirk’s defense more from a sense of propriety than anything else. She was chagrined, too, but loyalty made her flare: “Don’t talk that way about the man I’m going to marry!” It was a feeble attempt at dignity, but it hit Bowen in the most vital of spots. His jealousy of Dirk. He took a deep breath and howled; “Go ahead and marry him, then, if you like ’em thick-headed!” and slammed up the receiver viciously. When Mary recovered sufficiently to make a retort she found the connection was broken. St tt St L UNCERTAIN whether to laugh ox ) be furious, Mary stood for a minute, then flung away from the telephone. “Della, Della!” she called to what she could see of that lady’s person protruding from an overcrowded closet. “Toss me out a dress—any dress. I’ve got to get out of here and walk off some feelings. “Os all the stupid things, men are the stupidest—all men—this man, and that man, and Lindbergh, and all the rest of them ” “Indeed, you’re right,” Della agreed with warmth. “Here you are. And that reminds me. You’ve a call from Mr. Ruyther. Early this morning it came, but you were asleep.” Mary went white. “But, Della, why didn’t you tell me She was already reaching for the telephone. “Well, it’s not my business, and that new maid’s slower than molasses.”

Mary was clicking the hook impatiently, speaking Dirk’s office number, trying to still the happy tremor in her voice. “Mr. Ruyther, please. Miss Harkness. Dirk?” The pleasant, drawling voice of Stephen Ruyther was speaking: “Got a little news for you, Mary. Tried to get you yesterday, but you were out. Jupiter tell you his wife left a will? Better come in and see me when you can. Little bequest for you in it.” “Oh, I know all about that, Mr. Ruyther. I thought you were Dirk. Dirk there? Can I talk to him?” “Why—” he hesitated, embarrassed. “Dirk went away on a little business trip. Didn’t he tell you?” CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR TWO utterly miserable people faced each other down the length of the great Jacobean din-ner-table that night . . . that nighi which should have held particular happiness for both of them. Each was resolved heroically to keep troubles from the other, but their woe-begone faces would have told the tale, even if the loquacious Della had not. “You’re looking a little peaked,” Jupiter ventured. “Better come along to Bermuda with me next week.” Mary raised stricken eyes at the word “Bermuda.” “I’m all right,” she murmured, politely. Jupiter cleared his throat explosively, and set his melon aside untasted. “Don’t know as this is the time to speak of it but I talked to Ruyther about that matter this morning.” His voice was still hoarse with emotion. “It’s all settled. Makes you my heir. “Bruce will be taken care of—enough for a man that lives the rattle-brained life he does. But none o’ them French hussies will get my money! I’ve got no son, but by God, there’s no law that says I can’t have a daughter!” As the whole import of this sudden announcement made itself clear to her, Mary threw out her hands involuntarily. “Oh, no!” she cried. “You mustn’t do that! You mustn’t!” “Eh? Why not?” Apparently he had never dreamed that his offer could be refused. His stare of amazement was almost a glare. Not in many years had any one crossed him in any major respect; he was utterly taken back. n a a “ r T''HAT isn’t fair to Bruce!” Even A as she was protesting the injustice of such arrangement, Mary’s hear began to pound dizzily. To be the Jupiter heiress! She could only dimly apprehend as yet what it would mean to be mistress of so many millions, to have the world to play in, to be free forever of the poverty that had put her at the mercy of the Cornelia Tabors of the world these last few years. To be free to choose Dirk for a husband as he had chosen her, and not to feel like a beggar-maid who always must be humbly grateful to her King Cophetua! To receive the unwilling deference of Emily Ann Ruyther, who, like most snobs, usually found it difficult to be uncivil to a great deal of money. Mary felt as if she had been taken up into a high place and shown the kingdoms of the world. Had she really the strength to refuse them? The old man was growing apoplectically in his throat, moving the silver about agitatedly. When he had calmed himself, he said: “We’ll say no more about Bruce. I have the two greatest griefs to bear that can come to a man—my wife and my son are dead.” He was almost weeping. u n n FEAR for him, in his present highly emotional state, tied the girl’s tongue. It semed foolish to try to convince him by the usual platitudes, that this violent repercussion was only natural, that a little familiarity between father and son would smooth away the sharp edges of their differences, bring them back together again. She forsook the subject of Bruce for the time being. “Very well,” she said quietly. “If you're sure you want to do that. You've always been kind to me, but this seems—too much, somehow. I’ve never done anything to deserve so much. I’ve no right to it, really. If Jpu change jour mind—”

“It’s all settled. And it ain’t so much. Not half of what people think,” he flashed warily. “And time the taxes are paid and all. you won’t be so rich you’ll bend your back carrying it.” This was pure swank, Mary knew, but she let him say it. If it pleased him to belittle his wealth, it was a pleasure he could afford. “I ask only one thing,” she said soberly. “That nothing be said about it just yet. No one must know.” He was obviously disappointed but he agreed, grugdingly. It would have been infinitely soothing to that long-festering wound to his pride and his affections which his son’s way of life had dealt him to let the world know that Bruce was to be punished. In his own peculiar self-suffi-ciency, Bruce had always evaded him. This was the only way the father could hurt him. Mary knew that Mr. Jupiter was heartsick over the open break with Bruce, from the listless tone with which he spoke of his yacht, for the '"Gypsy” was the dearest toy he owned. “I’ve got Hendricks,” he said, “and he won’t take on anybody I wouldn’t. Good man. Good navigator, good pilot. And a damn good mechanic. “Don’t often find that in a seagoing man. We’ll get away the first of the week.” Go away from New York, leave Dirk—? Mary’s heart cried out '.hat she couldn’t, no matter how unfairly he had behaved toward her. “X7’ ou make up a party,” the old X man persisted, with forced cheerfulness. “Ask anybody you like. We’ve got cabins for fifteen. Maybe Steve Ruyther and his wife can get away; do him good. “Shut you up a few weeks with that wife of his and maybe you’ll decide you don’t want to get married, eh?” He squinted at her, in a feeble attempt at humor. “Maybe I won’t get married, anyway,” Mary said. “Well, plenty of time. You’re young. You get ready and we’ll stop off in Miami and see some other young folks ” Miami! Mary’s indifference vanished. She sat up, electrified by the thought that came to her. Miami was Florida, and Hialeah must be somewhere about. The Fly would be at Hialeah! “When can we start?” she asked eagerly. “Will we be in Miami by the 16th?” Her sudden enthusiasm puzzled Jupiter, but he was pleased to see that he had succeeded in “perking her up.” “I reckon so,” he answered. “Why? Somebody down there you want to see?” She laughed excitedly. “I should say so! How long will we stay?” “Why, long as you like, two—three weeks, I suppose. Danged if I’ll open the house, though. Always hated the thing—looks like an oil station. “No vacation for me—go all the way to Miami and live in an oil station! We’ll live on the Gypsy.” nan HE was avoiding the palatial Spanish “cottage” which had been Mrs. Jupiter’s favorite among her various homes, because her memory was too vivid there. Mary knew. But she did not care; the “Gypsy” suited her purposes even better. A plan of almost diabolical cunning had occurred to her! As she rapidly thought out its details, she knew that she must speak to Mr. Jupiter about it now, for certain preparations would have to be made beforehand, to insure safety all round —for herself, for the necklace when it was in her possession, and possibly for the old man himself. She might take chances herself but she would never again take Dhances on behalf of anyone else — the load of responsibility she already bore was heavy enough. At her earnest request, they left the almost untouched meal and adjourned to the library, safe from the avid ears of the servants. There, as clearly as she could. Mary set forth the facts she and Bowen had gathered about The Fly. It was not a conclusive show of evidence, but it was strong. It needed a final link to make it impregnable—that final link could only be The Fly’s confession. There was still the chance—she did not admit it, but it was there—that though it had been the Fly’s gun with which Mrs. Jupiter was shot, Edide’s hand had fired it. If that were true, she wanted to know it, but she did not want other people to know it if it could be helped. So they must do without the police, for notoriety followed when one dealt with the police—she had found that out. (To Be Continued)

Crossword Puzzle and Sticklers on Page 8

TARZAN AT THE EARTH'S CORE

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At last the terrific storm ceased. Pellucidar’s sun burst forth upon a streaming world. The three beast-men arose and shook themselves. Then Tarzan saw that the torrential rain had erased every trace of the spoor they had been following. Foot by foot, they clambered upwards toward the higher peaks. But nowhere did the ape man find the slightest sign to show him that either Jana or Jason had come this way.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

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Thoar led them over the trackless waste of granite, along such dizzy heights that Tarzan was astonished that any of them came through alive. Upon a bleak summit they had robbed a thipdar’s nest of its eggs and the three were eating them, when Thoar became suddenly alert and listening. To the ape-man’s ears came faintly a distant sound resembling the dismal flapping of wings. “A thipdarsaid Shear, “and there is no shelter for us!”

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“There are three of us,” said Tarzan. “What have we to fear?” “You do not know the thipdars,” said Thoar. “They are hard to kill and they are never defeated until they are killed.” “How do you know it will attack us?” asked the ape-man. “It is coming in our direction,” replied Thoar. “it can not help but see us, and whatever a thipdar sees, it attacks. I wish we had a tree’s shelter.” “See, it comes!” cried Tar-gsih, fearfully.

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Down to their ears came a sound resembling the escaping of steam. “It has seen us!” cried Thcar. Tarzan took a handful of arrows from his quiver and fitted onn to his bow. Tar-gash swung his club slowly to and fro and growled. Or came the giant dragon, the flapping of its immense wings mingled with a loud and angry hiss. The three men waited, poised, ready, expectant. There were no preliminaries. The mig Jjifcy creature drove straight toward the™

PAGE 17

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin