Indianapolis Times, Volume 43, Number 270, Indianapolis, Marion County, 21 March 1932 — Page 13

STARCH 3!, 1f132.

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bf.gin hi:rf. today KLLEN BOSBITER. beautiful 20-vear-oM. falls in love with LARRY HARROWOATE. yotinif artist whom she meet* at Dreamland, a dance hall where she works as hostess. Lurry is engaged to BLIZABETH BOWES, debutante, but pays attentions to Ellen until i~s fiancee returns from Europe, Believing Larry Is‘lost to her. Elien agrees to marry STEVEN BARCLAY. 57 years old and wealthy, who has paid hospital expenses for her brother, MIKE, injured in a street accident. Ellen knows such a marriage will provide for her mother, MOLLY ROSsrTER, and make it possible for her sister MYRA, to marry BERT ARMSTEAD. Barclay has been married and divorced. Scandal accompanied his divorce from LEDA GRAYSON, dancer, and, fearing this talk may be revised, he and Ellen agree to keep their marriage secret until they sail for Europe. Barclay wants to settle a fortune on Ellen, but she persuades him to wait until after tha ceremony. Barclay's lawyer, SYMES, regards Ellen as a golddigger. In a double wedding in a small Connecticut town. Barclay and Ellen and Myra and Armstead are married. Barclay and his bride drive to his Long Island home. She reads in a newspaper that Larry s engagement to Elizabeth Bowes is broken. That, night when Barclay comes to Ellen's bedroom he Buffers a fatal heart attack. Ellen calls for help. Doctors, ntirres and Symes. the lawyer, arrive Svmes, who has been trylnr/ to reach Barclav all day. tells Ellen her marriage is not irgai. because papers proving Barciav's divorce have been stolen She agrees to forfeit all claim to the fortune to avoid scandal Only FERGUS, the butler, knows of her presence In the house that night. Then Ellen learns Larry Harrowgate is Barrlav's nephew. now go on wrm the story CHAPTER FORTY f Continued) The doctors had been surprised at her presence, had regarded her, she felt, with contempt. She did not want that, cither. When Fergus came in to pack the newly-initialed bags that she never would use, Ellen wanted to cry out that she would leave her clothes here. She wished never to see the pretty frock again. She wanted to explain to the silent, impersonal servant why she was here—what had happened. But that she could not do. She wss sworn to silence and to deceit, Lymes had warned her to say nothing. How Ellen hated it all! Fergus glanced at her from time to time as he packed her clothes. It did not matter what he was thinking, Ellen told herself. Resolutely she pulled on a little felt hat and tucked in the strands of brilliant hair. n n IT did matter, of course. She remembered again and with a sinking heart that she had given Mrs. Clancy's telephone number to Fergus. How she wished that she hadn’t. But all this was foolish! How could such a tiny circumstance be important? What was Fergus thinking. “Mr. Symes is waiting for you in the hall, miss,” he said, as he strapped the last heavy bag. Again that strange, oblique glance. It had been “madame” the night before, Ellen’s cheeks burned. “I want to see Steven—Mr. Barclay before I go,” she said, her throat dry. “I’m afraid, miss, that’s impossible,” the butler told her smoothly. “He’s been taken to the hospital. It was thought best.” Ellen followed him down the stairs into the dark, cool hall. Symes took her arm and Fergus carried the bags to the car. The butler watched as the limousine rushed down the winding driveway.

HORIZONTAL SATURDAY’S ANSWER 12 Native metal. 1 i’inr a 7 iUing t 0 FoIUIPI laWm! |t|'llL[T| 13 To assume ’ AURA TINDT A TDEA U South America. 9 Swarming. HP M _ STAND j_ L%EE JO Mesh of lace. 10 supports. 15 Greatest corn _JSC I GIE. SITL 22 Tenet, producing state QU R I RCjcfp 25 Ship’s nautical in the U. S. A. SfE EjBTjORjCINT' OffiO'NiE record. 16 Skin. [TRjE U oJmaRiER 27 Work of 17 Sawlike part. |S|pj A r RjSTMTWAiGIE IDT Kenius. IS Departs. “]S tfl iR S®t JR iM r" 1 28 Ranted. 19 Hastened. T |C|OT LjS>f~' AlClßlEl 30 Circlct--21 To observe. PALE IAIDOREI TOUR 32 Street lamp. 22 Cavity. AICIE R HEWEP EflWirlß 33 Part of a win--24 To hark — L ’- J 1 1 1 L - u — dow. shrilly. 25 To cast 26 Tight. armadillo. VERTICAL through. 29 Exclamation 44 Impelled. 1 Very high 37 Seals. of surprise. 45 Author of tne mountain. 39 Before. 31 Workers. Declaration of 2 Falsehood. 41 Away. 33 Father. Independence. 3To affirm. 43 Far away. 34 Secured. 48 Sleeveless 4 Successive 44 Customs. 36 Civil War garment. relief supply. 46 Lawyer’s general who 51 Eagle's nest. 5 Any of the ten charge, became a U. S. 52 Always. figures. 47 To free, president. 56 Auditory. 6 Plant, below 48 The heart 37 To sink. 57 Splits. ground. 49 Devoured. 38 Greater. 58 Rubber wheel 7 Reverence. 50 Teg. 40 To conclude. pad. 8 Aeriform fuel. 53 By way of. 41 Tenuous. 59 Lease money. 10 Postscript. 54 Eagle. 42 Throe-banded 60 Courage. 11 To breathe. 55 Scarlet.

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] “I—l wanted to see Steven again.” Ellen said painfully as they turned through the iron gates and out on the road leading to Manhattan, “The arrangements were made i hurriedly,” Symes told her. “I wanted to spare you the details if I could. And you can see how much .simpler it will make things to give out the report that he died in a J hospital.” ; “I suppose so,” Ellen said, swalj lowing the lump in her throat. “Only now that everything's arranged—l’m afraid.” “Nothing to be afraid of,” he asi sured her. “You’ll be home soon now.” "It’s Fergus I’m afraid of,” Ellen said in a small voice. “A servant?” he demanded, amazed. “He can’t harm you.” Ellen was not to be reassured. The deadly weight in her heart persisted. She could not shake off her feeling | of desolation and her rising roubts. a a a SHE stared blindly at fields burned and dry, stared at the cars I they passed. She never had felt I such wretchedness, such loneliI ness of spirit. To be running away like a thief—“l’m glad for you,” Symes voice penetrated her misery. “Glad you j decided as you did. It’s the best way out of the regrettable affair.” Ellen twisted a fold of her frock. “I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong,” she said. “It seems wrong to desert Steven, to hide something he thought was right.” “I’ve had more years to consider right and wrong that you’ve had,” Symes told her in a matter of fact way. “And it seems to me the right thing is the kind thing. “You’re being kind. You’re saving Steven’s honor when he can’t save it himself. “But you don’t understand,” Ellen j persisted in a low voice. “I'm not l being unselfish j really of Steven. I'm thinking of myself and my own reputation. “That's why I wanted to run away, the real reason. That’s why it’s wrong. It’s not too late to go back! I’ll make everyone believe it was I, not Steven, who was to blame—” “We’ll do nothing of the kind,” the lawyer interrupted flatly. “You've said you don’t want the money, which would be the only reason for such a move. It’s right for you to think of your reputation. “Reputation is a very precious i thing to every young girl. Steven wouldn't want you tc toss it away to become a martyr. That’s ridiculous. His flat, almost angry words braced Ellen as no sympathy could have done. He saw her trembling i lips become steady. “But I didn't love Steven as—as he loved me,” the girl fumbled. “To go on feeling this hanging over me —feeling that I have taken the easiest way out—feeling—” “What do you think Steven would want you to do?” Symes asked, j turning to meet her eyes. “Steven would want me to be happy. But how can I bear—” j “Have you thought,” he demanded ; abruptly, “that this might be your i part of the bargain? To do as he would want you to even though it

is hard? Even though you feel guilty and ashamed and* unworthy?” “Do you really think that?" she asked. There was dawning hope in her expression. “It will be hard enough,” he told i her harshly. “It’s always easier to ; collapse into being a martyr. But to fight the thing out alone—it’ll be hard enough. a m b THEY drove in silence through the dreaming country side I where busy housewives were ordering the day’s groceries, children played and quarreled on front lawns, and dogs ran out to bark at passing vehicles. They passed factories and warehouses. Ellen saw the bent heads of workers at great windows. The j air became sultry and oppressive. They reached the outskirts of Manhattan, looking grimy and bedraggled in the noon sunshine. Each fresh landmark, bringing her nearer home, was grateful to Ellen’s : eyes. Pine street at last, shabby and I filled with children skylarking durI ing the lunch hour. Symes left Ellen 1 at the door of the apartment. She was so eager to be away that I she scarcely heard him say he would call in a few days and that she was not to be afraid. She was almost sick with emotion and frantic relief at being home. j They were all cut in the hall the moment they heard her knock Myra and Bert and Molly, laughing and crying and trying to kiss her all at once. No questions Symes had prepared them. Talking, half-crying, they drew her into the living room and forced her to the couch. Ellen’s I arms were about her mother’s neck. Her cheek was pressed against her ; mother’s cheek and her tears were ; wet against her mother’s face. “It’s all my fault,” Molly was sod- 1 ’oing. “That my little girl should have suffered so when I’m to j blame—” “No one’s to blame.” “Ellen’s right,” put in Myra. “Nc one is to blame!” “I’m glad,’ said Molly with spirit, ! her face still damp with tears, “that you made them understand you didn't want the money. We Rossi- i ! ters can get along.” “Sure we can,” commented Bert, ! ; half - embarrassed, half - p.oud. j : “There’s a man in the family now." j Ellen had not known until then ! what secret fears had harassed her. ! Far from being disappointed, Molly , seemed not concerned at all with i the loss of the Barclay millions. The mother and older sister exchanged glances. “Let’s tell her now,” said Molly “Tell what?” “A surprise.” Molly went on in- ' coherently. “They thought it would ; ; be all right and it was less expen- j sive.” i Ellen was up from the couch in ! a flash and running toward the bed- ■ | room. Propped high among the fat, I i white pillows of her own bed lav ■ i Mike. y | He turned his slushy, rosy face to ■ j her, and she was beside him, show- j I ering his face with those kisses he I so detested. This time Ellen's tears were j tears of joy. CHAPTER FORTY-ONE A WEEK later Ellen called on Symes. He had telephoned to 1 say he had received the license. The week following Steven’s death ' had been a cruel test of the girl’s i courage. Myra, Molly and Bert all had helped. Even Mike, with his coni stant, fretful appeals for amusej men, had helped. Life and the every-day demands of living had caught her up and whirled her onward. She was a trifle pale that crisp fall day, but her blue eyes were | | clear and steady and her sweet j mouth could smile. Symes looked at the girl and saw that she was changed. There were courage and bravery in her face now. courage and bravery that were definitely, unmistakably adult.

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TARZAN THE TERRIBLE

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With the coming of dawn, Tarzan was awake and wandering about the palace grounds, meeting none but slaves. He stumbled upon a wall-enclosed, gateless garden that aroused his curiosity, and uncoiling his grass rope, the ape-man threw it over a tree branch projecting beyond the wall. With the ease of a young monkey, he then scrambled to the summit. From here he looked down into a lovely garden. Without waiting to know whether it contained humans or wild beasts, Tarzan dropped lightly to the sward inside.

THE INDIANAPOLIS TIMES

"You’re looking well,” he said inadequately, and stopped and said no more for a space. “It’s been a hard pull, I know,”. he continued abruptly, “but every- j thing’s gone well. You’ve seen the papers, of course?” “I have,” she said. Much had been printed about Steven's death and about Steven’s will. A sharp legal battle was anticipated between his sister, Mrs. Elliot Barclay Harrowgate. and Leda Grayson Barclay, whose divorce had so recently been set aside. No news of Ellen had appeared—

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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no suggestion that another woman had been with Steven when he died. Headlines chronicled the death at St. Agatha’s hospital. Headlines announced that Leda Grayson Barclay. the widow, had arrived too late, speeding by plane from Mexico. “I wanted to go to the funeral,” Ellen announced forlornly as ; Symes pulled up a chair for her. “That would have been the ; sheerest folly,” he pointed out. ! quite his legal, business-like self

He began a systematic investigation of the enclosure, hoping to come upon the object of his long and difficult search. Everywhere w>ere charming vistas of artificial streams, and little pools flanked by flowering bushes. It was very evident the place was not for general use. Filled with admiration, and, as always, moving silently, he suddenly beheld the first Ho-don female he had seen since entering the palace. Young and beautiful, she stood in a little open Slace, stroking the head of a brilliant bird she eld.

again. “You’ve been so sensible about everything else I'm surprised to hear you say that.” Ellen forced a valiant, apologetic smile. He looked away with the consideration she had found so unexpected, then looked back again. She was composed now. Her hands were steady and her eyes were dry. “Im sensible about that, too—now.” she said quietly. “I’ve wanted to tell you and here’s my chance,” Symes began in i awkward haste. “If there's any-

—By Ahern

As Tarzan left the scene of the banquet orgy, the slave who had shown surprise at seeing him, whispered to one of his companions. “There is but one to tell this to,” said the other, “That is the high priest. But before you make it known, exact from him the promise of our freedom.” Later, the slave came to the temple gate asking to see the high priest on a matter of great importance. He was admitted, though the hour was late, and when Lu-don had heard his story he promised him many gifts besides his freedom if he could prove his claim %>rrect.

thing you need, I’ll be glad to be of assistance.” m a a 'T'HE square Rossiter chin lifted. “There’s nothing at all,” Ellen said quickly. “I’ve always made my Swn way and I still can. I’ve been a parasite long enough. Monday I’m going back to work.” “Not on Monday?” “Yes—Monday!” She checked herself to add: “Don’t be alarmed. I wouldn't dreahi of returning to the store. Lorene came to see me and said

OUT OUR WAY

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she'd try to get my place back for me, but I couldn’t do that. “There’d be too much gossip and speculation—and, besides, my broth - j er-in-law works there. I wouldn't want to chance anything coming up that might hurt him.” “Nothing will come up,” Symes replied a little uneasily. He rose, walked silently to the end of the room and back. He bent over his j desk before he spoke again. “Well, here it is.” (To Be Continued)

—By Edgar Rice Burroughs

As the slave talked with the high priest in A-lur, the figure of a man groped its way around the shoulder of the Father of Mountains. The moonlight glistened from the shiny barrel of an Enfield strapped to his naked back and brass cartridges shed reflected light from his polished cases where they hung in tha bandoliers across the broad, brown shoulders and the* lean waist.

PAGE 13

—By Williams

—By Blossei*

—By Crane

—By Small

—By Martin