Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 159, Indianapolis, Marion County, 12 November 1931 — Page 27

NOV. 12, 1931.

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begin here today _MA£YHARICXESB undertakes to trap 77’ ,i. -* Y who she believes ••framed” her trn her, n iffPPtE. with the murder of MRa. JUPITER, and later ran Eddie m n * n< * fc'lkd him to keep him from tellln*. As bait ahe plans to use the famous £P, D, t*r nc klaee of rubies, which the murderer failed to eet. ..She is aided bv BOWEN of the Star. Marys fiance, DIRK RUYTHIR. and hi* family *too the official investigation, Qhjectlnir to the notoriety. They believe Eddie cull tv. BRUCE JUPITER, absent many years, returns from Europe with a woman friend. His father orders him out and makes Mary his heir. Bruce swears to rout Mary, who he thinks is a golddlßßer. 4 M* r 7 ar) d Dirk quarrel because Dirk is Jealous of Bowen and refuses to believe in the existence of The Fly. Dirk foes about again with his former sweetheart. CORNELIA TABOR, who is try‘hg to win him back. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (Continued) “Regard me as a rival if you like. Regard me as anything you please. I don’t want your money. But if you let that brunet Garbo take you away from your father again, 111 take it! That’s my threat and I’m glad to be able to enforce it.” “Ah-ah!” Bruce cried. “I remember you now! I’ve been puzzling over where I’d seen you. You were the girl in the elevator at the hotel last night—with the man who held the whisky bottle, so! Louise spoke of it at the time.” He laughed, delightedly. “Prohibition has its amusing aspects to a European!” Then he added, “Does my father know about last night? It was a rendezvous, of course!” Mary turned on her heel and left him. She did not want to be drawn into an open quarrel with him. They would have to live in very close quarters on the “Gypsy” and it would crowd that small craft to hold them both as it was. - She urged the surprised Betsy to a. brisk gallop going into town. Having dropped her letter, she felt better. Both she and her mount were content to take the long hill road home at a sedate walk, letting the cool air and the bright autumn scene heal her anger. As they passed the Tabor grounds, Mary’s head jerked quickly about for a second glance at the tall, white-shirted figure who leaped to meet Cornelia Tabor’s swift serves with a lightning racket. Her heart drained utterly of blood as she recognized Dirk. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX. THE “Gypsy” was made ready to sail on Tuesday. Monday night Mary had a telephone call from Dirk. He just had received her letter, he said. “Did you want to see me?” he asked formally. “Why, yes,” Mary replied. “Don’t you—want to see me?” There was a short wait before he answered, “Os course. Shall I come over?” He was setting a distance between them, but then it was he whose feelings had been injured. They would talk it over and It would be all right. Mary dressed without any particular enthusiasm. Dirk was coming now, but tomorrow she would be gone. It was a rather hollow sort of happiness she felt, but it was better than not seeing Dirk at all. When he came, he sat down beside her casually, but made no move to touch her. Mary felt the least bit rebuked. He looked worried and strained, and her heart went out to him. “I’m sorry I left you like that,” she said gently. “I know,” he said. “That’s all right.” Another silence fell. “I had to know about those fingerprints. Whether they were The Fly’s,” she explained. “I couldn’t wait. Haven’t you ever felt that way?” He shrugged. “I suppose you were anxious, of course,” he said. “What did you find out?” “They were his. The Bertillon men at police headquarters checked them.” Dirk cleared his throat. “You understand, don’t you, that the gun’s being his doesn’t prove conclusively that it was The Fly who fired it? It was the murder gun, of course; I’ve had it in the hands of ballistic experts, and there’s no doubt about that part. “But—l don’t mean to hurt your feelings again —but how can you prove it was The Fly who was the

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murderer, rather than—than someone else?” “We can’t. We’re not even trying to. The Fly himself will do that for us.” “If you’re lucky.” “If we’re lucky. And if we play our cards just right. But the least slip, the least word—and it’s all spoiled. It’s possible that’s happened already. You aren’t very popular with George Bowen just now. The Fly’s left town, you know.” Dirk looked at her in bewilderment. “I’m not popular? What’ve I to do with it?” "Didn’t you go back to Shay’s with a warrant for him?” “Certainly not.” “Well—! Then who—■?” This was anew state of affairs. Somebody else on The Fly’s trail? Who could it be? “Bowen naturally supposed it was you,” she faltered apologetically. “You’d just been saying the thing to do was arrest The Fly and when the police came down on the place Bowen jumped to the conclusion—” “He does a good deal of that, I’m thinking,” Dirk commented dryly. a a a MARY was in no mood to resent anything Dirk might say against the absent Bowen. She was too mystified—too busy speculating. “Who do you think it could have been?” she asked. “He’s probably got a dozen rackets,” Dirk replied. “The cops might be after him for any one of them. Or it might be for some fool thing parking overtime. “He ran, like they all do. They don’t like a pinch, even for a minor offense—it’s bad for their rackets.” Considerable wind had been taken out of Mary’s sails by this discovery, but she was none the less regretful that it had taken place. The Fly was gone and what assurance had she that she could find him again? Nothing but Bowen’s guess—and Bowen could be wrong, as this slip-up showed. For a moment she felt panicky—she was committed to so much, just on the strength of that chance that The Fly would show up at the track when his horse ran her big race. If he were really frightened, he might stay away. Although he would probably feel himself safe enough. Unless the offense were a serious one, extradition from Florida would be more than the New York police would trouble with. The idea that the Fly’s arrest had been sought by Inspector Kane occurred to her, but was instantly dismissed. In her last interview with him he had been so emphatically disinterested in following up the case, that such a decided change in his point of view seemed unlikely. Kane had been “bought off,” and he would stay that way, she was sure. He was the sort of bootlicker to do just that. Well, she was sailing in the morning, probably on a wild-goose chase, but she couldn’t back out now. How would she feel, though, once she had spread this elaborate web she was spinning, and seated herself in the center of it with the gleaming Jupiter rubies as bait, if The Fly failed to appear? She almost wished she had not embarked on such an insane adventure. Much better to remain safely at home where women belonged and have no thoughts of one’s own—then one could not be mistaken, and deservedly laughted at. a a a DIRK put his hand on hers, looked earnestly into her face. “Why not forget it?” he begged. “I wish I could,” she murmured unhappily. “But— we’ve made so many plans you’ve no idea what preparations have been made. There’s even a dictograph in his cabin —the cabin we’re keeping for him —” Dirk jerked his hand away. “My God, you’re not going to take that—that—animal on board? Associate with him? Why, he’s scum! If he’s no more than a gigolo, he’s not the sort you ought to be seen with! “I’d trust him no more than I’d trust a snake. For all you know he may be a bank robber—a thief —an impostor of the worst order—”

“A murderer,” Mary supplied gently. “Even a murderer,” Dirk agreed hotly. “I won’t have him around you! By txeorge, I thought old Jupiter had some sense, but—” “You talk,” she interrupted, as if I were going to be the only one on the boat. There’ll be Bruce, and the Countess, besides Mr. Jupiter and the crew—” “The Countess? Who’s she?” “My chaperon, darling. And if you don’t think that’s funny, you should know her. She’s a friend of Bruce’s. “I mustn’t tell you all I surmise about her or you’ll think I’m as bad as that Town Tattle chap . . . gossiping away without anything to prove it. But I do think she’s the reason Bruce has stayed in Europe —one of the reasons. “She hates New York and Americans. She came over only to protect her property—to see that no smart young debutante grabbed up her Brucey-boy and ran off with him to the altar. So far he’s had sense enough not to marry her. But how she hates me!” Mary made a wry face. “Good Lord,” said Dirk, in distaste, "why should she hate you?” “She thinks I’m after the Jupiter money. Worse—she thinks I’ve already bagged it. J. J. worked himself into such a fury at Bruce that, out of spite as much as anything else, he made anew will . . a a a ■pvIRK stared. “So that’s what the old boy was doing in the office bright and early Saturday morning!” “Yes. Didn’t your father tell you?” “No.” He seemed strangely discomfited. “But then— I haven’t seen him alone since. I left while Jupiter was there.” “Yes, I know. Your father said you’d gone away for the weekend.” She felt again the stab of jealousy that had gone through her at the sight of Bruce, on Cornelia Tabor’s tennis court. Dirk looked at her cautiously, but said nothing. Mary tried to keep her manner casual, her tone light. “Did you have a good time? I’m terribly jealous, of course. You know that,” she said banteringly. Dirk fished for a cigaret, leaned back. “You needn’t be,” he returned indifferently. “It wasn’t a pleasure trip. It was stern duty.” “Duty?” Indignation got the better of her. "It was your duty to play tennis with Cornelia Tabor?” Apparently it did not surprise him much that she knew where he had been. "Not that, exactly. But the rest of it was. Politeness sentenced me to two days at hard labor, nothing less. "Con called me—she was desperate and I pretty well had to go. Some flame of Ethel’s had disappointed her at the last minute and she had to have another man.” a a a was coldly furious. “That’s a likely story of Con’s —I don’t believe a word of it,” she exclaimed angrily. “She just wanted to get you there.” “You’re crazy,” Dirk rejoined mildly. “No, it was ( true enough. It was that count chap Ethel met in the speakeasy. She’s been chasing him ragged. Finally she got him to say he’d come for the weekend. “He made Connie tell him who the guests were to be. She had to read the list to him before he’d say he’d come. Rotten little snob. Can you beat it?” “Well, why didn’t he come, then? Did the Vanderbilts steal him or what?” She wasn’t really interested, but she wanted to believe well of both Dirk and Connie if she could. This crazy jealousy that flamed up whenever she saw the two together or heard Dirk speak Connie’s name was like a painful sickness. She wanted to be inoculated against it if possible. And perhaps it was true ... a capricious houseguest like Ethel ... a manless emergency . . . and Connie always depended on Dirk like a brother . . perhaps there was no guile there. “She should have asked me, too, though,” she was thinking rebelliously. “Oh, he’s out of little Ethel’s life for good,” Dirk explained. “Called home to Argentina td settle his estate or something. She’ll never see him again, and a darn good thing. “Con’s mother was worried sick for fear Ethel would elope with him.” a a a HE was holding her hand and stroking it gently with the other, just as he always did. Was it absent-mindedness, or had his stiffness melted for good? (To Be Continued)

Sticklers on Page 25

TARZAN AT THE EARTH'S CORE

/SsX

Tarzan, as he hung limply in the dragon’s claws, knew he could never escape in midair. His one hope was to retain consciousness and the powder to fight when the creature came to the ground with him. He knew that some birds of prey killed their victims by dropping them from great heights. As he watched the panorama of mountain peaks passing below he hoped that this was not the habit? of the pteranodons of Pellucidar,

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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The ape-man realized that he was being carried a considerable distance from the spot where he had been seized; pei'.iaps twenty miles. The flight at last carried them across a frightful gorge. A short distance beyond this the pteranodon circled a lofty granite peak toward which it slowly dropped. And there, below him, Tarzan of the Apea saw a nest of small thipdars that rested upon the very summit of a lofty granite spire.

—By Ahem

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As the dragon neared its brood Tarzan saw the wide, distended jaws of the baby thipdars as they eagerly awaited the flesh that their savage parent was bringing to them.' The nest covered but a few square yards and on all sides of it the walls of the mountain peak dropped in a perpendicular line for hundreds of feet. Tarzan’s heart beat faster as he realized that this w4s, indeed, a precarious place for him to stagti a battle for life.

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Cautiously, Tarzan of the Apes drew his keen hunting knife from its sheath. Slowly his left hand crept upward against his body and passed over his shoulder until his fingers encircled the scaly, bird-like ankle just above the claws. The dragon was. descending slowly toward Its nest. The hideous demons bqlow were screaming and hissing in anticipation. Tarzan’s feet were almost in their jaws when he struck suddenly upward with his blade at the breast of the thipdar.

PAGE 27

—By Williams

—By Blosser 1

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin