Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 264, Indianapolis, Marion County, 14 March 1932 — Page 13

MARCH 14,1932

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BEGIN HERE TODAY ELLEN ROSBITER. beautiful 20-vrar-elfl. tails In love with LARRY HARROWGATE. votme artiet. whom ahe meets at prearnland where she works as a dance hall hostess. _ I.arrv is encased to ELIZABETH “OWES, a debutante, but he shows Ellen attentions until his fiance returns from Europe. . From a sense of gratitude Ellen agrees to marrv STEVEN BARCLAY, kind and wealthy man of 57 who has paid hospital expenses for her brother. MIKE injured 1n a street accident. He finds a job for BERT ARMSTEAD, engaged to Ellen's Sister. Mvra. Barclay has been married and divorced. Bcandal accompanied his divorce from I,EDA GRAYSON, dancer, and. fearing talk of the divorce mav be revived, he and Ellen agree to keep their marriage aecret. Mvra and Bert are to be married the Same dav as Ellen and Barclay. Two davs before her wedding Ellen goes to the offices Os BYMES As PRENDERGAST, Barclav’s attorneys, where her fiance Is to sign capers settling a fortune on her. She knows Bvmes believes her to be a gold-digger and insists that the settlement. papers wait until after marriage. NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE 'Continued) She waiting outside, confused and feeling the beginning of a great fear. ana BERT and Myra had stood in the middle of the small room, lips upon lips, bodies pressed together, clasped close in each other’s arms. They had ben oblivious of her presence, oblivious of everything except the burning flame that enveloped them. Was that what Myra had tried to tell her about so long ago when she had said only love mattered? That embrace had nothing in common with the kisses Ellen had seen her sister and Bert exchange before. Was that what Steven wanted? Was that what she had promised to give him? She never, never could kiss Steven that way. She waited a long while before rapping on the door. When she entered, Myra was sewing a towel and Bert had returned to his ‘painting. Ellen glanced a little foolishly from one to the other. Bert casually thanked her' for the tacks, took them and went into the kitchenet. They heard him pounding with the hammer. Ellen picked up the chintz curtain she had been lining, hunted for her npedle and set to work again. Unconsciously she avoided her sisters eyes. “You came in on us, didn’t you?” asked Myra after a pause. “Yes,” admitted Ellen uncomfortably. “I didn’t think you knew.” Myra did not appear to be particularly disturbed. A little smile played on her lips and touched her eyes. She was a trifle embarrassed, but proud and thrilled, too, as she stumblingly tried to explain to Ellen that Bert’s love was just as strong and as sure as it had ever been, “It’s all come back,” Myra said. "And Ellen, I’m so happy I hardly can breathe. Just think, tomorrow night I’ll be Mrs. Bernard B. Armstead!” “Yes, that’s right,” said Ellen soberly, drawing her needle through the chintz. She pricked her finger and in the flurry that followed the conversation was abandoned. Presently Ellen felt her fear subside. She had been filling her head with a lot of nonsense. People loved each other in all kinds of ways. Steven, with his infinite kindness, never would demand anything she

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! could not give. Myra and Bert—well, they were Myra and Bert. nan LATER, after that strange embarrassment had worn away, ! Ellen talked with Bert. He was nailing bright red oilcloth on the ' kitchenet shelves when she went ! to wash her hands. He seemed entirely absorbed in ! his task, but Ellen .sensed that he wanted to speak to her, so she dried her hands and waited. "I haven’t had a chance to tell you,” he said presently, “what a bocst you’ve given Myra and me—particularly me. I’m going to make good at Barclay’s. “Steven has been—well, he’s been swell! He’s given me a chance, but he’s made it clear that I’ll have to make good on my own. And I’m going to!” “I know you will, Bert!” “I’m sorry I made such a fuss about the clothes,” he persisted uncomfortably. “Myra looks like a j queen in them. But I—l hope you understand what I mean. A man wants to do things for his wife him--1 self. You do understand, don’t I you?”

“Perfectly!” Ellen retorted. “I won’t dip in again.” Nor would she. She understood now why the draperies Myra had found at such a bargain meant far more to her than the wardrobe selected with no thought of expense. Her mother was more difficult. To her and to Mike Steven represented a kind of perpetual Santa Claus. Already Mike was outrageously spoiled. His hospital room overflowed with Steven's gifts and though Mike hardly looked at them he still demanded anew present of every visitor. Ellen hoped when she and Steven sailed things would be different. She had tried to talk seriously to her mother, to arrange somehow that she should budget her expenditures. Despite Ellen’s pleas, Steven had opened a generous account for his prospective mother-in-law and Molly appeared to be trying to clear it out as quickly as possible. Already Molly had managed to fill the apartment with strange purchases that apparently had been made only because she had the money to make them. After a few feeble efforts, Ellen gave up trying to pound sense into the pretty little head of the mother who ever since her sixteenth birthday had been demonstrating her ignorance of life and her unfitness to cope with it. a a a ELLEN yielded on every point except one. She drew the line there sharply. The argument occurred when Molly suggested that she should send a note announcing her marriage to her Aunt Myra. “Why should I?” Ellen asked shortly. “She wouldn’t be interested.” “Why, Ellen Rossiter! Your own aunt!” “My own aunt may have sent us boxes,” Ellen interrupted impatiently, “but she hasn’t written a line in all those years.” “Aren't you going to look her up when you’re in London?” “Certainly not!”

"But things are different now," said Molly. “I believe you want me to look her up to high-hat her,” Ellen laughed. "Confess! Isn’t that it?” Molly hastily denied the allegation, but her cheeks were pink and she was suspiciously gracious when Ellen flatly refused to call on her aunt in London. Then quickly, oh, so quickly, the last night of Ellen’s girlhood arrived. It was very late when she and Myra got into bed. Heroically they agreed not to talk, but they might as well have for all the sleep Ellen got. She lay in the warm darkness, thinking, thinking. She was safe tonight, alone, inviolate. But tomorrow night? Steven wasn’t the man she wanted to marry. She would have to tell him in the morning. Oh, she couldn’t, she couldn’t! If she told him, he would go away very quietly. He was proud, but she would break his heart even though he hid the deathly hurt. She would break the heart of a man who had given her everything. It was too late now. She could not cause that look to come into his eyes, that look of utter humiliation. She could not tell Steven that all along she had been mis-

taken. If he were a younger man perhaps—but Steven was not young. She could not humiliate him in a way a thousand times worse than she herself had been humiliated. She knew what that suffering was. He must be saved from that. Perhaps she was only nervous. People talked so. It was the darkness that frightened her, the brooding, quiet darkness. If she could see Steven again, she would not be frightened. She would know he was kind and gentle. Toward morning she fell into an uneasy sleep. CHAPTER IrHIRTY-FOUR AT dawn Ellen wakened when her mother entered the room. Molly tiptoed to her daughter’s bed. tucked in the covers and smoothed Ellen’s fair hair away from her forehead. “It’s going to be a lovely day,” Molly whispered. She was trying hard to be casual, but Ellen saw that Molly was frightened. Seeing that, Ellen became determined not to share her own fear. “Myra’s asleep,” the mother whispered again. “I wanted to talk to you, darling—to tell you ” “There’s nothing to tell,” said Ellen nervously, almost sharply. She drew the light spread closer. “But, honey,” Molly went on wistfully, as if she were sorry for something. “Do you really want to marry Steven? Do you understand ” She never had seemed more helpless. “Yes, I want to,” Ellen insisted. The girl’s voice had risen slightly, so that Myra stirred and awoke. Bright sunshine came pouring through the window. “Happy the bride the sun shines on,” Myra cried out and sprang from bed. The day was bright blue and perfect, a day cut from a picture postcard. Once Ellen was out of bed and had breakfasted, the terrors of the night and those strange fears of the dawn were gone. She was not afraid now. She seemed to feel nothing but the strangeness of the fact that this was her wedding day and that she would be excited and nervous, but was not. She and Myra dressed while Molly, happy and reassured, flew about getting in their way and in her own, too. Mrs. Clancy came flying up from downstairs with a

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TARZAN THE TERRIBLE

As Tarzan ventured into the City of Light, the first one to detect his difference from the natives was a child playing beneath a gateway. “No tail! No tail!” it shouted, throwing a stone at the ape-man. Then seeing this creature was something very different from a Ho-don warrior who had lost his tail, the boy fled screaming. Tarzan continued on his way fully realizing that any moment the fate of his plan would be decided. At the next turn of the winding street he came face to face with a Ho-don warrior.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

telephone message for Myra, who grabbed a negligee and streaked down after her. When Myra had returned and had begun to do her hair all over again, Mrs. Clancy was back with a message from Steven. He would be there at 10 o’clock. a a a THROUGH it all Ellen dressed calmly. A wispy chemise, a brassiere sewn with rosebuds, tiny white slippers. She had never noticed before how small her feet were. She eyed her legs critically, standing on tiptoe away from the mirror

OUR BOARDING HOUSE

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FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS

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WASHINGTON TUBBS II

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SALLSMAiM SAM

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BOOTS AND HER BUDDIES

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He saw,the surprise and suspicion in the fellow’s eyes. “I am a stranger from a far land,” said Tarzan: “I would speak with Kotan, your king.” The tailed warrior stepped back, laying his hand upon his knife, and replied: “No strangers come to A-lur’s gates, other than enemies or slaves.” “I am neither,” said Tarzan, “I come directly from Jad-ben-Otho, your god. Look!” and he held out his hands, pointed to his toes, and wheeled about so the Ho-don could see he was tailless, and otherwise different from him.

which tilted at the wrong angle. They were nice legs, a little too long perhaps, but then She sprayed verbena on her shoulders and sniffed the spicy smell. Her slip next, airy as a shadow. Long chiffon stockings and her garters—blue, because Molly had insisted all brides wore “something blue.” The “something borrowed” was a fine, lacy handkerchief which Molly had carried when she was a bride. In Myra’s case it was a string of pearls that were Molly’s, also. For the “something old” both girls wore little jeweled pins made from

cuff links which had once adorned a blue-eyed, tawny-haired Charles Rossiter, page at the court of Queen Elizabeth. The “something new” was the dress, shimmering with opaque lights and recalling in its demure fullness and length a debutante of the 50’s. “Something old—somthing new Something borrowed—something blue.” Ellen stood away from the mirror and looked at the shinlng-eyed girl m the lovely dress. That beautiful, tawny-haired girl was Ellen Rossiter. This was her wedding day.

—By Ahern

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Upon these details Tarzan had based his plan, for he recalled the quarrel between Taden and Om-at in which the former, a Ho-don, had claimed his people’s god had no tail. An expression of awe came into the warrior’s face, but still he was suspicious. “True it is you are neither Ho-don nor Waz-don; and it is also true that Jad-ben-Otho has no tail. Come! This is not a matter for a soldier to decide.” Clutching his knife and casting wary side-long glances at Tarzan, the Ho-don led the way through A-lur.

Ellen wondered uncertainly If she should cry or laugh and knew that she did not want to do either. She thought she was composed and steady. , She thought that now she was ready to meet anything, but she did not seem to be herself. Nothing seemed real to her. Deliberately she made a test that, in this strange mood* she did not fear. Deliberately she thought of Larry. But Larry was, in this disordered bedroom with Myra and Molly running back and forth and chattering endlessly, only a halfremembered pain.

OUT OUR WAY

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'•Os NO -so STARTLED IS ( J* N THE AIgANTIMS, RIP THROSTS WOLFGANG (H FROKt' taeiHAT HIS FIf.ST SHOT , OF HIM AS A SHIELD. HE GRABS A PISTOL AND <soes wild. THE. BATTLE ' m - ■■■■— '■ 7 DINNER. is on. / ONE SHOT, TWA'S ALL \ - / , needs,'cause ’m rip ) iSfa'S < 932 BY we. SCRtftCC, lIW >W U 8. MT. OfT.

He seemed to be a bright and shining creation of her imagination. She had dreamed him. Larry was not real. a a m TyiTOLLY and Myra, wondering as they had wondered ao often if it would not be better after all to wear street clothes in the car and chance finding a place to change in the small Connecticut town where the double wedding was to take place, did not seem real either. (To Be Continued)

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

As they went along, a great crowd of people followed them, all showing much curiosity concerning the stranger. They made no move •-o molest him when it was learned he was going to their king. At last, outside the palace gate3, a dozen warriors rose up to bar their progress. His guide's story told, Tarzan was admitted to the courtyard where a runner was sent to notify the king. After a while a huge major-domo, attend by soldiers, appeared, and he, too, examined Tarzan with every sign of curiosity.

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blosser

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin