Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 257, Indianapolis, Marion County, 5 March 1932 — Page 5

MARCH 5, 1032

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BEGIN HERE TODAY Beautiful ELLEN RO66ITER. employed at Barclay* department itore, works night. as a dance hall hostess. She lire* with her mother. MOLLY RO6BITER; her elder sister. MYRA; and her voune brother. MIKE _ „ STEVEN BARCLAY. S7, and owner o! Barclay's, la In love with Ellen. Twice she refuses to msrrv him because she Jotes handsome LARRY HARROWGATE. an artist she has met at the dance hall She loves him despite the fact that his engagement to ELIZABETH BOWES, a debutante has been announced Ellen agrees to Dose for Larrv At hU studio, she see* s Dhotograoh of Elizabeth Bowes He explains caauallv that Elizabeth Is a friend. Ellen decide* to break with Larrv. but he comes again td the dance hall and asks her to lunch with him and his mother the following dav For the first time he kisses her. Next dav at the store she receive!. * note saving he will be unable to keen the date. Heart-broken Ellen reads In a newspaper socletv column that Elizabeth Bows has returned from Europe NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (Continued) Myra chopped ice for the tea and made thin bread and butter sandwiches. Ellen sliced chilled tomatoes, cucumbers and onions and daintily rubbed the salad bowl with n button of garlic, spread on the end of a fork. "It’s nice to have you back again,” Myra observed, smiling at her sister’s cautious efforts to avoid being smeared with the garlic. “Funny, I have the same sort of feeling,” Ellen said absently. "We don’t seem to have had any real talks for weeks. It’s been too hot for anything.” "Well, it will be September soon.” “It’s hard to belfeve that it will ever snow again and that we’ll freeze running for the subway, isn’t It?” * 0 ELLEN sighed at the thought of chrysanthemums and football games and days when hot chocolate would seem delicious. Incredible tonight that great fires would roar again, that snow would come pelting through the air, that violets would be worn on furs! "Is everything all right—now?” Myra asked lightly after a long absorbed silence. Ellen felt a familiar stab of pain. "It seems to be,” she said carefully. “But I don’t know—it may be the heat. I couldn’t at the moment shed a tear if all New York fell to ruins and you and I with it.” She poured olive oil and cider vinegar into the yellow mixing bowl and sprinkled paprika with a lavish hand. As she began the blending, she remarked with studied carelessness: “Miss Bowes Is back from Europe.” "I saw it in the paper,” Myra replied unwillingly. "But you don’t care so much do you, honey?” "Oh, no, I don’t care." Ellen went at the salad dressing with such vigor that the oil and vinegar separated and she had to bind them together with an egg. She made so much noise that further conversation was impossible. But when the dressing was blended and perfect she spoke once more, carelessly this time. "Steven Barclay asked me to marry him again today.” “That’s not news,” Myra laughed, covering the awkwardness she felt. "The news is,” Ellen remarked somberly, “that a single feather would have shoved me over the edge and I’d have accepted.” "There's no sense advising peo-

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ple,” Myra began, “but just the same, I’m going to put in my oar. I think honestly that women whose husbands love them too much are usually happier than when—well, when it’s the other way around,” she concluded. "Maybe,” Ellen responded briefly. They decided to eat in the kitchen because the room was cool. Molly came in presently, dewy-eyed and freshly bathed. Mike burst in from the street, his face red as fire, his hair almost burnt straw color. Ellen never had seen him look so well. The bicycle had succeeded in doing what all their concerted efforts had been unable to accomplish. That shining toy had torn Mike away from his endless reading. Oft* TONIGHT he was bubbling with plans to spend the money he had earned running errands for the corner grocery. It was his first job and already he had more than S3. Apparently, he meant with this sum, to buy out Tiffany’s to deck the women of his household. He was fairly bursting with masculinity and pride as he described to Ellen the necklace he had picked out for her. “That’s grand,” she said enthusiastically. "But suppose, right now, you wash your face and hands for dinner.” As he dashed off, Molly, who was sitting on the window sill and languidly fanning herself, shot a triumphant glance at Ellen. “Now admit it,” she commanded gaily. “You were wrong about the bicycle.” "I suppose I was,” Ellen conceded. “I’ve certainly never seen Mike look so well.” "The best of it is he’s away from that street gang now,” Molly continued happily. “He’s well and busy and full of fun.” “Hush, here he comes,” Myra interrupted. "Don’t you think, Ellen,” Molly asked quickly, slipping in a last hasty question, “that you might be wrong about other things, too?” Ellen continued to pull up the chairs. She did not answer. They gathered about the porcelain, table that looked out on the fire escape and Ellen’s geraniums. They talked languidly, laughed occasionally and passed back and forth the bread and butter sandwiches while outside the hot twilight slid into hot, velvety night. Molly had shaken off her momentary pettishness. She was proud of both girls and of her young son. "This isn’t so bad,” said Myra at last, yawning. “Rather nice, in fact,” Ellen agreed, sipping the last dregs of the iced tea. "Do you know, I think good luck has come to us at last,” Myra continued, half jestingly. "The insurance is almost paid again. Ellen’s about to give up that horrible job at Dreamland and she’s had a grand boost at Barclay’s. Fair weather ahead.” "Certainly we’d had our share of bad luck,” Molly sighed wistfully, sending a little prayer out into the night. “There can’t be any more in store for us. But there was.

At noon the next day, Mike, rid|ig his new bicycle, wae run down by a truck. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX THE morning at the store had been a happy one for Ellen. The pleasantness of the evening before lingered through the opening hours of the day. Noon came. Ellen and Lorene yawned, looked at each other interrogatively and began tidying up for lunch. Lorene tentatively suggested a newly discovered tearoom with a hangup 75-cent luncheon. They set off and talked shop through the lazy, unhurried hour. Ellen found it pleasant to lunch in such a comfortable fashion. Afterward, when .they were strolling back to the store, Lorene said suddenly: “I’ve decided to let you try Blumstein’s yourself this afternoon. I hear they have some cute sports dresses at $9.10 —anew line. Carney & Cos. has a whole window display from there.” “Oh!” said Ellen, flushed and thrilled, “Get three or four. Green is a good bet, I think. And nothing too fancy. Use your own judgment. Afterward, if you want to, you can go on home and not bother coming back till tomorrow. Your loot won’t be delivered till morning anyhow.” “You don’t know how proud—” Ellen began inarticulately, “Forget it! If you make any bloomers I’ll come down hard enough! Not that I think you will.” It was 4 o’clock when Ellen finished with the manufacturers and walked up Pine street toward home. She reviewed the purchases she had made and found them good. Underneath lay the pleased conscientiousness that she was through with Barclay’s for the day. Myra should be home from the library. Tea and muffins in the kitchen, perhaps. Ellen’s steps hastened. She entered the dusky hallway and had started up the stairs when Myra, wearing an old faded apron and bedroom slippers, her head wrapped in a towel, came flying down. Ellen saw disaster in her sister’s eyes. "Ellen! Mike’s been hurt. An accident—!” “Mike!” Ellen leaned against the banister. Her heart seemed to stop. Her brain —everything—seemed to stop for a terrible, timeless moment. “He’s unconscious. They carried him in our bedroom.” Myra was gone. Ellen ran up the stairs and into the shabby familiar living room filled with silent people, women in dust caps and aprons, a few coatless perspiring men. Mike's bicycle was propped against the wall. They were all looking at it. "It’s the other sister,” Ellen heard someone say. 'Poor thing! Let her through.” * STIRRING, moving uneasily, they made a path for her, all the curious, kindly neighbors, but Ellen did not notice. She ran past them to the bedroom. Mike lay unconscious on the bed, Mrs. Clancy, concerned and anxious, was leaning over him. Molly sat still and white in a chair drawn close. She did not move as Ellen entered. “Oh, Ellen, it’s you! I thought Myra—” Mrs. Clancy turned and spoke quietly. Ellen’s breath came in great gasps. She could not speak. "Sit down.” The Irishwoman left the bed and took her hands in an effort to force her to a chair. Ellen leaned against her, spent, exhausted, her eyes on the little motionless figure on the high, white bed. "What happened?’ "It was the bicycle,” said Mrs. Clancy patiently. “At Pine and Chestnut. He was wheeling it across when a truck, a big truck—he pushed the bicycle clear, but —” "The doctor?” “We’ve called him. Myra’s gone to see.” Myra came in just then. “Dr.' Ellis is on his way,” she said.

STKKEftS

A BIG •••• IS OFTEN GOOD FOR A••• • •••. Three words, all composed of the same four letters, are missing from the above sentence. Can you fill the words in, in place of the black dots?

Yesterday’s Answer

AAAACDGMQS MADAGASCAR When the letters in die upper fine are properly rearranged, they will spell out the country shown in the lower line.

TARZAN THE TERRIBLE

The bellowing gryf came to a baffled stop at the foot of the tree Though it reared itself up to seize its prey, as Tarzan guessed it would, it found the ape-man well out of reach. High above, Tarzan came to a stop, and there, just above him, he saw Pan-at-lee sitting, wide-eyed and trembling. “Howe came you here?’ he asked. She told him. “You came to warn me?” exclaimed the ape-man. “It was very brave and unselfish of you; I shall not forget it.”

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

‘Til go clear out the living room,” Mrs. Clancy offered and left. “Oh, Myra, Myra!” Ellen whispered. “He’s—he’s breathing, Ellen. We have to hope and pray." Their fingers closed together tightly: their terrified eyes met and failed of reassurance. Molly sat motionless, tearless, speechless. Myra tried to make her leave, but she would not. Ellen knelt beside the bed, not daring to touch Mike except to take one of his stubby nailed hands, still grimy from play. She hardly knew what went on

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 AND HER BUDDIES

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about her. She was not aware that Myra had at last succeeded in getting Molly into her own bedroom. She was aware only of Mike and his death-like pallor and his death-like stillness. Dr. Ellis came. Another doctor came. Ellen hardly understood that they had forced her from the room so they could make the examination. After a long while —it was dark outside now—the doctors reluctantly announced they still could not say how gravely the boy was Injured. Internal injuries undoubtedly—the persistent coma due to that—

Below them still bellowed the angry triceratops; its appearance as terrifying as its voice, with its slate-blue body, yellow face, blue bands encircling its eyes, great bony hoed of red, and its yellow belly. Red and yellow bonj’ spikes protruded in three parallel lines down its back It had strong talons in place of hoofs, two horns above its eyes, and one on its ncee. No wonder Pan-s.t-lee shuddered, as its little flicked eyes looked up at her, and the homy beak opened to disclose a set of powerful teeth.

one leg broken, perhaps his spine affected. The child should be in a hospital. TTiey wanted another opinion before moving him. "How soon will we know the best —or the worst?” It was the ghost of Molly's voice. “We-il,” Dr. Ellis hesitated, “if he holds out through the night we should be able to move him by morning. An immediate operation vould be too dangerous.” # ELLEN returned to her vigil beside Mike. Myra moved in and out, but mo6t of the time she stayed

—By Ahern

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Weird and terrible as it looked, Tarzan could not help but admire the mighty creature looming beolw him. Its seventy-five feet of length typified the things he always admired, courage and strength. “Let’s go,” he said at last to the girl. “Go?” replied the girl gloomily. “Where? We will never go from here. You do not know the gryfs. Wherever we go, it will follow.” “Nonsense,” said Tarzan. “We can live in the trees a long tinLfe if necessary, and some time the thing will leave.”

in the next room with Molly, who lay sleepless, staring, tearless. Sometimes Mike’s breathing grew heavy and the strange, stertorous sound filled the watcher with panic. Yet never would Ellen allow her hopes to flag Toward morning Mike stirred for the first time and murmured something incoherent about a bicycle. Ellen looked quickly toward Dr. Ellis at the other side of the bed. “That’s good,” he said. Presently the doctor gave a deep sigh. “You can tell your mother and Myra we’ll be moving the young

OUT OUR WAY

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—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

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“Never!” said Pan-at-lee. “The gryfs and Tor-o-dons are friends; they share the same food. Between them we shall surely be killed.” “Come—we will make a try at it,” said Tarzan cheerfully. He moved off through the tree tops with Pan-at-lee close behind. Below them moved the homed dinosaur. When they reached the forest edge where lay open ground they must cross to reach the caves, the creature was there with them, waiting beneath the tree. Tarzan looked ruefully down, and thoughtfally scratched his head.

PAGE 5

man to the hospital in an hour or so.” He bent and fumbled for Mike’s pulse, looked across at Ellen and smiled wearily. The ambulance came for Mike. There was a crowd on the street when they carried him out into the morning sunshine. Molly rode in the ambuance. Ellen pnd Myra followed in a cab and told each other with courageous lips and frightened eyes that everything would be all right. Dr. Ellis had said . . . (To Be Continued)

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin